If you didn't know already, I'm celebrating the upcoming release of my second publication, a ya paranormal anthology in collaboration with nine other authors entitled, Strange and Lovely.
If you're feeling anxious to pre-order Strange and Lovely to take advantage of our pre-order sales price, by all means, go with that feeling!
Why would pre-orders be so important you might ask? Fabulous question. LOL...allow me to explain.
Basically getting ranked at a higher level on amazon gets you noticed, and the way to get highly ranked is to have a huge number of copies sold within a 24 hour time frame so when we have a ton of pre-orders we are able to place those orders on the release date and shoot for a best seller ranking.
Very formulaic, but it never would have occurred to me to pre-order a book a few years back without knowing how it benefited the author. Here is the pre-order info. Thanks for always being so supportive.
"Mermaids, changelings, and ghosts...oh my!
The Authors of Strange and Lovely: Paranormal Tales of Thrills and Romance, are excited to announce their YA paranormal anthology, Strange and Lovely, is now available for pre-order for both paperback and eBook formats (Kindle). Pre-order your copy and enjoy the limited time pre-order sales price!
Please be sure to enter your email address in the space provided during checkout, especially if pre-ordering an ebook.
If you don't own a kindle, you can easily download the Kindle Cloud Reader for your computer for free. Here is a great tutorial for downloading the app on your computer.
We thank you for your continued support and constant love.
The Authors of Strange and Lovely"
Thanks for taking the time to read such a long email, and if you're not sure whether or not Strange and Lovely is the book for you, here is a little teaser from my short story in the anthology to give you an idea of what to expect.
My Fair Assassin by C. J. Anaya
Having someone tell you they’ve come to end your pathetic existence is probably an uncommon occurrence. I can’t imagine that anyone intent on murder would have the decency to pause long enough to look their victim in the eye, state their mission and purpose, and with very little feeling, explain that the end result of their victim’s death will benefit an entire race.
Then again, what do I know?
There’s always the slim chance that plenty of killers are far more civil seconds before committing such a depraved act, but how would any of us ever be privy to those morbid details when the victims never live to share said details?
I knew I’d never live long enough to share mine.
The well-muscled warrior standing several feet in front of me had made that abundantly clear. I studied him intently, deciding it would be best to memorize every inch of him in case I managed to escape and succeeded in describing my would-be assassin to the local authorities.
Right! My need to drink in his image had absolutely nothing to do with his six-foot frame, broad shoulders, sharp, chiseled features, and flawless, crystal-blue orbs framed by a sturdy brow.
Weren’t murderers supposed to be ugly, unkempt psychos? This guy was a carbon copy of most of the Abercrombie models I lived to drool over. He had an otherworldly look and feel to him, and his clothing appeared to be made out of some kind of forest-green leather. His hands were gloved up to his knuckles, and his skin let off a golden, florescent glow.
I might have attributed his all-too-perfect tan to the San Diego weather, but I doubted other men in the vicinity were capable of making their skin glitter slightly whenever the sun’s rays kissed them. I didn’t think someone as imposing as this guy would have spent time throwing gold body glitter all over himself, but I couldn’t figure out what else he’d done to get his skin to shimmer like that. He looked like a warm summer evening, and smelled like the earth after a spring rain.
His hair was shoulder-length, shiny, and lightning white. Not the kind of graying white you might find on your local senior citizen, but the kind that looks like heaven.
His movements as he studied me and my dingy apartment were stiff and watchful. His expression was that of guarded curiosity, and when my cat, Nala, made a small whining noise from my bedroom down the hall, his stance came to attention and his arm muscles went taut as he withdrew a small dagger from a sheath at his waist.
Honestly, where had this guy come from, and why weren’t we dating?
Oh, yeah. He was here to kill me.