Of course, mine is one of the first to get the treatment and that's another reason to be UBER excited. It's AWESOME!
Haha! So you see, it's EASY!
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I'm SO excited right now! First, Gingernut Books is moving forward with a new service to Authors and Writers - well anyone actually. They're offering a Book Trailer service that has credentials as long as your arm! An Award Winning Film Director has offered to build personal mini-movies for books so Authors and Writers can get their book promoted in a visually dynamic and exciting video. Of course, mine is one of the first to get the treatment and that's another reason to be UBER excited. It's AWESOME! The next thing I'm excited about is that I've put the embed code in this blog ALL BY MYSELF!
Haha! So you see, it's EASY!
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Cruel and Unusual is the second in my Wolf series. I'm very proud of that book, it took a lot of hard work in the writing and researching. I get great reviews for it and people are shocked and surprised by how the book makes them feel - in a GOOD way. Imagine my surprise then, when I found Amazon were discounting the book. I was quite pleased because when Amazon discount a book, the author still gets the FULL royalties on the original price. What I didn't realise was that Amazon also plays a dirty, nasty and underhand trick with the ebook pricing when it discounts books. The ebook was at £2.99 - $4.75 When the price for the paperback book was dropped from £7.99 $11.68 to £1.08 they then dropped the price of the ebook to £1.03 claiming the ebook must be 20% lower than the print price of any book - that doesn't work out to 20% but hey, what do I know? My publisher, Gingernut Books emailed Amazon to ask why they had dropped the price of the ebook if it was THEIR decision to drop the price of the paperback. This is the email conversation: Subject: My ebook is listed on US and UK sites at a low price. My book price should be $4.75 and £2.99 but is listed at $1.73 and £1.03. Why is this and what do we get paid if they sell at this price. If it's a promotion on your part then thanks. We do not sell this book anywhere at a lower price. Thanks The reply: Thanks for contacting us and giving me the opportunity to help you. I will be more than glad to assist you with your inquiry! Any update to a list price is subject to the KDP pricing terms and conditions. For example, if you set a list price higher than the list price in another sales channel, we may price-match your book. In addition, if the digital list price is not at least 20% below the list price of the corresponding physical edition, we may lower the sale price. Please see our pricing page for more details: https://kdp.amazon.com/help?topicId=A29FL26OKE7R7B Royalties paid under the 70 percent option are calculated off of your list price, unless we sell your book at a price below the list price to match a third party's price for a digital or physical edition of the book, or Amazon's price for a physical edition of the book. In that case, the Royalty will be equal to 70 percent of the amount equal to the price at which we sell the book, less the delivery costs. Your sales report will show the weighted average of the price at which we sold your book, so that you are able to determine the royalties due. Our reporting does not specify what other sales channels price matches occur with, or the individual sales prices of each unit sold. Please visit the link below for more details on the 70 percent royalty option: http://kdp.amazon.com/self-publishing/help?topicId=200634500 In case if you have more questions, do not hesitate to contact us back, we are here to help and we will gladly assist you! You can contact us back using the following link: https://kdp.amazon.com/self-publishing/contact-us I hope you have a very nice day! Thanks for using Amazon KDP. In effect, because they're price-matching the book, I don't get the full royalties, even though it's Amazon that has determined the price that they're matching. Hatchette is beginning to seem quite reasonable in all of this, aren't they? Four years ago today I was a busy bee. I was determined to get this thing done, get the show on the road! I'd had some very timely advice from my good friend Philip Gardiner and instead of signing with a self-publishing company, we (hubby and I) decided that we could do this ourselves!
