All posts by Jeana E. Mann

Cover award!

The cover for Committed (designed by yours truly) has been nominated for Cover of The Month at www.allauthor.com and has made it to the final round! If you get a chance, please take a minute to vote. Thank you so much for your support. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.

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What to write next?

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Hmmm…so many ideas and so little time.

My first order of business is to finish up Pretty Broken Promises. There are a few loose threads to tie up from the previous books. Maxwell Seaforth needs to be dealt with. And I’d like to explore the struggles of what happens after marriage. Sam and Dakota are subjected to the same issues as other husbands and wives; money problems, work, and children. I can hardly write fast enough to get the words onto paper. I really like the premise of the Pretty Broken series and I enjoy writing about alpha billionaire males, so don’t be surprised if a few more books show up in the future.

I’ve also had quite a few requests for another book about Ally and Jack from the Felony Romance series. Intoxicated was originally 100,000 words, so I actually have the rest of the story written. I just need to find the time somewhere to dust it off and get it to the editor.

After that, I have an idea for a ten book serial. Extra hot, extra steamy, and very naughty. Look for it late this year or early 2017.

5 REASONS TO READ AN INDIE OR SELF-PUBLISHED BOOK

5 REASONS

No matter what you may have heard to the contrary, self-publishing is a growing industry. Take a look at the recent list of bestsellers, and you’ll see any number of self-published books on the list. Here are my top five reasons you should give one of these gems a chance:

1. Lower Price – Self-publishers control book production from start to finish. Because they don’t have the high overhead costs of a traditional publishing house, they are able to keep prices reasonable. In traditional publishing, more people require a cut of the profit with the author often being at the bottom of the list. Self-publishers are efficient at keeping their costs low to maintain a reasonable price and pass the savings on to their beloved readers. And because self-publishers are in control of their pricing, they are able to run sales or offer the first book in a series for free.

2. Subject matter – Indie books are often on the cutting edge of popular genres. The authors are passionate about their chosen subject matter. Because the writers don’t have to answer to a corporate gatekeeper or fit a business model, they can touch on edgy and dark topics previously regarded as taboo by the more conservative traditional publishers. They are only limited by the bounds of their creativity.

3. Speed – You no longer have to wait years to get the next installment of your favorite series. In traditional publishing, it often takes a year or more for a book to move through the process of acceptance to print. Indie books have a shorter turnaround time from start to finish. Some indie authors publish 5-7 books a year or more.

4. Quality – When you buy indie, you are supporting an entire community of passionate freelance artists. Gone are the days of poorly written, unedited drivel. Although there are still some horrible self-published works out there, the numbers are dwindling. The quality of indie books has upgraded dramatically and continues to improve. Serious indie authors are raising the bar on quality, sending their works through several rounds of edits with beta readers and professional editors before producing a finished product. Often times, indie authors employ the same editors and cover artists as the traditional publishing houses, providing the same or better quality at a fraction of the cost.

5. Personal – Indie authors are closely connected and available to their readers. You can find them on Facebook, Twitter, and a multitude of other social media platforms. They welcome your feedback and love to interact with their fans. If you send an email or instant message to your favorite indie author, chances are very good that you will get a personal reply back. Indie authors also love to shower their followers with gifts, giveaways, free books, and prizes.

Let me add that this article is in no way meant to diminish the value of traditionally published books. There is a place in the reading world for both types; they offer different things for different people. Just because I like to eat at a restaurant, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good home cooked meal.

Jeana E. Mann is the award winning author of contemporary and erotic romance fiction and a member of Romance Writers of America. When she’s not writing books, you can find her on the nearest hiking trail with her two dogs, Mildred Wilson and Mabel Epperson. Connect with her at www.jeanaemann.net.

Romance Writers Weekly

 

 

Do you like to read romance novels? Wouldn’t you like to know more about your favorite authors? Well you came to the right place! Join the writers of Romance Weekly as we go behind the scenes of our books and tell all…about our writing of course! Every week we’ll answer questions and after you’ve enjoyed the blog on this site we’ll direct you to another. So come back often for a thrilling ride! Tell your friends and feel free to ask us questions in the comment box.

This week’s topic comes from Carrie Elks: Stephen King famously said that it’s necessary to ‘kill your darlings’ when editing your work. Do you have anything you had to remove from a book that you’re still proud of? Or something that embarrasses you so much it will never again see the light of day? If you’re feeling really brave, share some of it with us!

I must admit that my first book, Intoxicated, was over 400,000 words long. It was epic and the result of five years effort. I held onto every word of that book like my life depended on it. After all, I had put everything I had into writing it. When I finally decided to get serious and publish the darn thing, I realized I would have to do the dreaded thing and “kill my darlings”.

