Going back to Coming Home

Coming Home has come home to Holly

Picking a Favourite

For writers, books are like children – it’s impossible to have a favourite.

When my kids ask who my favourite child is, I always tell them I love them equally and for different reasons.

I feel the same way about the books I’ve written. I love Unexpecting because it was my first published and because of the secondary characters, Cooper and Emma and Brit. I love Absinthe because of the friendship of the women, and the twist at the end (which was fun to write!) I love Charlotte because I found I love writing action sequences, and I love Dragon for my kids.

 

 

I love Coming Home because…

And there lies the problem. Coming Home is the black sheep of my book family. I love it but…

…it has issues.

The History

Coming Home was published in 2013, by Etopia Press. The first time one of my books had been sold to a publisher, which helped validate my new attempt at a writing career. I loved the story – five sisters who grew up in a tiny little town in Northern Ontario; two of which loved each other but really never got along.

I still love the story. I love the characters and the interactions and the fight scene between… (oops, spoiler!)

I dedicated the book to my sister, because after she left a tumultuous marriage, I felt like I was getting my sister back in my life. Not only getting my sister back, but finding a new friend. Coming Home has a lot of personal meaning for me and I was ecstatic when I sold it to Etopia.

Last year, I starting working on finding my brand and all those fun marketing things that authors now need to deal with. I had covers re-did, changed some things around; I’m an independent author/publisher now, so I can do that! 🙂 I looked at Coming Home.

I couldn’t do a thing with it. I couldn’t change the description on-line, drop the price for a sale, change the cover (which doesn’t really fit with my others). My hands were tied, which wasn’t a nice feeling after doing everything myself for the last 4 years! So I started wondering what I could do. Coming Home never really sold well for Etopia. It’s mainly a romance publisher, and my book isn’t a romance. Plus, there was the edit problem when it first came out…

I’m not about to trash Etopia because they are lovely people. But let’s just say I was never really happy with the final version of the book. 

And now…

Long story short, I got the rights for Coming Home back from the publisher! And I’m about to re-release it into the world, under my Three Birds Press imprint.

New cover – same title

Same story – complete overhaul

I wrote Coming Home at the beginning of my career and I have to admit, I’m a MUCH better writer now! I’m almost finished the revisions – I’ve changed the POV from first person, to third, which is a bit of an undertaking. With critique partners now. Sending it to the editor next week. Cover reveal next week, and pre-order date.

I can’t say how much I’M IN LOVE WITH THIS BOOK!

It’s like the first time, all over again. It’s getting excited about a scene or a line of dialogue in the middle of the night, rushing to wake up to begin working on it. I can’t wait for people to read it! I’ll have to do a giveaway. In fact, I’m so happy with my changes that I want to offer a copy (paperback or ebook) to anyone who read the other version, just so they can see how much better it is! (Corinne, are you out there?)

So that’s what I’ve been up to lately. This is why my blog has been neglected. This is why I had to push off any thoughts of a book tour for The Best Worst First Date because it’s not ready! This is why my daughter is mad at me because I won’t work on her Dragon book! Coming Home has consumed me. I planned for a week of quick edits, a read-through by one of my crit partners which has now turned into two months and counting of daily re-writes of chapters. Cutting – I’ve cut so much! But it’s so much better for it.

I hope I’ve gotten you excited about it, too. Because you’ll be able to read it soon! 🙂

 

Merry Kerr-ismas!! Happy Holly-days!!

My present to you –

Select books only 99 cents until December 27!

Looking to gift yourself something fun this Christmas? Check out Absinthe, Unexpecting or Charlotte Dodd – or all 3! Only 99p!!!

Merry Christmas to you from me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blogging A-Z – Unexpecting

Blogging A-Z Challenge: April 24: U

The challenge is this: post on your blog everyday in April except Sundays, with each post corresponding with the letter of the alphabet. Only one week left to go!!

Baby! Baby? Baby?!

