So here we are, talking about the WIP, the work in progress. In this case, the work nearly ready for submission.
What is the working title of your book?
High Concept
Where did the idea come from for the book?
Not sure—just occurred to me.
What genre does your book fall under?
M/M contemporary romantic suspense
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie?
Mmm…Not sure about this.
What is a one sentence synopsis of your book?
A detective and an FBI profiler must ignore their past and collaborate to solve a series of deadly home invasions before they become the next victims.
Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
--Likely a small publisher.
How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
Four months.
What other books would you compare this story to within your genre.
Mmm…LA Witt, maybe. She's got a couple that are of a similar genre.
Who or What inspired you to write this book?
A police shooting.
What else about your book might interest the reader?
Blurb:
Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac, and one man will sacrifice anything to have it, including human lives. Beck Stryker, homicide cop and shooting survivor, lives to solve the case that left him with chronic pain and killed his co-investigator four months previous; now his career hinges on his ability to work with the FBI profiler who shut down his advances two years ago. After parting ways with Beck, Zach never anticipated working with him again, let alone on a series of killings that continue after the only suspect died in a shootout. Businessman Isaac Olivetti has his sights set on winning the governor’s race, but he’s behind in the polls—until a series of home invasions leaves his wife and daughter dead. The killer will stop at nothing to protect his investment, and as they zero in on the plot behind the murders, the crosshairs zero in on Beck and Zach.
Link: http://lanirhea.blogspot.com/?zx=9e259c67fcc2d284
Link back: www.sarahmadisonfiction.com
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Kiss Me Straight
Michael Thomas joins me today to give us a taste of Todd Eisenbraun, the hero of Kiss Me Straight. Todd's an international kind of guy, a flight attendant with a wicked sense of humor, and he's agreed to answer a couple of questions.
What is your name and occupation?
My name is Todd Eisenbraun, and I’m a flight attendant for a big international airline, based in San Francisco. Actually my name is Walter Todd Eisenbraun, but only my dad calls me Walter. And I really wish he wouldn’t.
How old are you?
I’m starting to come to grips with the fact that I’m thirty. Which is probably a good thing, since I’ll be thirty-five on my next birthday.
How did you come by your current occupation?
I needed the hell out of Ogallala, Nebraska is how. I studied French and Spanish in college, and Globe Runner Airlines was hiring Spanish speakers for their flight attendant base in Buenos Aires.
Do you like your job? Why or why not?
It’s a living. I loved it when I started! We had a blast in Argentina, and the Hong Kong base was good fun for a couple years. I’m always down for a good time on my layovers—Sydney’s a blast!—but lately I’m starting to wonder if I really want to be so far away from my friends in San Francisco all the time, you know? But my rent won’t pay itself, and I love how much time off I get at Globe Runner. I can rock out the First Class galley like nobody’s business, and I’m still a great flight attendant. As long as you keep me away from the people.
Who is the person you dislike the most?
Bobby Dutta! Just kidding. He’s a great guy. Who needs to keep his hands to his damn self.
Who is the person you respect the most?
My little brother Bertie. I don’t always understand him, and our lives are very different, but he stands by his values, and he challenges me to stand by mine.
Is there anyone special in your life?
You know there’s a whole book about how nuts I am about this guy Josh, right?
What’s your favorite meal, and do you fix it yourself or have someone fix it for you?
Anything made by my friend Chris. He’s the chef at our friend’s café, and he’s a genius. And the boy can eat, too…
Favorite color?
Blue.
Football or baseball?
Definitely baseball. Way better butts on baseball players.
Favorite exercise?
I ride my bike out to Ocean Beach every once in a while, just because I grew up in Nebraska and I think it’s pretty cool that I live close enough to the ocean to ride my bike to it. And hiking up to the Great Wall of China in the middle of the night on a Beijing layover turned out to be pretty rewarding.
Favorite holiday?
My family makes a pretty big deal out of Christmas. It’s a good excuse for me to home, and time with my brothers is cheaper and more fun than therapy.
Favorite song?
Chris has brought an awful lot of Judy Garland into my life. She sings, “The only bridge that’s a real gone bridge is the bridge across the Bay to San Francisco.” Pretty hard to argue with that.
Excerpt:
“So,” I said, not beating around any bushes, “tell me about this new guy.”