On the advice of several published authors, I cut the first chapter. It was mostly backstory anyway. Now, the story started in the thick of the action. Then I went in and deleted all the “info dumps” where I needlessly provided information that would put most readers to sleep. I also have an unconscious love for over-the-top drama. My editor said, “There sure is a lot of face-slapping going on. Is that really necessary?” She was so right. She also said, “Everyone is always ‘short of breath’ or their ‘heart is pounding’. You’re writing a book about physically abusive people with COPD.” I’m embarrassed to think about it now, but she was right. Bless her for sticking with me. I hope I’ve gotten better about those things.

Now, for the shameful admission: I am a word-hoarder. I couldn’t bear to part with the 330,000 words that I cut, so I stuck them in a file. Yes, I still have them, and yes, I occasionally go back to read them. I’m thinking about writing a sequel and might use parts of it.

I’m currently in edits on my fifth book. Sometimes I cringe at the thought of deleting one of my favorite scenes, but in the end, it’s all about what serves the story. If the scene doesn’t move the plot forward or provide growth for the characters, it’s got to go. I won’t say that it’s easy, but I’ve gotten a lot better about it.

Thanks for stopping by this week. Be sure to take the next stop on the tour and find out what creative idea Xio Axelrod has come up with for this interesting topic.

 

ROMANCE WRITERS WEEKLY

 

 

Romance weekly pic

Do you like to read romance novels? Wouldn’t you like to know more about your favorite authors? Well you came to the right place! Join the writers of Romance Weekly as we go behind the scenes of our books and tell all…about our writing of course! Every week we’ll answer questions and after you’ve enjoyed the blog on this site we’ll direct you to another. So come back often for a thrilling ride! Tell your friends and feel free to ask us questions in the comment box.

This week we’re doing something a little different. We’re creating flash fiction of 500 words or less. The theme comes from Fiona Riplee and must include an empty parking lot, abandoned SUV, and a Chihuahua in the driver’s seat. I can’t wait to see what everyone has come up with.

Kelli was already twenty minutes late for work when the tire blew on her Mercedes convertible. The car jerked at the moment Kelli lifted her coffee for a sip. Hot brown liquid splattered down the front of her cream silk suit. She dropped the coffee cup on her lap and gripped the steering wheel with both hands.

The morning had started off in the worst possible way. Her alarm failed to go off, the dog threw up on the new white sofa, and the hot water heater went out in the middle of her shower. In the interest of time, she had taken a shorter but more dangerous route. Now she had a flat tire in the worst part of town where a double homicide happened in broad daylight less than a week ago. Just her luck. She limped the car into the nearest parking lot, empty except for an abandoned SUV, and considered her options. With no bars on her cellphone, the best choice seemed to be the convenience store on the next block.

She searched her purse and found the canister of pepper spray her dad had given her years ago. She tucked it in her pocket and clutched it with white knuckles as she walked along the abandoned sidewalk. The buildings beside her were boarded up, covered with gang graffiti and eerily silent. A shiver shook her despite the burning summer heat. She felt the weight of unfamiliar eyes watching her every step.

The heel of her stiletto caught in a crack of the pavement. She stumbled and would have gone down but for the strong hands that gripped her elbows. Startled, she looked up into the unfamiliar scarred face of a stranger. His mouth quirked in a knowing smile, sending a bolt of panic into her gut.

“Thanks,” she said and hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt.

“My pleasure,” he replied, in a gritty voice. His hands slid up her arms and lingered on her bare shoulders.

She stepped back and tried to go around him, but he moved with her, blocking her path. Fear snaked up her spine. She scanned the street, but it was empty. Her fingers tightened around the pepper spray, ready to react if he came one step closer.

The screech of tires distracted the man as a purple Buick rounded the corner. Zebra stripes covered the seats and pink velvet covered the dashboard. The car skidded to a halt next to her and the passenger door flew open.

“Get in.” The voice belonged to a wizened old woman perched on a pillow, looking like a Chihuahua sitting in the driver’s seat. A giant pistol rested across her lap. “Hurry up.”

Kelli dove into the car as the man made a grab for her. The car careened down the street at breakneck speed while Kelli tried to right herself. The old woman glanced over at her and revealed a toothless grin. She dropped Kelli at the closest auto body shop and drove away without comment.

When her co-workers asked her why she was late, Kelli just shook her head and said she’d had car trouble. She doubted anyone would believe her farfetched tale. In fact, she hardly believed it herself.

Thanks for stopping by this week. Be sure to take the next stop on the tour and find out what creative idea Leslie Hachtel has come up with.

 

COVER REVEAL: Fire’s Field, The Elemental Series Book #2

COVER REVEAL:  Fire’s Field, The Elementals Series Book #2

 

Fire's Field

 

Bound by a dark enchantment, only an elemental flame can light the way.