Baby! Baby? Baby?!

For today’s post, I’ve included an excerpt from my novel, Unexpecting. This is the new name and title of Baby! Baby? Baby!?, published in 2013. So if you’ve read Baby! you’ve read Unexpecting, but if you haven’t, give it a try because it’s only 99 cents right now!!!

Sometimes things don't go according to plan

Sometimes things don’t go according to plan

Click on the pic or the link to check it out on Amazon!

Unexpecting available as eboook from Amazon, but coming soon to B & N and Indigo, as well as in  print

 

 Casey Samms would love to have a baby.

But she’s having trouble finding Mr. Right to help her with this.

I’m 35 years old, which isn’t bad, but my copy of A Young Women’s Guide to the Joy of Impending Motherhood tells me time is running out to have a baby. I don’t know why I’m taking the advice of a book that’s been around for sixty years, but I’ve been reading it since I was twelve, so the words have kind of stuck. I’ve wanted a baby forever, but it’s impossible for me to find the right guy. My list of past boyfriends is embarrassingly long, a point my roommates J.B. and Cooper keep pointing out to me but how can I help it if I attract the wrong type of guy?

No more men. I’m going to do this the old-fashioned, artificial way. But then…

David, the only decent boyfriend I’ve ever had just shows up in the wine store one day. Can I convince him to stick around long enough to help me out with my baby plan?

Or do I really need to?

 5 stars!

“I would definitely recommend Unexpected (Baby! Baby? Baby?!) It was delightful, funny and entertaining.”

“Perfect for a bath and wine, or a read on the beach. Be warned, though, that I picked it up and finished it the next day. I was hooked.”

“The first sentence made me laugh out loud.”

Sometimes what is unexpected can be even better than what you can dream about

Here’s the first chapter.  Hope you enjoy!!!!

 

 Chapter One

A woman’s prime period of fertility occurs between the years of twenty-two and twenty-eight, with each year decreasing the chance of a happy and healthy conception. After the age of thirty-seven, a woman should not attempt to conceive.

 A Young Woman’s Guide to the Joy of Impending Motherhood

Dr. Francine Pascal Reid (1941)

But for some reason that passage has stuck with me for years. You know what it’s like to have one of those repetitive songs stuck in your head? A few summers ago, it was that “Umbrella” song—not that it was a bad song; in fact it was a pretty good song for a while, but at the end of August when I was still silently singing “ella, ella,” it got a little tiring. If you think having a song stuck in your head is bad, imagine silently repeating to yourself again and again, “After the age of thirty-seven, a woman should not attempt to conceive.”Bullshit, I know.

Most of me will agree I’m being silly in taking the words of a long-dead doctor to heart, but an itty-bitty part of me is still listening and using my fingers to count the months on the calendar until I hit the De-Fertility Zone. Silly, I know, but I can’t seem to help it.

Yes, I am fully aware that in this day and age there are countless women over thirty-seven who conceive and successfully deliver happy and healthy babies. I know that. You can’t pick up an issue of People magazine without knowing that. But for me, thirty-seven has been something of a deadline, and it’s looming ever closer these days. Here I am already at thirty-five, pushing headlong into thirty-six, which will inevitably lead to thirty-seven, the age when Dr. Francine Pascal Reid tells me I shouldn’t attempt to conceive. So how am I supposed to have a baby?

Going to a wedding yesterday certainly didn’t help.

Yesterday marked the seventeenth wedding I’ve been to in the last five years, and the ninth in which I’ve played the role of a bridesmaid. I remember reading something long ago, some old wives’ tale about three times a bridesmaid, never a bride. I guess I’m screwed three times over then.