I have to admit I knew it was going to be bloody hard work - I wasn't wrong either - but I also knew we'd have a lot of job satisfaction. We've met and worked with a lot of wonderful people and we've enjoyed every moment. We've learned a lot on how the publishing industry works and found those parts we don't like are easily changed to suit everyone. Today then, Gingernut Books Ltd is celebrating four years of publishing wonderful books and because we can't speak for everyone in the GNB stable, we've decided to discount the set of books we do have a say on where pricing is concerned. My Wolf series books are at the ridiculous price of a fiver for all three ebooks in the series. The offer is time-limited and will be fulfilled through Smashwords. Please share the links, everyone is welcome to take advantage of the offer. Happy Birthday GNB! Oh what a day! I got up and put on clean jeans (no, that's not newsworthy, keep reading!) and I'm down a size! YAY! Yeah, it made me happy. I then got on to Facebook and there was a message from someone I don't know, not on my friends list and has only one mutual friend. It was a flirty message but fun and complimentary, not like the creepy, stalkerish messages I sometimes get. Again, still smiling. The day was progressing nicely, a few bits of good news on friends' walls etc, you know the stuff. A few messages of best wishes from friends regarding my GoFundMe campaign - all cool and chilled. Then a bolt from the blue side-swiped me and hell, I feel bad. Something brought home to me the fact that I am in effect, begging for money and I'm begging from friends, people who hardly know me and from people that have never met me - not only that, I'm asking them to beg on my behalf too. No, the message didn't say that, not at all, but it led to my conclusion - remember I told you about how my brain works? Sometimes, I swear it's out to get me! I doubted myself, I doubted my motives for starting the campaign and I doubted the validity of it all. A few friends asked what was wrong and I've glossed over it for the most part. I supposed that if I said the conclusion I'd come to by myself had hurt me, had torn at my self-confidence and self belief, I'd be giving that conclusion more credit than it was worth; more value to it, allowed it to have power over me - a lot like allowing the bullies from school get under my skin with their words. I'm trying not to allow it that power, but bloody hell fire, it's damned difficult. Now, don't get me wrong, this is NOT an exercise in shooting the messenger, it's NOT the person that sent the message that made me feel bad, it's myself, my own demons - MY fault. A few more messages from other people have me back - if not on an even keel again, at least with a life jacket to hold on to while I get this damned boat from the bottom of the sea. Should I stop the campaign? I don't think so. I'm giving value for the donations, I'm not forcing anyone to give me money and it's certainly not money for nothing. I don't think stopping the campaign will make me feel better about having started it and the reason for starting it is still there. No, I'll not call a halt to it. Should I stop campaigning then? Stop asking people to help and support me? Would I ask people to stop asking me to support them? Would I ask that people quit posting on their wall when they feel they could use a little help, whether that's in the shape of money, physical help or a kind word? The answer is no, I couldn't stop helping my friends if they asked and so why would I think my friends would expect the same of me? Now, the person that messaged me telling me they don't agree with my GoFundMe campaign sent a further seven messages, none of which I read - none of which I will read because I can guess what they may say and I have no wish to read it. I'll get Trev to open them and if I'm wrong and they're nice messages of support, I'll not get him to delete them. I suppose the moral of this tale is this: If you know your brain won't like you doing something, if you know it will corrupt every motive you have for doing anything in this world and if you know it will make you feel bad for the smallest thing if it possibly can, then you should just give up now and never try anything because sooner or later, no matter how 'nice' a person you are for the most of it, you're going to feel terrible at some point - and the feeling is exponential to the length of time you've gone feeling OK in yourself - the longer you've gone without beating yourself up for something, the worse you'll feel when it finally gets through and hits home. Or... Fuck it, screw them, do what you like! Guess what I'm going to do now... :D I wonder how many people would like a story written about them, around them, around a character based on them? Here's my GoFundMe page that's offering exactly that. Not only will you get to work with me on creating 'you' inside a story, but the whole thing will be written around you, to your spec. Then the ebook will be dedicated to you and you'll be immortalised alongside Dusty the Demon Hunter - or Sentinel Exemplar if you prefer. Please also consider joining me on my Thunderclap - donate a Tweet, just one - or a Facebook post - please, I need 250 people to make it through. I know full well how exceptionally lucky I am to be able to write my stories. I also know that I'm so very fortunate to have such a strong and loyal group that support and encourage me. Whenever I look at my Facebook pages and see the well-wishes, the likes and shares on my posts, I smile. Yes, I'm aware that my aim and posting about it is going to get on people's nerves and for that I'm sorry - it's not going to be forever though, just a month or so. Let me tell you about what I hope for my career. My dream is to write from a little stone cottage out in the middle of nowhere where my dogs can run around the large garden without me being fearful for their safety, either because they escape or because the neighbour has taken a dislike to them. I'll sit on the sunny patio and drink my coffee while I tap away on the laptop. The characters that are fighting for a prominent place at the forefront of my mind at the moment will take their turn to voice their story (some hopes) and the stories will flow - endlessly cascading onto the screen of my computer to be turned into books that will delight and enthrall. OK, enough of the 'dream' let's get on to another unlikely scenario - not quite utopia but close enough. Someone sees my campaign and reads my books because of it. That person is ludicrously wealthy and has a few hundred grand to spare. They drop the few hundred grand off at my campaign and my worries are over, I pay off EVERYTHING and never need to worry - well, I'd worry about the electric, I need that to work so I can get the stories uploaded... I'd also like food too, but you get the picture. Trev would potter about the place, finishing the jobs he's never quite got around to, we'd take the dogs for walks so I get to at least sample the view of the countryside and life would be rosy. The stories would flow, the characters would introduce new creations to my mind - perfect. Next best thing? Well, that would be the campaign taking off, my books getting a bit more publicity and start selling enough to keep us in this house. Actually, that's not just 'the next best thing' - it's really all I want. I don't like asking people to help me with handouts, that's why I created the rewards - to give something for the donation. I don't like asking for help, I never have. I know my stories are good. I know the characters work. The trouble is getting people to take that chance on reading them in sufficient numbers to gain traction for my writing. For my writing to pay the bills and pay for food for the animals (and us too) would actually be up there with that first scenario - I wouldn't need the stone cottage and unlimited view of wide open countryside, I can make that happen inside my head. I wouldn't really like for someone to drop hundreds of thousands in cash in my lap, I'd always feel I owed far more than I could ever repay (I already owe far more than I can ever repay to everyone that has helped me so far). For my stories and my characters to go running off to the masses would be simply awesome for me. An honest day's work for an honest day's pay is enough, I would be satisfied, I'd be contented and I'd be so gracious and grateful my head would spin! So which of the scenarios is most likely? Well, the last one is always likely, but on some days (most) it seems just far enough out of reach as to be unattainable. Will I give up? Hell no! I'll only stop dreaming when I'm dead - perhaps. Terrible night's sleep again. Up at 3am, sporadic and disturbed sleep after. So, I'm tired, like yesterday; but is my mood as dark as yesterday? No. I can't see the light at the end of the year-long tunnel yet but there do seem to be some people along the path and they are holding bright beacons of light to help me through. Some of those people I've never met, yet they're helping me along, they're cheering me on and I'm so very grateful for them. Yesterday started out (for me) as black as any day I can remember in a long time. I can't explain why I was so down but I struggled through (if you saw the blog from yesterday, you can tell how dark it was inside my head). A few people helped me along and as I began to shake off the dark, a few more and yet more came along. The day ended on a huge grin and I think the storm clouds were dissipated. This morning, sitting in my attic office, watching the rain pattering on the window above me, I'm smiling - not like a loon, not yet, but it's getting there. The fundraising is coming on well (far better than I expected - which was zero) and I have a few more ideas to put into action. Whatever happens this year, whether I get an offer of publication or not, whether I raise all the money we need or not, I know I've turned a corner now. There may be more hazards ahead, more corners, there may be obstacles that I just can't get over, but I'll have to find a way around somehow. All I know is that friends and people I don't even know well are cheering me on with this, I'm being encouraged rather than criticised for holding out the begging bowl (I was dreading that) and people are travelling this rough and rocky path with me. Some are even apologising for