BLURB:

 

Vengeance

Forged in rage and sorrow, a dark witch’s spell travels down her ancestral line to Violet Levina. Enchanted with the power of the entire Electromagnetic spectrum—microwaves, gamma rays, radio waves, Violet is cursed with limitless energy and the obligation to destroy an insidious creature composed of dark matter.

Justice

For over five hundred years, Flint has served as Fire, aiding Earth’s environment and its people as one of four Elementals. Yet only once in his long existence has he been burned. A flaming redhead ignites the embers of his heart, but he finds her resistant to the heat building between them.

Illumination

Knowing she must fulfill her destiny, Violet travels to her ancestral home in Ireland, accompanied by the fiery Elemental. Not fooled by his charms and brazen demeanor, Violet wishes only to shield him from the coming battle, but can’t deny the flames of desire flickering when she is at his side.

Love

While standing together against unrelenting adversaries, false friends, family betrayals, and an underlying seed of darkness, they must burn bright or the ruthless power behind the ancient spell will turn everything to ash.

With Flint as her beacon in a field of darkness, Violet will discover that love holds the most powerful magic of all.

 

Fire’s Field Release date: May 19th, 2015

Jillian Jacobs Bio:  In the spring of 2013, Jillian Jacobs changed her career path and became a romance writer. After reading for years, she figured writing a romance would be quick and easy. Nope! With the guidance of the Indiana Romance Writers of America chapter, she’s learned there are many “rules” to writing a proper romance. Being re-schooled has been an interesting journey, and she hopes the best trails are yet to be traveled.

Water’s Threshold, the first in Jillian’s Elementals series, was a finalist in Chicago-North’s 2014 Fire and Ice contest in the Women’s Fiction category.

Jillian is a: Tea Guzzler, Polish Pottery Hoarder, and lover of all things Moose.

The genres she writes under are: Paranormal and Contemporary with suspenseful elements.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: www.jillianjacobs.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/GreenMooseProd

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jillian-Jacobs/737689872920933

 

 

Fire’s Field Prologue Excerpt #1:

 

They were coming for her.

On the eve of her mother’s 25th birthday, a young witch fought back chills as the sounds of braying bloodhounds echoed through the forest. A single red stroke, mixed with the faintest purple, lit the darkening sky, as night, along with death, crept closer.

At the banks of River Nore, Sorcha rocked back and forth, tears of innocence-lost escaping down her cheeks. Heart splintering, she searched her memory for a spell to ease her mother’s torment. With her hands locked in the fabric of her mother’s woolen dress, she chanted pleas to the Goddess Isis to hear her cries and heal her mother.

To no avail.

The only answer came in the form of the demon’s sickness dripping from her mother’s mouth in a sludge of grimy gray mud.

Fear unlike anything she’d ever felt iced her heart, as once more she begged, swore her very life in exchange for the continued beat of her mother’s heart.

A piercing pain shot through her overburdened mind as the beast fought to break through her mental shields. Weakened by her angst and un-tested youth, she left a crack exposed, and the beast slipped in. Squinting her eyes closed, her entire body shaking with the will to deny the sick beast entrance, she couldn’t prevent his foul words from seeping through.

“Your mother paid for her defiance, for her inability to accept this gift only I could give her. Look at you simpering and shaking, if you weren’t so weak I’d use you, but no matter, I’ll be back.”

Drained from holding back the tempest, Sorcha let loose true sobs for the loss of the deepest love of her life, her solid fortress during every storm, the lyrical voice singing away her nightmares. Ignoring her drenched skirts, she released all her torment against her mother’s breast, barely catching the beat of her mother’s weakening heart between each aching moan torn from the depths of her soul.

No one came to her aid. No one soothed her broken spirit.

The sounds of the hounds drew closer, their howls a mad cacophony in her surreal world. The yellow-glow from fire-tipped sticks, created a mystical glow in the woods before her. Snaps and cracks of branches reverberated across the forest as the frenzied townspeople advanced to accuse and convict one of their own—a witch.

 

Fire’s Field Excerpt #2

With each stroke of his tongue in her sweet mouth, he freed his white-hot nature.

She joined in the heated molding of their lips. Needy gasps escaped from her mouth. Her hands unclenched and clenched his striped, dress shirt, before she broke away. “This will…I can’t…this will ruin everything. The prophecy states—”

“I thought you were a scientist.” He seared kisses along the curve of her neck and shoulder.

Violet bit her plumped lower lip. “I am, but you see—”

“Why would you believe in something as scientifically unsupported as a prophecy?”

“Because I come from a line of witches.”

He nudged her with his hips. “Would you like to see—”

“Don’t you dare say it.” Violet glared before bracing two fingers against his lips.