To make things worse, it turned out that the entire bridal party—other than me, that is—were all pregnant. Of course, being basically a nice person, I was sincerely happy for them, but can you imagine how my own desire to have a baby might make me a tad resentful? The anticipation I had felt toward being part of the wedding dimmed a little as I was forced to listen to all the little baby comments and pregnancy stories, not to mention names and dates and crib styles. I had had just about enough when Darcy’s aunt Fran popped her head into the room where the five of us had just finished getting into our dresses (horrible green with, yes, a big butt bow). Once she’d cooed over us all, Aunt Fran announced that she thought it was just hilarious how Darcy had picked an entire bridal party of pregnant girls, assuming I was as pregnant as the others.

Mistakenly assuming a woman is pregnant is probably one of the worst gaffes a person can make. It just ends up embarrassing both parties, and there’s really no delicate way to get out of the situation. So when Darcy’s aunt said her little bit about how all the girls in the wedding party were pregnant (with a particularly poignant glance at me), Darcy’s mother came to my defence about how of course I can’t be pregnant because I don’t even have a husband. I’m sure she meant well, but it really didn’t help. It also didn’t help hearing Michelle and Priya (six months along, with the most adorable little baby belly poking out of the dress) try to stifle their laughter.

If you haven’t already got the point, my most fervent desire is to have a baby. Having my own baby is something I’ve always dreamed about. I still have my Rub-A-Dub Dolly, my six Cabbage Patch Kids, and the doll that cries when you squeeze her stomach all packed away in the basement. I never did the Barbie thing because Barbie was always too busy trying to get it on with Ken and didn’t need taking care of. I babysat my way from ages twelve to eighteen, and I only stopped because I went to university and discovered that drinking and guys (unfortunately in that order) were a much more entertaining way to spend Saturday nights.

I’ve been teaching kindergarten for the last four years. Before that, it was grade three, and before that I worked as a nanny in the summers to help pay for university. I sound like I’m reciting my résumé, but it’s just shoving the point across with my typical subtlety about how much I love kids. I love being with them, playing with them, and especially teaching them, and I’ve been hoping for years to finally have one of my own.

What’s the problem, you ask? Not me, or so I hope. Knock on wood that when I do find the right man to have a baby with, I’ll still be able to conceive—Dr. Francine Pascal Reid or no Dr. Francine Pascal Reid. No, for me the problem is finding the right man. Or any man, actually. Well, no, that’s not quite right—I have no problem finding men. For some reason that boggles my mind, men practically flock to me, which is all good if you’re going for quantity and just out for a good time. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I want quality, and that’s where I have had absolutely no luck.

Just yesterday morning, I left my apartment to take part in Darcy and Ethan’s wedding, full of hope that I might have actually found one. I’d only been dating Mike for twenty-six days, and I thought things were progressing well. He’s smart and funny, has a great head of hair, and as far as I can discover, there’s been no history of diabetes or heart problems in his family, which kept him open as a candidate for baby-making. Things had progressed so well that I had plans to jump the gun on my hard-and-fast rule of not sleeping with a man unless I’ve known him for at least a month. Of course, exceptions are made, but usually the head manages to rule the heart and other body parts in these matters. There’s no way I need a black book rivalling Kim Kardasian’s.

I’ve been steadily wading through the pool of eligible bachelors for years, with absolutely no luck. And it’s not like I’m looking for the perfect man—all I want these days is to find one with certain attributes that I would like to pass on to a child. Over the years, I’ve pared my requirements down to the basics: intelligence, relative physical attractiveness, sense of humour, and a family history with few or no unpronounceable illnesses or diseases. Unless I set out to get pregnant by some random man I pick up in a bar (yes, I’m getting desperate and have thought of that countless times, but I like to think it’s a measure of the respect I still have for the male race and myself that I haven’t been able to bring myself to go through with it), nothing seems to be working.

I know very well how these things usually happen: girl meets boy, girl makes boy wait patiently for three years while she sows some wild oats and then agrees to marry him—no, wait, that’s how it was with my sister, Libby. How about girl meets boy and then relentlessly nags him until he proposes? Nope, that’s the story of my friend Brit.