not helping much. To those I say please don't worry, just share the links and review my books if you've read them, it ALL helps. Every time I see someone has shared a link, I smile and appreciate the gesture. It all helps! Thank you everyone. I really DO appreciate this, all of it xx Paypal accepted fundraising GoFundMe page Here we go then... day #2 of my mission. Don't worry, it won't go on forever I promise. Yesterday I told you about what I'm trying to do. There's a little bit about the whys and wherefores but I'm going to delve a little deeper into my freaky psyche and try to explain. I'm a weird creature, I'm the first to admit that. I'm loyal - fiercely so - with my friends and family and I hope for similar in return. Now, thinking about that, I know that my husband Trev has ALWAYS provided for me and our children. Yeah, there have been lean times ('red cross' parcels from his mum in the shape of food etc) and there have been times when we've had plenty (not so many of those, I might add). He's always worked hard, sometimes up to and beyond the point of exhaustion - setting up his business back in the 90s was the cause of not only most of those lean times, it was also where his stamina, tenacity and skill as a husband, father and artist came to the fore. There were times when the bailiffs were at the door, the electricity was in danger of being cut off and credit card companies were being held at bay by a massive game of '3 card screwed' where one is used to pay another in an ever-tightening circle. We couldn't cut the cards up, they were the only life-line we had. The business must have cost £100k to set up but it kept our heads above water for a few years until Trev went back to the pit (mine) and re-started his career as a miner. We took some bad advice, we got bogged down by debt and we even spent 10k on travelling to Australia to see if we would be able to emigrate out there. It all adds up and we're still clawing our way back. We got through it all, we survived. Not necessarily unscathed and certainly not debt-free and on easy-street, but we're still here, still happily married and still working together to get through every day. YES! Oh dear lord, yes, it IS fun most of the time but once in a while my brain goes on a mission of self-destruction and it wakes me at stupid o'clock in the morning and refuses to slow down so I can get back to sleep. Last night I woke before 2am and was still awake at 4:30 when Trev got up to go to work (and beyond that too). Why was I still awake? Well, my brain wanted to keep reminding me about when we used to play Squash (racquet ball?) back in the 80s. Don't be silly, of COURSE it was important... Maybe it's the disturbed night, maybe it's the weather, maybe it's because in less than a year's time Trev will be out of a job and I have the crazy notion that I'm not pulling my weight where the finances are concerned. Maybe it's a combination of those things but the truth of the matter is this: We have less than a year to get ourselves sorted out. This is where my brain kicks off again... Do we have enough time? Do I have enough talent? Enough stamina, fortitude, tenacity and utter dogged determination to get us through this? Did I do the right thing in setting up that crowdfunding campaign? I don't know. The only thing I do know is that I'm trying. I'm putting my all into making my mark on the world of literature and I'm selling everything I have with regards to my work in every way I know how. The only thing I can't count on is luck. Let's face it, without that one lucky break, that one weird twist of fate, a lot of success stories would still be struggling to get noticed, seen, recognised. Talent and determination is not enough - has it ever been enough? The trouble is, I don't know what is enough, but when I find it, I'm pretty sure I'll hang on tight to it because this time, Trev is already doing so much, I don't think he'll have time to haul our asses out of the fire. Thanks for reading this far. I'm working on getting out of this funk and back on track tomorrow. Wow... reading back, this is dark... sorry xx Ahh, I may as well spam you with my links now you've got here. Paypal accepted GoFundMe Campaign What it says on the tin really. I’m asking for funding. It’s that simple, I need help. About me: Name: D Michelle Gent – known by various friends, colleagues and acquaintances as Michelle, Shell, Mich, Chelle and universally – Trouble – No I don’t know why… that’s not true, I DO know why but I can’t help it, I promise. I’m a writer, I have a few books out, all of which are Urban Fantasy/Horror. I have seven short stories written too, they are Young Adult Urban Fantasy and I’m getting good reviews all round for all of them. You can check the first of the short stories out for free if you like, here: Dusty the Demon Hunter Family: Yes, a good, supportive and slightly unorthodox family that love and support me in everything I do. Life: Ups and downs but more ups than downs, especially the last few years. Although a few of the downs have been cataclysmic and life-changing (not in a good way), we’ve got through relatively successfully. Reason for this fundraising: There is no room