“Say what?”

She tipped back and studied face. “You know exactly what you were going to say.”

He hunched his shoulders and raised a single brow. “I was just going to ask if you would like to see the dessert list.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why Violet, you seem disappointed.” He stifled a grin. “What exactly did you want me to say?”

She poked him.

A tiny electric pulse shocked then burned his neck.

“Ow!” He jerked, then nudged away her hand. “Damn it.”

“Understand this, I don’t find your perverse innuendoes funny.”

“Woman, I may be an Elemental, but I can still feel pain.” He rubbed his neck and pondered why her jolt had actually elicited a sexual response.

Violet shrugged.

Her indifferent shrug sent a blaze of fury down his spine, lighting his elemental nature. She really had no idea who she was dealing with.

He arched a brow and flashed a searing grin. “If offending you ignites your inner spark, then I’ll do exactly that, because that is who you really are, that is the woman I want unleashed.” He kissed her once more before settling her stunned form back in her seat.

Ms. Gamma-girl needed to understand she wasn’t the only one who could deliver a shock.

 

Fire’s Field Excerpt #3

The running water stopped, and moments later the bathroom door slid open, and though he knew it was a mistake, Flint glanced at the vision appearing out of the steam.

Violet’s semi-dry hair lay in strands against her shoulders. Her pajama top made evident she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath, and her shorts revealed trim legs. Her smell evoked thoughts of a field of flowers in some forbidden land where you could look but not pluck. Hell, forget plucking. What he wanted involved total annihilation of her body, marking her with his fiery tattoo. Burning across every inch of her skin until she melted in the overwhelming blaze. But there wouldn’t be any burning or marking, she was innocent. And though, he’d sear down that path soon, tonight wouldn’t lead him anywhere but out the door.

 

Fire’s Field Excerpt #4

“I think…I believe perhaps she’s been infected by Quint.”

Oh, please no, those words were not helping her tamp down this overwhelming surge to destroy something. Then suddenly, an odd surge of hate seeped from somewhere deep in her soul. No, she didn’t hate, where was this foreign expression of emotion coming from. Her whole body began to shake. “Flint, I’m going to need you to back away. It’s my duty to—”

“No, Violet. Calm down.” He gripped her shoulders, and his eyes flared red. “Listen, she’s not fully infected, just a small seed. I see swirling darkness in her mind, and her willingness to heeds its call. A small slither of whatever Quint is, exists within her. He’s always been able to track us. I believe that’s how she’s following me. But she has no grander scheme today. This was just her having a little fun.”

Violet opened the door, and collapsed onto the seat. Bending over she braced her elbows on her knees, and scrubbed her hands through her hair. Focus. Don’t let it out.

 

Fire’s Field Excerpt #5

In an effort to calm her own desires, Violet took a deep breath and bit down hard on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I just feel this sense of urgency.” She cupped his jaw. “Everything about my life has been so very controlled, fixed on one goal. Equations with answers, but with you, I’m like…well, like Pi, a never ending number.” She leaned forward and brushed a light kiss on his warm lips. “Everything about you is so raw.”

“So I’m raw pie?” Flint chuckled and then kissed her forehead. With a bit of finagling, he reversed their positions and settled her between his legs. “We’ll have our more, but not here. This isn’t our place.” The husky murmur vibrated more through his chest than his lips.

Violet shuffled against him. Silent, because she understood taking their more would need to happen soon. She nodded and squeezed his hand. “No, this isn’t our place.” A twinge of sadness stole across her heart. How many moments of stillness did they have? Moments of just reveling in quiet comfort. Of finding peace through the simple joining of their hands.

At times like these, the weight of the spell’s burden became almost unbearable. The urge to scream and pull her hair, to fight back with an enchantment of her own, scorched across her damned soul.

Each hand on the clock ticked closer to her final showdown. Centuries ago, her ancestor had written the equation of her life across the chalkboard of time—no X, no Y, just death.

 

Fire’s Field Excerpt #6

In the darkness, Flint handed Violet what felt like a piece of glass.

“I can’t see. What is it?” The piece was still warm from his touch.

“Need me to shine a little light on the subject?” Flint chuckled then raised his hand beside hers and lit a small flame in his palm.

The light flickered across the glass and illuminated his gift.

A vibrant purple flower.

“It’s a violet.” Violet brushed her finger against the glass petals.

“No, it’s more than that. Look closer.”

Flint waved the flame over the flower.

And she saw it—a heart bursting with every shade of red sparkled within the flower’s glass core.

“Oh Flint, It’s beautiful. So precious. However did you get that heart inside?”

“You tell me.” He tipped her chin to meet her gaze. “Because my heart is locked deep inside a violet, and I never want to break free.”