Anyway, I know how it’s supposed to work even though I don’t have many good examples to learn from, especially not my own parents. Until I was fourteen, I lived with Ed, the alcoholic asshole father, and Teresa, the quiet, holier-than-thou, I’ll-just-keep-my-mouth-shut-and-let-my-husband-verbally-abuse-my-daughters kind of mother. And then everything changed when Ed died because he was too dumb not to wait until he got home to start dipping into his bottle of Jim Beam. He screwed up trying to navigate the exit of the parking lot for the Liquor Control Board of Ontario and crashed into the building. He would have been fine actually, had it not been for the heart attack. Everyone said it was the heart attack that caused him to crash into the building, but I don’t believe it. He was a dumb drunk. Good riddance, if you ask me. My mother obviously shared my opinion about him since after she was sure he was dead (a week after the funeral, a more-than-suitable mourning period), she did the whole moth emerging from the chrysalis and became … well, let’s just say the words prim, proper, and self-control around the opposite sex would never describe her.

But you don’t need my family history right now. You just need to understand that I’m romantically challenged.

Things were going well with Mike and me, but because I was a member of the bridal party, I thought twice about bringing a date. No one likes to be stuck eating with strangers while his girlfriend sits at the head table surrounded by friends. Turns out I should have thought three times about bringing him.

The ceremony had just ended, with the priest pronouncing Ethan and Darcy as husband and wife, and the guests had gathered outside in the early June sunshine to heap congratulations on the happy couple. Being part of the bridal party, I was one of the first ones outside. After a couple of minutes looking for Mike in the crowd, I popped back inside the church to see what had happened to him and found much more than I expected. I found Mike—boyfriend of twenty-six days—in the coatroom of the church. Not that this is a bad thing, but the fact that he was performing a sexual act of an extremely intimate nature on the twenty-one-year-old stepdaughter of the matron of honour certainly was. A bad thing, that is. Even though Mike and his new friend were obviously very excited about finding each other, suffice it to say, I wasn’t too thrilled about it.

“Do you mind?” asked the girl in a snotty tone as I stood there staring at my boyfriend doing what he was doing to her. If someone walked in on me in her position, I don’t think I’d take the snotty route. I’d be pretty embarrassed, to tell the truth, and possibly apologetic if the person walking in on us was the girlfriend of the guy. But not this chickie.

“Do you?” I retorted incredulously. “He’s my boyfriend! Or he was.”

I then proceeded to tear a strip off of Mike—actually not really, since I couldn’t get over the shock of my discovery that quickly and because I’m not good at confrontations at all. I did tell him I was taking his name off the present, however. I know, what’s the point, especially since I bought the silly gift, but it’s really difficult to come up with anything pithy when you’re in that situation. I would have really liked to make a few comments about his sexual prowess or size of his member, but since I have no knowledge of the former and I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his pants happened to be fairly sizable, I was left with nothing. So I had no choice but to let them be, barely managing to paste a smile on my face as I left the church and headed to the waiting limousine. I guess the car was waiting for me, because the rest of the wedding party was already inside and the Bentley that Ethan hired to drive him and Darcy had just pulled away.

Once the car started, I turned to Michelle, the matron of honour/stepmother of the boyfriend-stealing tramp I found with Mike. I didn’t know her name—the name of the girl I found with Mike, not the matron of honour. I think it’s something like Mindy or Mandy, or it could be Mambo Betty for all I care. Michelle was sitting in the rear seat across from me with her hand resting on her great lump of a belly. Remember she’s about eight months pregnant, not just lumpish.

You get the picture that I wasn’t having the best of days? Seeing matron of honour Michelle, the laughing, pregnant stepmother of the tramp, lounging in the seat of the limousine with hand resting on her great pregnant belly with the smuggest of smiles—it just pissed me off. I vividly recalled her laughter at my expense earlier. I’m not normally a bitch, but like I said, it had been a bad day.