for anything but the absolute truth in this, which is why I’m baring my soul and putting everything out there. The reason I’m starting this fundraiser is because I’m scared. Actually, I’m not just scared, I’m absolutely bloody terrified. My husband is my life and soul, soul-mate, best friend, companion, rock and wind beneath my wings. Since we met when I was 16 and still at school, he’s been all I ever want and all I ever need. Three years ago, he had a heart attack. He was underground at the time (he’s a coal miner) and he was alone. He managed to walk, stagger and struggle for almost half a mile to find others who could help stretcher him out of the pit (mine) and help make sure he didn’t die. The phone call I received altered my life immeasurably. I could tell you how it cut my legs from under me, how it collapsed my world around me and everything else I felt, but I’m sure you can imagine the helplessness and utter despair I experienced when I was told he’d had a heart attack and was on his way in an ambulance to the hospital. He spent three days there, being checked, observed and helped. He's on medication for the rest of his life now. I decided then that I would do whatever I could to make sure he never had to go underground again. Well, it turns out I’ve not been able to pay off the mortgage, we still need his wage. This year, the mine where he works has been in trouble, big trouble. It is closing next year and Trev will be out of work – which means more struggle and worry for us. Rather than hoping that something will come along, I’m getting my head into gear and doing something about it right now. I’m in the middle of a few projects, at least one of which will be finished by the end of the year. I have the 4th in the Urban Fantasy/Horror series started, mapped out in my head and rattling around in the background. There are a number of themes for the short stories running around, alongside a brand new Paranormal Detective type story. The last of the main projects is the more contemporary, almost true to life story about bikers, set in the 80s. I’m VERY excited about that one, I must admit. This fundraising will enable me to concentrate more on the projects in my head. Bear with me, you’ve read thus far: The utterly unrealistic, pie-in-the-sky goal is to pay off the £90,000 ($153,000) mortgage before next summer. The wouldn’t-it-be-wonderful, I’m-so-bloody-lucky goal is to raise a (FABULOUSLY) healthy year’s wage of £50,000 ($85,000). The totally-awesome wage of £25,000 ($42,000) is the next goal. £15,000 ($25,000) would ensure peace of mind until next summer, allowing me to work on my writing and get at least three of the full novels finished. £10,000 ($17,000) would allow me to finish at least two of the novels. If I raised £5,000 ($8,500) – which is a more realistic and attainable goal of course – I could concentrate on getting the 80s project out and give me time to work on other contingency plans for the summer when the pit (mine) eventually closes. Of course, I’d be grateful for every penny and cent that came my way and I would show my gratitude in a number of ways, so I’m setting a goal for my fundraising of £2,500 ($4,250). In return, there will be ebooks, printed books – including a full collection of all my works to date, signed paperbacks, hardbacks and limited editions, numbered hardback books. Along with various thank you pieces – bookmarks, postcards, posters, mentions on Twitter, mentions on Facebook, a character named after you, personal thank you in the form of a hand-written letter, PLUS each donator will be mentioned by name on my personal Blog and in a specially filmed Vlog. Not only that, but my undying and unending gratitude for helping me to keep my family, my peace of mind and what’s left of my sanity intact. I will also promise to answer every email, post and connection on Facebook and Twitter asking about the progress of ALL the projects. If you can help, here's the link GoFundMe A tap on his shoulder took him by surprise, as did the hand pulling his head down for a kiss. He didn’t close his eyes but he did kiss her back. He heard the cat-calls and whoops surrounding him but he didn’t care. Debbie Simpson! Who would have thought it? She slipped her tongue between his lips just as she broke her grip on him and he lifted his head and blinked his surprise. She didn’t wait around for conversation, she just said, “Happy birthday,” and left. “Go on you donkey, follow her!” Matt said and gave him a push in the direction she’d gone in. Staffy heard them all laughing as he followed Debbie. Something like ‘something in the water tonight’. He lost her as he got to the corridor. She had disappeared. He decided to take a quick look see if she’d waited for him close by. As he passed the ladies’ toilets, a hand snaked out and grabbed his wrist, making him spill some of his vodka. The hand pulled him through the doorway and there she was, Debbie Simpson. Before he could say anything else, she took hold of both sides of his face and kissed him again. Then she backed into one of the toilets and locked the door behind him. She was groping at the button on his jeans before he could put his glass down on the toilet