“Watch RWISA Write Month-long-blog-tour! Featured author today is Amy Reece. #RRBC #RRBC_RWISA

RWISA AMY REECE

Rave Writers – International Society Of Authors (RWISA)

August is Watch RWISA Write month. We will showcase a different author each day. Today, we celebrate author Amy Reece.

Let’s learn a little more about Amy Reece

Hi! My name is Amy Reece and I live in Albuquerque, NM with my incredible husband and two ridiculous mutts, Greta and Sodapop. When I’m not writing, I teach high school English and social studies. I’m a voracious reader and dream of becoming a world traveler. I’m hoping to need many research trips for future writing projects. I write YA and have a 4 book series published with Limitless Publishing.

CRAZY CAT LADY

by Amy Reece

CAT SITTER NEEDED

$50 CASH—-One Night ONLY

Apply in Person

653 Silverwood Ln Apt B

Rita looked from the folded newspaper to the small adobe duplex in front of her. Well, here goes. My chances of getting murdered or sold into a sex trafficking ring are pretty good, but I need the fifty bucks. Need might be overstating it, but she wanted to go to the concert and she didn’t have the money for the tickets. Her meager paycheck from her work-study job didn’t stretch much farther than covering the bare essentials. If she wanted any fun money, she had to find other ways to acquire it. She’d done it all: research studies, selling her plasma, modeling for art studio classes. Answering a jinky ad in the college newspaper was nothing. She had left a note in her dorm room telling her slumbering roommate where she was, so at the very least maybe they’d be able to recover her body. She shook off the dark thoughts and approached the house.

A tall, thin elderly woman answered the door. ‘‘Yes? How can I help you?’’

Rita held up the ad. ‘‘I’m here about the cat sitting job.’’

‘‘Oh, my dear, yes. Well, come in.’’ She opened the screen door and stood back to allow Rita to enter.

The living room smelled musty but looked tidy, with sagging, old-fashioned furniture covered with bright, hand-crocheted afghans and doilies. Several cats raised their heads from where they snoozed on the cushions, then lowered them disinterestedly. A tray with a flowered china teapot and matching cups was set on the coffee table.

‘‘Have a seat and I’ll pour you a cup of nice hot tea. It’s so chilly out this evening, isn’t it?’’

Rita sat and accepted the cup of steaming tea while she frowned at the woman. ‘‘Were you expecting someone else?’’

‘‘Oh, no,’’ the woman said breezily. ‘‘I was expecting you.’’ She smiled as she sipped her tea. ‘‘Or someone like you. I put the ad in the paper and I knew someone would be along presently.’’ More cats of every color had wandered into the room. There had to be nearly fifteen cats winding their way around her feet, perching on the back of her chair, and leaping into her lap.

‘‘Oh.’’ Rita nodded dumbly and fumbled with the handle of the delicate cup, spilling tea into the saucer. ‘‘So, when exactly do you need the cat sitter?’’

‘‘Well, tonight, of course. I need to go visit my sister in Santa Fe. I’ll be back soon after breakfast tomorrow. Now, let me show you where I keep their food.’’ She reached forward to set her cup on the table.

‘‘But, but,’’ sputtered Rita, ‘‘don’t you want to know about me? About my qualifications?’’

The woman laughed lightly. ‘‘It’s only feeding a few cats, dear. It’s not rocket science. Come along.’’ She stood, shooing the cats from her lap, and led the way into the kitchen. ‘‘The dishes are here.’’ She pointed to a row of small ceramic bowls lining a dish drain. ‘‘And the food is in this cabinet. They like to eat around nine and then you can wash up.’’

‘‘Okay.’’ Rita nodded and counted the bowls. There were only six. ‘‘Do they take turns eating? Should I refill the bowls after the first group eats?’’

‘‘I think you’ll find one round is more than enough. Most of these are ghost cats, of course. Poor dears.’’

Rita stared at her blankly. ‘‘Ghost cats?’’

‘‘Yes. They seem to be drawn to me. They just can’t move on quite yet. They’re not like dogs, you know.’’