“Did your stepdaughter ever go to Sunday school?” I asked Michelle, with an innocent expression as the car pulled away from the church.

“Why?” Michelle looked bewildered.

“I would have thought going to Sunday school might have taught her a little respect for the church,” I said conversationally. I couldn’t help but notice that Michelle had kicked her shoes off, and her toes resembled little stumpy sausages. I fervently hoped she wasn’t able to get her shoes back on.

“What? Amelia?”

“Oh, is that her name? I’m sure Mike didn’t know either. Just so you’re up to speed, I just walked in on Mike—who was my boyfriend as of about four minutes ago—going down on her in the coatroom at the church. And unless she stuck a very tiny coat up her who-who, I really think they were in the wrong place to do such a thing. And, sorry, but I really wasn’t impressed with her attitude about being caught in the act, but what can you do? She’s still young.”

Michelle’s smiling face transformed into an “O” of shock. “You saw her what?” she asked in a strangled voice.

“Being a very dirty little girl with my boyfriend. Who isn’t my boyfriend any longer, so she’s welcome to him, but it might have been nice to have a little advance notice.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, I’m pretty serious. I can give you the details if you like. I know she’s wearing pink underwear—I think it might have been a thong, but I can’t be sure since it was dangling off one of her ankles.”

Michelle looked to the other bridesmaids as if asking for help defending her stepdaughter’s honour. I found it interesting no one stepped forward.

“I’m just letting you know what went on. So when she brings him over to you as her new guy, you’ll know how she got him.” I gave her my best and biggest fake smile. “Wow, your ankles are really swollen. Or is that their normal size?” There was a muffled cough from somewhere in the car.

“Could I have the champagne, please?” I asked brightly.

Ari, one of the ushers, held up the chilled bottle. “Why don’t you let me do it, just in case the cork takes somebody’s eye out?” He expertly manoeuvred the cork out with his thumbs. Then he handed the bottle over to me, and I proceeded to take a huge glug out of it. “Not much for sharing, are you, Casey?” he asked me with a wink.

I took another big drink, then another, conscious of the nervous glances of the rest of the wedding party floating around. “I’m a kindergarten teacher,” I told Ari after another mouthful, trying to avoid burping aloud. “I’m all about sharing. Except for champagne or boyfriends.” And that was about the extent of the conversation in the car until we got to the reception.

I like to think I behaved myself during the rest of the evening. I pasted another smile on my face during the endless picture-taking, laughed at the appropriate times during the speeches, and even enjoyed dancing with Ari the usher. I did manage to sneak a piece of cake onto Mike’s chair just as he was sitting down to dessert, which left a lovely buttercream icing smear on his fine ass for the rest of the night, forcing him to keep on his jacket to hide it, when I know he sweats a lot.

Boy, was I wrong about Mike. I can’t get over how wrong. And the worst part is how utterly stupid I felt. I had no idea he was such a fast-moving player. I met him at Second Cup, for goodness sake. Although I did agree to go to dinner with him the same night we met, so maybe that should have told me something. I just thought I was particularly irresistible that day, what with having a good hair day and wearing my lucky unders. I had no clue he’d turn out to be such an ass. He never once apologized either, and I was blown away that he actually stayed at the wedding. He even looked like he was having a good time, before the buttercream icing incident, of course. My night, on the other hand, was pretty much ruined.

You know how sometimes the idea of getting drunk is just the best option? That wedding was a perfect example. I like drinking to begin with—something that I do take care to watch, with the whole father being an alcoholic and such—but there’s something about a wedding that really brings the party animal out in all of us. Maybe it’s the free bar, countless bottles of wine on the table, and numerous champagne toasts. Plus, unless you’re family, there’s a good chance you won’t be seeing these people ever again. In any event, by the time Darcy and Ethan took the floor to sway to “You Look Wonderful Tonight,” I was well on my way to becoming quite shit-faced.