“Oh, he’s wonderful!” she gushed. “He came into the café the other day, and we got to talking. He’s an incredible sweetheart, and I think he’s got some talent. So I offered him a job,” she told me, “I want for you to meet him. I think you and he just might hit it off, Todd.”
“Katie mentioned that you might have something like that up your sleeve,” I told her. She flashed the briefest cross expression at Katie for spoiling her big idea. “You’ve never had a man behind the counter that I wouldn’t willingly marry,” I went on, “and you know my taste, so I am sure I would be delighted to meet him.”
“Oh, Chris won’t be counter help,” she said. “He’s my new chef, and I have only the highest hopes.”
And he’s a chef. This keeps sounding better. “But whatever happened to your motto?”
Marzipan flashed another look at Katie, this one slightly guilty. “Which motto is that, darling?”
“‘Never trust a skinny chef,’” I reminded her.
“Todd, those are words to live by. Chris is no one’s vision of skinny. In fact, he’s rather … abundant.” It took her a second to land on the exactly right euphemism, I couldn’t help but notice.
“Abundant?”
“Abundant.” She sipped her tea, not meeting my eye.
“You mean he’s fat?”
“I mean he’s positively a treasure, and the more of him, the better,” she said, without contradicting me.
“But I’m into skinny guys,” I pointed out.
Groans from both Marzipan and Katie. “Todd,” Katie insisted on reminding me, “You’re into unattainable guys. You’re into torturing yourself over straight guys and men who live three continents away.”
It is a particularly prickly thorn in the side of many of my friends, including these two, that I spend much of my free time whining about being single, and yet I seem unable to break free of a counterproductive and irresistible attraction to straight men. I mean, I’ve been out of the closet for years, to all of my friends and my conservative small-town family, and I live in the city known throughout the world as the Center of the Gay Universe. I am more confident in my looks and comfortable in my skin than I was when I was a hunky twenty-two-year old new hire — in an industry, no less, where to even get close to a straight guy, I have to push three or four hot gay guys out of my way. And yet, surrounded by eligible gay men, I throw myself again and again at guys who invariably have to sit me down and explain how they’re flattered, but …
Ignoring Bobby Dutta’s taunts of internalized homophobia and Katie’s diagnosis of a Fear of Intimacy, I prefer to think I just like a challenge. After all, if a man’s worth loving, he must be worth some psychic torment, mustn’t he?
Marzipan arched an expertly-plucked eyebrow at me. “Do you suppose,” she asked, “you might be able to overlook something like your waist size preference if the otherwise-perfect man came along? I think you might really like this guy, Todd. He struck me. He’s handsome, sweet, funny, he’s an excellent cook.”
“And,” Katie chimed in, “unlike the last fifty guys you’ve chased around the world, he’s gay.”
Okay, she did have a point there. The idea of a lean, muscled straight guy renouncing women because he can no longer ignore his smoldering love for me has been my requisite for “Happily Ever After” since I set out after my first straight guy in high school. Traveling the world for a living, I have certainly had my share of one-night stands with straight (and “straight-acting”) guys, a couple of which were fantastically hot. And, at 34, I am decidedly still single. A guy could do a lot worse than the men who usually surround Marzipan.
“You don’t have to become life partners just because I want to introduce you,” Marzipan continued, after I had gone several beats without responding. “I just thought maybe you’d like to sample a new dish from the man buffet that is your life. You can always go back for something else if it doesn’t satisfy.”
A dyed-in-the-wool monogamist, Katie burst out laughing at this description of my dating style. “And it sounds like this Chris guy might be all you can eat!” she cracked, getting into the spirit.
Thanks, Todd.
**Michael has a couple of book signings in the Denver Metro area in November:
Michael will read from and sign copies of Kiss Me, Straight at Spark Theater, in the Santa Fe Art District at 985 Santa Fe Drive in Denver, on Saturday, November 24th, from noon to 3. There will be a drawing for prizes, including CDs, Pablo's coffee, and copies of the book!
BUY: JMS Books Amazon
Contact: Facebook Twitter: @MrStewardess Email
My name is Todd Eisenbraun, and I’m a flight attendant for a big international airline, based in San Francisco. Actually my name is Walter Todd Eisenbraun, but only my dad calls me Walter. And I really wish he wouldn’t.
How old are you?
I’m starting to come to grips with the fact that I’m thirty. Which is probably a good thing, since I’ll be thirty-five on my next birthday.
How did you come by your current occupation?