Rita didn’t know. In fact, the only thing she was sure of was that this woman was obviously insane. Ghost cats? What the hell? But fifty bucks was fifty bucks, and if she had to placate a crazy woman to get it, she was glad to. ‘‘Great. No problem.’’

‘‘Now, feel free to help yourself to anything if you get a little peckish.’’ She led the way back to the living room, where she picked up a small, old-fashioned train case Rita hadn’t noticed before. ‘‘Be sure to lock up after me. Have a good night and I’ll see you early tomorrow.’’

Rita stood in the middle of the living room and watched her leave. ‘‘Wait! How do I—-’’ she wrenched the door open to ask her final question, but the woman was gone. She stepped onto the porch and looked upon and down the street, noticing red taillights at the stop sign at the far end. She must have had a cab or an Uber waiting. She shrugged and closed the door, locking it as instructed. Then she turned to address the room. ‘‘Well, cats and kittens, I guess it’s just us for the rest of the night. At least she keeps this place clean. With this many of you it could really reek.’’ She’d eaten an early dinner at the cafeteria so she wasn’t hungry. The remote was on a side table, so she grabbed it up and found a cat-free cushion to sit on. The woman didn’t have cable, but Rita managed to find a rerun of a show she enjoyed and sat back to while away the hours until feeding time. The cats, for the most part, minded their own business and left her alone. A few finally crept close enough to sniff her, but then stalked away. She’d never been much of a cat person, so she took no offense. Feeding time went off without a hitch and the woman had been correct: the six bowls were more than enough. Cats came and nibbled, but none cleaned out their bowls. Many of the cats simply came and stared at the food without touching it. Weird. Maybe they are ghost cats.

She got hungry around midnight, but found nothing but a few stale crackers in the cabinet. She took them with her to the couch, pulled one of the crocheted afghans over her legs, and fell asleep watching an infomercial.

The key in the lock woke her the next morning. She sat, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

‘‘Good morning! I’m sorry I woke you. How did everything go last night?’’ The woman set her train case by the door as she walked in.

‘‘Um, fine. Yeah, everything went great.’’

‘‘Oh, good.’’ She rummaged in her purse for her checkbook and a pen. ‘‘Now, I’ll let you fill in your name. Here you go.’’ She handed her the check.

Rita glanced down at it, noting the spindly handwriting, but satisfied that it was indeed for fifty dollars. Sweet. Easy money. She sat up and folded the afghan and laid it across the back of the sofa. ‘‘Thanks. Well, have a nice day.’’ She waved awkwardly as she let herself out of the apartment. I’ll just swing by the bank and cash this, then stop to buy the concert tickets on my way home.

‘‘Can I help you?’’ The voice came from the house next door. ‘‘What are you doing?’’

‘‘Huh?’’ Rita turned as the woman marched down her front path to confront her.

‘‘Were you in that apartment? How did you get in? That door is supposed to be locked! Oh, I’m going to kill my husband! He never checks!’’

‘‘Excuse me?’’

‘‘What were you doing in there?’’

‘‘No-nothing! I mean, I was watching that lady’s cats for her.’’ She realized she’d never asked the woman’s name. ‘‘She paid me. See?’’ She held up the check for the other woman.

The woman glanced at the check and frowned. ‘‘I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you better get out of here before I call the cops!’’

‘‘What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything wrong! I answered an ad in the paper to come and watch that lady’s cats for the night. She paid me fifty dollars. See?’’ She showed the check to the woman again.

The woman snatched the check from her hand. ‘‘Nobody lives there! The woman with all the cats died two years ago! We’ve had a heck of a time getting renters to stay because they swear it’s haunted or some nonsense! Now, if you’re not here about renting the place then I’m going to ask you to leave. Now. Before I call the police.’’ She glanced down at the check, laughed briefly, and handed it back to Rita.

Rita took the check and looked at it to see what could have made the woman laugh. Her eyes widened as she saw it was not a check at all; it was nothing more than a piece of torn newsprint. It fluttered to the ground as she ran, the woman’s laughter echoing behind her.

***

Contact   via:

Twitter:  @AReeceAuthor

Blog/Website:

Website: Amy Reece Author 

Blog:  Amy Reece

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH “RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author: AMY REECE

AMY REECE AUTHOR PAGE RWISA

BOOK REVIEW: “Panama” By C.S Boyack.