Tell me what you think of me – Reviews!!!

happy catI am one happy cat this morning!!!

I got reviews! And I’m putting them here for everyone to see because I can!!

It might be sad how happy and excited getting a review makes me. I know authors aren’t supposed to read them, but come on!!  Who can resist??

Here’s what I got today for Absinthe!!!

from Two Children and a Migraine

This was such a great fun read.  Although I have to admit I have been missing out on some girls night out lately, I am thankful that I have not ran into the drama that these ladies went through.  Without a doubt this is a great reminder of what can happen when some cocktails are included.  Sometimes it may be good, but more often then not that is not the case!  Those it is a great reminder that secrets will always come out so it is really better not to keep them.

and from Chick Lit Plus

Well. All righty then. This book was…wow. Where to start? This is all positive thinking, by the way! This story was juicy, unpredictable and the ending literally caught me with my mouth hanging open. Though it started just a little slow for me and I wondered if I could get a hang of the narration since all four friends get their chance at the POV, I quickly caught on to each women and was hooked. I really don’t want to say much and give anything away, because I truly was blindsided by the ending. It was, for lack of better words, awesome! Please, go get your copy!

4.5 stars

Plus I got one for Coming Home!

This one is a tough one to write up. I enjoyed the plot and the characters. However, there was a feeling of “fractured” characters. In one moment they are normal and reasonable and the next moment they are off the wall, unbelievable caricatures.
Brenna, one of five sisters, comes home after being gone for 14 years. Her return is instigated by her husband’s betrayal. With nowhere to go, she goes home, even though she has never felt like she has belonged at home and even though she is not sure how her sisters will receive her. Things seem to go fine for the first hours she is home but then, little by little, things go wrong and she finds herself kicked out of one sister’s house and into the house of the sister she has never gotten along with.
Emotions, memories, hurt feelings, all come into play with each of the sisters and their interactions.
Like I said before, the plot was a good one. I did enjoy that. I found myself laughing at some of the sisterly interactions (I am one of four sisters myself so some of these things struck a note with me). However, I would be remiss if I did not also let prospective readers know that there are four very explicit sex scenes. No, I’m not a prude. I just think a reader should know going into a book that this might be a component. I know these particular scenes would keep me from recommending the book to quite a few people to whom I normally recommend books. If you are into reading explicit, raunchy sex scenes, then you won’t mind. But if you’re not into that, I would stay away. Sometimes less is more.
Someone mentioned numerous grammatical errors and typos. I actually didn’t find that many. There are some and I’m sure one more read through by the right person would have found them. They are there and I did notice them but they were not as distracting in this work as in others.

So here’s my plea: reviews are SO important for indie authors. It’s difficult enough to get your book noticed in the sea of amazing authors, and when you finally do, having (positive) reviews on Amazon and Goodreads is so important in helping a reader decide to take a chance on your book. So I’m asking nicely – if you have read one of my books, please please please take the time to write a review for me.  And those who have, and do, THANK YOU.

I even found this if you’re unsure how to go about it

 Customer Review Creation Guidelines

To create a Customer Review, you must have used your account to purchase any item or service on Amazon (free digital content doesn’t qualify toward this requirement).

Tips on creating a great review

  • Include the “why”: The best reviews include not only whether you liked or disliked a product, but also why. Feel free to make comparisons with related products or services you’ve experienced.
  • Be specific: Your review should be relevant to the product or service you’re reviewing and focus on specific features or your experience. For video and image reviews, we recommend that you write a brief introduction.
  • Not too short, not too long: Written reviews should be at least 20 words and are limited to 5,000 words. The ideal length is 75 to 500 words. Video reviews have a 10-minute limit, but we recommend 2 to 5 minutes to keep your audience engaged.
  • Be sincere: We welcome your honest opinion about the product or service. We do not remove reviews because they are critical. We believe all helpful information can inform our customers’ buying decisions.

Thanks to all!!!

