Working on a new book

I already have the sequel to Fuzzy Business written, but it needs to be edited and revised.  It will probably have to wait til next year to be published.  Until I get the help I’m waiting for on that front, I’m working on both promoting Fuzzy Business and writing my own sorta-epic fantasy novel.  I came up with the concept for it years ago, and thanks to my husband, have finally hashed out a refurbished outline.  I’m only a few chapters in, but it’s going swimmingly!

Are there any fantasy novel faux-pas you think I need to avoid?


Been busting my buns with local marketing strategies, while trying not to spend too much money on them.  Looks like I’ve already sold 27 copies of my book!  Not bad for the first month, especially for an “unknown” author like myself.  Spread the word and keep it up, fans! Thank you!

Addition to Text

After some suggestions from people saying a certain part of the book had a weak point, I added a few paragraphs, hoping to improve upon it.  Here is an excerpt from one of the additions I made, for those of you who already own the book.  Think of it like a second edition edit.  This happens shortly after John kidnaps Miara. 


“Well, you’re calmer than I am,” he said accusingly. “I don’t know how to go about this, exactly. I was trained to be a criminal, not to catch one.”

My calm was mostly a façade, but even that was short-lived, when suddenly a car side-swiped us on the highway.  John tried to swerve to avoid it as soon as it got close, but it scraped along the side of the car anyway.  He somehow managed to keep the car from not flying through the guard rail and got back into the slow lane, only to have the same car, a black Dodge Charger, fly into the lane in front of us and do a brake check in the middle of the highway.  I screamed and braced my arms against the dash board, while John slammed on his brakes.

If there had been any cars immediately behind us, we would undoubtedly caused a massive pile-up.  Fortune was somehow on John’s side, though, and he managed to brake quickly and swerve around the left hand side of the Charger and pressed the gas pedal to the floor.  I grunted as I was slammed back against the seat.

“Fuckers.  You’re not catching me yet,” he muttered.  I had the feeling he knew who was driving the Charger.  He sped off and zig-zagged between cars, the Charger catching up to our heels.  John proved he could drive the hell out of that piece of shit Geo when he swerved around an eighteen-wheeler and flew down the off ramp just on the other side, barely braking at the stop sign at the end.

I tried to catch my breath as he sped down the street, driving up and down the side roads of a residential area for a few minutes before heading back up to the main road and back to the highway.  No black Charger was in sight.

“Sorry,” he said as we got up to the speed of traffic again.  “I told you they were after me.  They want me to shut up and take the fall.  But I’m not going to do it.”