BOOK REVIEW: Panama by C.S Boyack.

MEET THE AUTHOR:

BOOK REVIEW BIO PICTURE OF C S BOYACK

I was born in a town called Elko, Nevada. I like to tell everyone I was born in a small town in the 1940s. I’m not quite that old, but Elko has always been a little behind the times. This gives me a unique perspective of earlier times, and other ways of getting by. Some of this bleeds through into my fiction.

I moved to Idaho right after the turn of the century, and never looked back. My writing career was born here, with access to other writers and critique groups I jumped in with both feet.

I like to write about things that have something unusual. My works are in the realm of science fiction, paranormal, and fantasy. The goal is to entertain you for a few hours. I hope you enjoy the ride.

BOOK REVIEW COVER PANAMA BY CS BOYACK

BLURB:

Ethan and Coop are sent to the construction zone along the Panama Canal. They have some experience with strange phenomenon, but nothing prepared them for this.

They are faced with civil war, Carlist pretenders to the thrones of France and Spain, an invading Spanish army, and another from Hell itself. They’ll be lucky to survive, let alone take care of anything while they’re down there.

This story is based upon the construction of the canal, Panamanian independence, international cooperation, and a few celebrity cameos. Even the magic takes on an international flavor.

Ghosts and Voodoo are one thing, but they have no idea what waits along the isthmus.

MY REVIEW: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟An utterly Captivating reading experience!

I have read and reviewed another book by this talented author, and was consequently eager to begin this work. This is a marvelous blend of genres. Author C.S Boyack possesses that rare talent of seamlessly blending Historical fact and entertaining fiction together to create a story that is as informative as it is entertaining. I ask no more than that from an author. I was most assuredly captured by rich and divergent characters, so skillfully crafted that they breathed on the page.

Author Boyack has a unique style. He captured me immediately with the introduction of the Ghost whisperer, Ethan, and his delightfully different cohort,  witchdoctor in the making that is Coop.

Many reviewers have covered the basis of the plot, which to say the least is threaded together with the skill of a spider spinning a sparkling web.

This authors’ ability to write wonderful dialogue, combined with a depth of characterization that brings the sounds, scents and imagery into the readers mind, is inspired. There is humor here, and it appears throughout this book, with a deft and certain touch that made me smile and take these diverse characters to my heart.

A stunning combination of fact, mystery, and the supernatural, ensure that this work will linger in my memory and have me seeking more of Author C.S Boyacks’ work.

I can’t recommend this book highly enough.

talent-spotter-images-links-for-liza-oconnor

PURCHASE “PANAMA” ON AMAZON.COM

C.S BOYACK AUTHOR PAGE on AMAZON.COM

Find C S BOYACK ON TWITTER

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“Arrival” Excerpt 2. My work-‘Under Construction’. A Paranormal Thriller.

Hello, and thanks for joining me again. I will be sharing one of my latest projects here with you each week. The installments are brief. I do hope you enjoy them.

If you like what you read, you can catch up with all previous excerpts here:

PREVIOUS EXCERPTS FROM ARRIVAL … HERE

 

ARRIVAL

By

S. Burke

Chapter 1 … Excerpt 2.

MIND CONTROL FOR TO BE CONTINUED PAGE ARRIVAL.

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Chapter 1 … Excerpt 2.

 

 

Diego rested his hand on the Glock, seeking comfort in the unrelentingly cold hardness of the metal.

He checked the CCTV image; uncertain if it were a trick of his mind that permitted him to visualize the shapes that waited there, as friend, and not foe.

Two people stood unmoving, both concealed by the dark hoodies that covered their heads and faces so successfully. The stance of one was tantalizingly familiar; yet Diego’s brain recognized it as an impossibility, even as the thought formed. ‘No … impossible!  No, no, no,  you’re dead’

He clicked the intercom open, and was not surprised when his voice quavered as he spoke, “What?”

“That’s no way to greet an old friend, Chicano!

“Santa Madre de Dios! No! I saw you die.”