Holly xo

 

Top Ten Tuesday – Top Ten Favourite Heroines!

top 10Top Ten Tuesday is a weekly meme, hosted by The Broke and the Bookish, where we get to make bookish lists!!

This week list is Top Ten Heroines from Books!!

In no particular order:

Katniss Everdeen, Hunger Games

Hermoine Granger, Harry Potter series

Elizabeth Bennett, Pride and Prejudice

Anne Shirley, Anne of Green Gables series

Ozma, Wizard of Oz series

Six, Finding Cinderella by Colleen Hoover – I love Sky as well from Finding Hope and Hopeless, but I love Six just a little bit more!

Taggie O’Hara Campbell-Black, Rivals by Jill Cooper – shy, beautiful dyslexic wins the heart of Britain’s biggest rake and reforms him to boot!

Mara Jade, Star Wars novels – I’m not sure if she’s included in the official Star Wars canon now, but Timothy Zahn created a kick-ass character that the Star Wars universe really needed!

Betsey Taylor, UnDead series by MaryJanice Davidson – she’s the queen of the vampires and while she gets a little annoying at times, she’s pretty cool

Casey Samms – Unexpecting by Holly Kerr – Sorry!  Had to included one of mine because Casey is my very favourite

Does anyone else have a terrible time spelling heroine too?

What about you?  Who is your favourite literary heroine?  Any of mine on your list?

 

 

 

 

Absinthe Doesn’t Make the Heart Grow Fonder

Absinthe Doesn't Make the Heart Grow Fonder

Absinthe is available NOW!  Buy yours now and get a free ebook!!!

I’m very, very excited!!  Absinthe Doesn’t Make the Heart Grow Fonder is available NOW in print from Amazon.  Right now!  Before the Feb 17 release date!!

You can buy it NOW!  Right NOW!  Go ahead – click right HERE!

And if you do – if you click right now and buy your copy of Absinthe Doesn’t Make the Heart Grow Fonder and then send me proof that you did – I’ll send you an ebook copy of either Unexpecting or Coming Home!  Today Only!  As a special pre-Valentine Day treat!

Sound good?

Loving your sisters is easy.  Liking them is the hard part.

Loving your sisters is easy. Liking them is the hard part.

Sometimes things don't go according to plan

Sometimes things don’t go according to plan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Four friends head out for a night of dinner, drinks, dancing…more drinking…

Secrets come out

And something bad happens

Absinthe Doesn’t Make the Heart Grow Fonder – available in print now

Pre-order your ecopy now!!

 

Happy Birthday to Me!!

birthday

It’s my Birthday!!

But as a present for you…

Unexpecting is only 99 cents today!!

Sometimes things don't go according to plan

Sometimes things don’t go according to plan

 

Getting what you want doesn’t always go according to plan.
Thirty-five year old kindergarten teacher Casey Samms has always dreamed about having her own baby. Her copy of A Young Woman’s Guide to the Joy of Impending Motherhood is telling her time is running out, and so Casey has been steadily wading through the pool of eligible bachelors for years – with absolutely no luck. Bidding farewell to a cheating boyfriend and to dating in general, Casey decides to jump on board of having a baby the artificial way, even though everyone tries to talk her out of it.
Casey is stubbornly determined to see her dream come true and checks out every man she comes in contact with as a potential donor. Just when she’s beginning to give the word desperate a new meaning, an old boyfriend jumps back into her life. Now all Casey has to do is try to convince him that he is the one to help her become a mother. Or is he?
As Casey prepares to realize her lifelong dream, she is about to get the surprise of her life. And finds out that what is unexpected can often turn out better than anything you can dream about.

Available at Amazon

or buy the original in print Baby! Baby? Baby?! 

 

 

 

 

Monday Musings – Wanting Control

 monday-musings

Musing Mondays is a weekly meme hosted by MizB from Should be Reading that asks you to muse about one of several “bookish” questions… or, you can just ramble on about anything you like that pertains to books! Go ahead–it’s fun!