cistern. Luckily, youth was on his side and he was up to the task before his zip was open. He thought he was in for another blow-job but Debbie had other ideas. She slipped her briefs down and hoisted her skirt up as she was stepping out of them. She pushed him back to give a little more room but a frontal attack was not going to be quite possible so she changed tactic, turned and leaned on the cistern, legs astride the toilet, presenting a strategy for an attack from the rear. Not needing diagrams of explanation, he shuffled forwards. He reached forward and slipped two fingers into her, drawing a moan of pleasure, then guiding his dick, he entered her easily. She seemed to have been building herself up for it, she was wet, hot and slippery. He pumped her with vigour and she returned the compliment by wriggling in time to his thrusts. Her head was thrown back and she was enjoying him. He realised that she had her eyes closed only when he looked up and saw a row of faces over the top of the stall. He hadn’t heard them climbing up over the noise that he and Debbie were making. It didn’t put him off his stroke, but just before he came, he ran his hand around the front of her waist to hold her to him as he told them, “Just fuck off!” He knew she’d struggle when she realised that she had an audience but she wouldn’t stop him coming. He pulled out of her at the critical moment, embarrassment avoided because their audience had done as he told them. For the second time that evening, he shot his load and watched it slide down the wall as he part-closed his eyes in the ecstasy of the moment, manipulating his cock to get all his ejaculate free. She was mortified at the audience but she was giggling in spite of it. She pulled a ribbon of toilet paper to wipe herself dry and pulled her briefs back on, then handed him another large wad of toilet paper to mop his dick before he put it back into his jeans. Debbie kissed him again, slipped a piece of paper into his hand and unlocked the door, pushing him out of the way and leaving him to rearrange his own clothing. Staffy knew that his mates were not far away as Debbie left, they were all shouting to her and asking if they could have a go now. He smiled as he heard her squealing at them good-natured but embarrassed and then they left her alone as he exited the toilets. A huge cheer went up as he got out into the corridor, followed by loud and off-key singing of ‘Happy birthday to you!’ As he doubled back to retrieve his drink, he shouted to them, “Fuck off, jealous bastards!” and then followed them back to the party. Today is an anniversary for me. It's not one that you'd think of celebrating. It's on this day almost 40 years ago that I was attacked by school 'mates' as I was walking to catch the bus home from my friend's birthday tea.
Four of them approached us; two girls, two boys and things escalated fast. By the time they'd finished, I had been kicked in the head, my ear cartilage was broken, I had bruises all up my arms and my back had been stamped on repeatedly. My parents took it further and the police took two of the attackers to court. I had to endure the next day at school and the main instigator and her friends (who hadn't been there at the time) coming up to me all day saying I was overreacting and that it had been a joke. When they realised that it had got serious and they were going to be in court for it, things began to get nastier. I was in the same classes as the two girls and the opinion of our year was divided. I'd already been beaten physically, but that year I had to endure the mental beating-up too - not just from those who had been there on that playing field at the time either. Everyone had an opinion on what had happened, depending on who they preferred to listen to. When the court case came around, the Magistrate (juvenile court) asked me a question I've never forgotten. "Are you frightened of this girl?" I replied that yes, I was frightened of her. I didn't say she'd kicked seven shades of shit out of me, why the hell wouldn't I be? But maybe if I had, I wouldn't have come to this thought-process: Yes, she and three others intimidated me to the point that my mind decided not to fight back because I'd save myself a more severe beating - hindsight is 20-20 but I'll never know if that notion would have held true. One of the boys had no problem in hitting girls, I know that because he hit me so would one or all of them have jumped in if I had started getting the better of the instigator? I'll never know, the only thing I do know is this, they did beat me, they did intimidate me - there and after, for months - but they did NOT kill me. I survived, I developed and after the case I started thinking "Yes, she DID frighten me, but if that was her best effort, she didn't kill me, I got up, I went on and I believe I'm a stronger and more tenacious person because of it." Did they do me a favour that evening back in the 70s? Hell NO! I took the situation and I built on it. I get the reward, I get the praise, the kudos, I did it. I survived it all. So do I celebrate this anniversary? No, not particularly, but I remember. |
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