The one who had spoken, raised both hands, then, slowly and with long-tapered fingers’, pushed back the hoodie. The perfect features worked themselves into a high-powered smile. “I decided that death was supremely overrated, Chicano! You know how I am when I make up my mind. Now open the fucking door, I need a drink!”

Diego Ortega made his choice, and with a hand that shook, he deactivated the explosive charge, his first-line of defense.  He opened the door; even as he clicked off the safety on the Glock, and stood ready to use it at point blank range if necessary.

“Weapons on the table. Both of you, now!” He said, surprising himself that he could speak at all.

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.” The un-hooded one replied, placing another Glock on the table.

“You!” Diego pointed his weapon at the shorter of the two, “The weapon, now!”

The second person slowly moved their right hand, and pulled a gun from beneath the hoodie. It was carefully laid alongside his companions.

Diego placed his gun barely inches from the face of the one he recognized, “The back-up. On the table. Make it fast.”

“Good call! So you do remember?” The left ankle was quickly revealed and a lethal knife was quickly removed from its sheath, to join the guns on the table.

“Hands behind you. Kneel on the floor.”

“You,” he pointed the gun at the second one, “Down.”

The two threats to his sanity were now cuffed. “Tell me what you want. Make it fast.”

“I want a drink, Chicano. You know what I like.”

“Still drinking Buds?” Diego smiled stiffly as he asked.

“I’ve never touched beer in my life. Nice try, Chicano. But no cigar! You disappoint me; I expected your wits to have remained sharper than this. I have my preferred drink of choice in my backpack; unless you happen to have a Twelve-year-old single malt scotch available?”

Diego heard clearly, “That is hardly a secret. You’ll need much more to convince me that you are who you appear to be. Much, more.”

“You whisper ‘Ti Amo’ when you orgasm.”

“I do that with anyone that satisfies me.”

“I’m tired of this bullshit, Chicano! You ask the damned questions. I want a drink while I wait.”

Diego was wavering, but held the gun ready. He racked his memory banks for something unique to his tormentor. “What did your mother say to you just before she died?”

The tormentor glared at him, not speaking, for a long, cold, moment. Then the words erupted like poisonous sores spewing puss.  “She said, ‘You were always the waste of a perfectly good fuck!’ Just before I shot her.”

Diego stood motionless for what felt an eternity, then, with tears pouring from his still disbelieving eyes, he moved behind the visitors and removed the cuffs.

“Querida. Mi amor preciouso!” He pulled the woman into his arms.

She laughed delightedly and kissed him. “Your accent thickens whenever you are passionate or afraid. Which is it now? ”

Diego looked in her green eyes, as his memories threatened to spiral out of control, “A mixture of both, Elizabeth. We need to talk. I have company coming, soon now. We will talk later.”

He turned his attention to her companion once more, “Your name?”

“His name is Javier.”

“Can he not speak for himself, Elizabeth?”

“No … he cannot. The Breed removed his tongue.”

Diego looked at the younger man, “I’m so sorry.”

” Why did they allow him to live? They usually complete the butchering process.”

The woman looked across at the young man. They shared an unspoken moment.

“It will take time to explain, Diego.”The woman looked into his eyes for a long moment. “These people you are expecting … . Do you trust them with our lives, Diego?”

To Be Continued …

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome to my new work ‘under construction’ “Arrival” A Paranormal Thriller. An excerpt will be featured each week.

Welcome to my new work in progress! “Arrival” A Paranormal Thriller.

MIND CONTROL FOR TO BE CONTINUED PAGE ARRIVAL.

I will be featuring an excerpt from “ARRIVAL” my latest work (In progress)  each week. I have listed this as a paranormal/thriller. I have yet to decide if I should add Dystopian to that genre list.

Your thoughts and comments would be greatly appreciated.

Here we go! (No synopsis)

CHAPTER 1 Excerpt 1.

“Arrival” by Suzanne Burke

The blood was pooling now; the pools becoming rapidly drying rivers in the oppressive heat of early morning.

It caked the whitewashed walls in grotesque patterns, like Picasso on a bender.

The team moved softy, unaffected by the stench of death. As ordered, they were sending  ‘activation’ messages to those of the ‘Breed’ that stood  watching the carnage without expression.