I needed the hell out of Ogallala, Nebraska is how. I studied French and Spanish in college, and Globe Runner Airlines was hiring Spanish speakers for their flight attendant base in Buenos Aires.
Do you like your job? Why or why not?
It’s a living. I loved it when I started! We had a blast in Argentina, and the Hong Kong base was good fun for a couple years. I’m always down for a good time on my layovers—Sydney’s a blast!—but lately I’m starting to wonder if I really want to be so far away from my friends in San Francisco all the time, you know? But my rent won’t pay itself, and I love how much time off I get at Globe Runner. I can rock out the First Class galley like nobody’s business, and I’m still a great flight attendant. As long as you keep me away from the people.
Who is the person you dislike the most?
Bobby Dutta! Just kidding. He’s a great guy. Who needs to keep his hands to his damn self.
Who is the person you respect the most?
My little brother Bertie. I don’t always understand him, and our lives are very different, but he stands by his values, and he challenges me to stand by mine.
Is there anyone special in your life?
You know there’s a whole book about how nuts I am about this guy Josh, right?
What’s your favorite meal, and do you fix it yourself or have someone fix it for you?
Anything made by my friend Chris. He’s the chef at our friend’s café, and he’s a genius. And the boy can eat, too…
Favorite color?
Blue.
Football or baseball?
Definitely baseball. Way better butts on baseball players.
Favorite exercise?
I ride my bike out to Ocean Beach every once in a while, just because I grew up in Nebraska and I think it’s pretty cool that I live close enough to the ocean to ride my bike to it. And hiking up to the Great Wall of China in the middle of the night on a Beijing layover turned out to be pretty rewarding.
Favorite holiday?
My family makes a pretty big deal out of Christmas. It’s a good excuse for me to home, and time with my brothers is cheaper and more fun than therapy.
Favorite song?
Chris has brought an awful lot of Judy Garland into my life. She sings, “The only bridge that’s a real gone bridge is the bridge across the Bay to San Francisco.” Pretty hard to argue with that.
Excerpt:
“So,” I said, not beating around any bushes, “tell me about this new guy.”
“Oh, he’s wonderful!” she gushed. “He came into the café the other day, and we got to talking. He’s an incredible sweetheart, and I think he’s got some talent. So I offered him a job,” she told me, “I want for you to meet him. I think you and he just might hit it off, Todd.”
“Katie mentioned that you might have something like that up your sleeve,” I told her. She flashed the briefest cross expression at Katie for spoiling her big idea. “You’ve never had a man behind the counter that I wouldn’t willingly marry,” I went on, “and you know my taste, so I am sure I would be delighted to meet him.”
“Oh, Chris won’t be counter help,” she said. “He’s my new chef, and I have only the highest hopes.”
And he’s a chef. This keeps sounding better. “But whatever happened to your motto?”
Marzipan flashed another look at Katie, this one slightly guilty. “Which motto is that, darling?”
“‘Never trust a skinny chef,’” I reminded her.
“Todd, those are words to live by. Chris is no one’s vision of skinny. In fact, he’s rather … abundant.” It took her a second to land on the exactly right euphemism, I couldn’t help but notice.
“Abundant?”
“Abundant.” She sipped her tea, not meeting my eye.
“You mean he’s fat?”
“I mean he’s positively a treasure, and the more of him, the better,” she said, without contradicting me.
“But I’m into skinny guys,” I pointed out.
Groans from both Marzipan and Katie. “Todd,” Katie insisted on reminding me, “You’re into unattainable guys. You’re into torturing yourself over straight guys and men who live three continents away.”
It is a particularly prickly thorn in the side of many of my friends, including these two, that I spend much of my free time whining about being single, and yet I seem unable to break free of a counterproductive and irresistible attraction to straight men. I mean, I’ve been out of the closet for years, to all of my friends and my conservative small-town family, and I live in the city known throughout the world as the Center of the Gay Universe. I am more confident in my looks and comfortable in my skin than I was when I was a hunky twenty-two-year old new hire — in an industry, no less, where to even get close to a straight guy, I have to push three or four hot gay guys out of my way. And yet, surrounded by eligible gay men, I throw myself again and again at guys who invariably have to sit me down and explain how they’re flattered, but …
Ignoring Bobby Dutta’s taunts of internalized homophobia and Katie’s diagnosis of a Fear of Intimacy, I prefer to think I just like a challenge. After all, if a man’s worth loving, he must be worth some psychic torment, mustn’t he?