My Monday Musings haven’t always been on the subject of books.  A lot of time they are; what I’m reading as well as what I’m writing.  I might not follow the guidelines for it, but I like having my own forum to talk about writing and reading.  So here’s this week’s ramble.

Wanting Control for Your Fate as a Writer

Loving your sisters is easy.  Liking them is the hard part.

Loving your sisters is easy. Liking them is the hard part.

I’ve written quite a few posts about self-publishing.  I first published my novel Baby! Baby? Baby?! using a Do-It-Yourself publishing company.  I was idealistic and naive; they were a big company looking for profits.  Never a good fit.  I was lucky enough to have my second Book, Coming Home picked up by Etopia Press, a small independent press focusing on ebooks.  Because of my unhappiness with the DIY company, I’ve re-released Baby! with a new cover and title (Unexpecting)to take control of the book and so far I think it’s a good decision.

Self-publishing is all about control.

To fully understand where I’m coming from in theMaking Friends debate whether to self-pub or not, I have to confess to having an alter-ego: my day job is writing erotic romance novels under the name Anna Ellis.  I have self-published 10 books already and will have 2 more ready by the time this blog is posted.

Holly Kerr can call herself an indie author but Anna Ellis really knows what’s the self-publishing world is about.

And because of this, I’m debating what to do about my next book, Absinthe Doesn’t Make the Heart Grow Fonder.

It is incredibly difficult to get noticed by agents and published.  Yes, it can happen, and does, but the slog to get there is tough and full of rejections.  The feelings of pride and validation when you do get picked up is worth it however.  There’s nothing like it.  But signing away your book to a publisher means giving up your control, and that control can be a heady thing.

bio JossI recently read the biography of Joss Whedon (which I talked about last WWW Wednesday).  Some might be aware that because of his creation of the Buffy universe and numerous other television shows, I revere this man as a god.  He’s it for me.  If I was answering one of those if you could have 5 people living or dead sitting at your table questions, he’d be #1 on me list.

Note to self: that might be an interesting blog post!!

In his biography, Joss Whedon was discussing his decision to think outside the box during the Writer’s strike of 2008? and produce his own webshow – Dr. Horrible’s Sing- Along.  (It’s pretty cool, but I won’t go into it now)  He said a comment that hit home with me.  It’s a long quote and he’s talking about the studio system in Hollywood but the remark “…there is a difference when you can just go ahead and do something.”

That’s what it’s like in self-publishing.  If I want to write a book and publish it, I can.

Of course, I have to make damn sure it’s a good book, properly edited and formatted with a good cover!  And here lies the problem with many books that are self-published –  a lot of writers don’t do that.

But let’s not consider them right now – the few out there that give the rest of us a bad name.  Let’s assume everyone who decides to self-publish is able to produce a professional- quality book with the writing skills to back it up.  The control to be able to do that it is amazing.

You – the author – is solely responsible for the cover, the final edit (after getting it professionally edited, of course), the formatting, the release date, the prices…everything. And it feels really good to do it yourself.

At least for me it does.  So there’s my dilemma – do I want the validation of being published by a traditional publishing company or an indie press or the control of doing it myself?

Stay tuned to find out what I decide to do and if you have an opinion, please let me know!!!

What’s the surprise about Unexpecting?

      Unexpecting 

By Holly Kerr

99 cents for a limited time!

 

Unexpecting

E-book Available at Amazon!

***** 5 stars!

“This was a fun story to read. I could not put it down. I didn’t want to put it down. It was a quick, easy, quirky read. I can’t decide who I liked best in this book. All of the characters are people I would want as my friends, except maybe for Terri (with an i).
I will definitely read any book created by Ms. Kerr.”

Baby! Baby? Baby?!

Baby! Baby? Baby?!

(formerly Baby! Baby? Baby?! – new cover, new title, same fun story!)