The other onlookers, the ‘Nontells’ were deemed irrelevant. As always they would do as instructed; unaware, unafraid, robbed of free thought.

Diago Ortega was a Nontell. He watched the Breed team carefully, fascinated as always with the teamwork without words that they excelled at. The poetry of movement between them was a beautiful thing to behold. His brain took a snapshot of the moment, storing it in his photographic memory along with the rest of the horror.

It was only when his own part in this nightmarish scenario was played out that he would stop long enough to reflect. For now the bodies were still warm to the touch; death had not yet visited for long. Dismemberment was carried out in routine order. Diago had a fleeting gratitude that his team did not need to decapitate the body. Taking the limbs was sickening enough.

His face reflected no horror. For he had witnessed far worse.

Why did the the Breed insist that all Nontells leave the room once forensics were underway? Why did the Breed always clean the gore themselves, when they had an army of Nontells to do it? It made no sense.

Why indeed were the ‘Breed’ at all times,the last ones to remain on the scene, and the first to arrive?

Diago tried unsuccessfully to stem the tide of his suspicions. The ‘Breed’ could read his thoughts, he was certain of it; all that kept him safe was their egomaniacal assumption that a ‘Nontell’ would have no thoughts worthy of reading.

He sat. He pulled a beer from the ice-box and drank it down fast; it cleared the bitterness from his palate … for a time. Alcoholism was rampant within the Nontell enclaves; it had been since the ‘Arrival’; in fact, the Breed encouraged it. It was the one thing that the Nontells were permitted to excel at.

Diago remembered well the days before ‘Arrival’. Those days before were forbidden to recall, never to be spoken of. The Breed had succeeded overwhelmingly well in quelling their humanity. But not for all. Not for him.

The memory played out in the theater of his mind,  sweet, sweet, memory … of the days when laughter was spontaneous, tears were permitted, and joy was anticipated with delight. Days of sunshine and superman, dogs and children, doughnuts and coffee.

Years of striving to attain a place. Working, long, discouraging, deadly hours; holding on desperately for those times of returning home, to the love of a partner who valued your contribution to their world.

‘Arrival’ had irreversibly altered that sacred pattern.

The ‘Breed-Master’ had declared the days before “Arrival” as a pestilence to be diminished and swept from memory.

It was so ordered.

Diago Ortega chose to disobey.

As did the others …  they would arrive soon.

The other Nontells, the ones with enough humanity remaining to dare to be different; to question, to seek the truth … and. perhaps more importantly, to locate within themselves the courage it would take to act on what they discovered. Small pockets of them had begun forming, always alert and always at risk.

Diago waited,  allowing his thoughts to drift, permitting visions of yesterdays to enter once more.  They blazed with unfettered passion, he could feel the heat as he suffered again in the light.

The loud pounding on the door, startled him. He jumped up, spilling the contents of his beer over an already dirty shirt. He glanced around quickly as if a method of escape would magically appear, it did not … . He located and grabbed his old gun, tucking the Glock firmly in the waistband of his jeans. The pounding continued and his heartbeat accelerated, all his focus now on that door.

They others had a prearranged signal and this wasn’t it.

To be continued….

I do hope you enjoyed this excerpt. Those that read this, will be the first to do so.

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#RRBC is THE place to be! Lets ROCK in this Writers’ Conference! Join in this amazing opportunity to share and learn.

Rave Reviews Book Club Writers’ Conference & Book Expo! Registrations close NOVEMBER 23rd 2016.

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#RRBC is THE place to be! Join in this amazing opportunity to share and learn. Treat yourself to the Christmas gift that just keeps on giving!

Are you a Writer, Editor, Cover designer or Publicist; a Publisher or Blogger, or a an avid Reader dedicated to finding and reading a selection of the best the online world has to offer? The RRBC WRITERS’ CONFERENCE & BOOK EXPO has something for everyone!

If you checked any of the above then this post is pure gold!

There is an Exciting, ground breaking Conference on its way … DON’T miss the opportunity to take part in just some or all of the following opportunities!