Marzipan arched an expertly-plucked eyebrow at me. “Do you suppose,” she asked, “you might be able to overlook something like your waist size preference if the otherwise-perfect man came along? I think you might really like this guy, Todd. He struck me. He’s handsome, sweet, funny, he’s an excellent cook.”
“And,” Katie chimed in, “unlike the last fifty guys you’ve chased around the world, he’s gay.”
Okay, she did have a point there. The idea of a lean, muscled straight guy renouncing women because he can no longer ignore his smoldering love for me has been my requisite for “Happily Ever After” since I set out after my first straight guy in high school. Traveling the world for a living, I have certainly had my share of one-night stands with straight (and “straight-acting”) guys, a couple of which were fantastically hot. And, at 34, I am decidedly still single. A guy could do a lot worse than the men who usually surround Marzipan.
“You don’t have to become life partners just because I want to introduce you,” Marzipan continued, after I had gone several beats without responding. “I just thought maybe you’d like to sample a new dish from the man buffet that is your life. You can always go back for something else if it doesn’t satisfy.”
A dyed-in-the-wool monogamist, Katie burst out laughing at this description of my dating style. “And it sounds like this Chris guy might be all you can eat!” she cracked, getting into the spirit.
Thanks, Todd.
**Michael has a couple of book signings in the Denver Metro area in November:
Michael will read from and sign copies of Kiss Me, Straight at Spark Theater, in the Santa Fe Art District at 985 Santa Fe Drive in Denver, on Saturday, November 24th, from noon to 3. There will be a drawing for prizes, including CDs, Pablo's coffee, and copies of the book!
BUY: JMS Books Amazon
Contact: Facebook Twitter: @MrStewardess Email
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
What kind of Book Do You Get for a Buck?
99-cent books, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
A hundred books for a hundred bucks. What a bargain for the book hound.
Or is it?
These buck books are everywhere. Amazon sends a list of their newest ones, their top sellers, their "Books [I] Might Like" based on my buying history.
I’ve gotten a few excellent reads this way, discovered new authors whom I’ve followed on to their more expensive works. I’ve also purchased my share of not-so-good books for 99 cents.
Recently, I analyzed my eBook buying habits on Amazon over the last two years--not counting textbooks. :)
**I've learned to check how long the work is before I hit "Buy." Nothing worse than paying $5 for a twenty-page story that's so-so.
**The reviews actually can be helpful. Check them out.
**I don’t like to go over five bucks unless it’s an author I know and love. If I get a free sample of an unknown and love it, I buy it.
**Publishers sometimes have better deals--specials going on, volume discounts, etc. Most authors make more on buying direct, and the publisher certainly does.
**Seven dollars is my "ouch" point. Only for my tried and true authors, or for a sample book I love som much I know it'll be worth it.
**My average per book is $3.23.
With all the e-publishing going on and the many e-readers out there, what are you willing to pay? What do you average? Do you wait for a book to go on special, or try the publisher first for a better deal?
AND—
If you set the price of your book, where do you set it? Do you raise/lower the price depending on sales?
A hundred books for a hundred bucks. What a bargain for the book hound.
Or is it?
These buck books are everywhere. Amazon sends a list of their newest ones, their top sellers, their "Books [I] Might Like" based on my buying history.
I’ve gotten a few excellent reads this way, discovered new authors whom I’ve followed on to their more expensive works. I’ve also purchased my share of not-so-good books for 99 cents.
Recently, I analyzed my eBook buying habits on Amazon over the last two years--not counting textbooks. :)
**I've learned to check how long the work is before I hit "Buy." Nothing worse than paying $5 for a twenty-page story that's so-so.
**The reviews actually can be helpful. Check them out.
**I don’t like to go over five bucks unless it’s an author I know and love. If I get a free sample of an unknown and love it, I buy it.
**Publishers sometimes have better deals--specials going on, volume discounts, etc. Most authors make more on buying direct, and the publisher certainly does.
**Seven dollars is my "ouch" point. Only for my tried and true authors, or for a sample book I love som much I know it'll be worth it.
**My average per book is $3.23.
With all the e-publishing going on and the many e-readers out there, what are you willing to pay? What do you average? Do you wait for a book to go on special, or try the publisher first for a better deal?
AND—
If you set the price of your book, where do you set it? Do you raise/lower the price depending on sales?
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