RRBC WRITERS’ CONFERENCE & BOOK EXPO

 FEATURES: Take a look at these amazing opportunities to participate!  Then register for the Conference by NOVEMBER 23rd with YOUR own Booth/Books/Workshop.

 Literary Lingo 101

Marketing 101

Blogging for Success

Editors: Sniffing Out the Right One

Why Your Brand Is Important

Indie Vs Traditional

Formatting Made Easy

Your Best Self-Promotion Tool: Promoting Others

Building Your Author Platform

Writing the Perfect Book Review

Book Blurbs Dos & Don’ts

Social Media Dos & Don’ts

Writing in the Senior Season

Why You Should Never Refuse a Live Media Interview

Cover Design (FREE Session)

*Conference Dates:  December 1st thru 3rd

*Registration Deadline:  November 23rd

Registration Link:  https://rrbcwritersconferencebookexpo.wordpress.com/registration-general-information/register-now/

 Pricing Link:  https://rrbcwritersconferencebookexpo.wordpress.c/registration-general-information/registration-packages-pricing/

NON-MEMBERS:
Vendor Booth Rental – $75/per table
Book Listing (linked title/cover/combination) – $5.00/ea.

REGULAR PRICING (Sept. 16 – Nov. 23, 2016):
MEMBERS:
Author/Vendor Booth Rental – $75/per table
Book Listing (linked title/cover combination) – $5.00/ea

NON-MEMBERS:
Vendor Booth Rental – $100/per table
Book Listing (linked title/cover combination) – $5.00/ea

Sounds fabulous doesn’t it? So don’t hesitate, to participate!

REGISTER NOW!

 

 

 

 

 

Book Review: ‘A Perilous Thirst’ by Rhani D’Chae.

Meet Rhani D’Chae.IMAGE RHANI D'CHAE

Rhani D’Chae is a visually disabled writer who was born and raised in Tacoma, WA. Because of her failing eyesight, she no longer reads as much as she used to, but she does enjoy falling into the worlds created by other Indie authors as often as her vision will allow. Shadow of the Drill is her first published novel, and is the first in a series that revolves around an unrepentant enforcer and the violent life that he leads.

She enjoys chatting with readers and fellow writers via Social Media sites, and loves getting comments and other input from those who have read her work. She is on Facebook, and also on Twitter, @rhanidchae. Also, if you have the time, please stop by her blog: rhanidchae.wordpress.com.

BOOK BLURB

A short story about a gay vampire in the early days of the AIDS epidemic

 

MY BOOK REVIEW 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 A Perilous Thirst by Rhani D’Chae.

 

book-cover-a-perilous-thirst-by-rhani-dchae

 

Having read and enjoyed this author’s previous work ‘Shadow of the Drill’  I was more than a little curious to see how she handled the Paranormal genre. I am not a fan of Vampire’s, with the exception of Anne Rice’s classic Le Stat series. So I read this purely out of my prior knowledge and enjoyment of this authors work.

The first person narrative is difficult to pull off successfully, some authors tend to preach rather than invite you in to their world through the mind of their character.

This author doesn’t make that mistake. It took only a few minutes before I was caught up in the story. I was captured by the need to learn more about this Vampire, this intriguing, brutally honest, and yet somehow intensely vulnerable defiance of all things human.

This author creates empathy, a difficult and often overlooked skill in the short story genre. She paints the canvas with rich color, and dark shadow, allowing us to visualize this creature of the night clearly. We are made the confessional for his thoughts and feelings, we are invited to understand his inability to love. Ultimately we are invited to sit in judgement, and render a verdict on his desire to continue an existence devoid of hope.

Author Rhani D’Chae has a gifted pen. Her writing inspires thought and characterizes pain.

I will seek out more of her work, because of that gift.

I no longer care about the ‘other’ sparkling depictions of Vampire’s  for this one has me converted. Many reviewers have asked for more of this story. I found that surprising in some ways. For me this tale is complete, and its shortness only adds to the intensity.

Talent Spotter images links for Liza Oconnor

 Purchase ‘A Perilous Thirst’ here on Amazon.

Visit Rhani D’Chae’s Author Page on Amazon here.

Purchase ‘Shadow of The Drill’ here on Amazon

Follow Rhani D’Chae here on TWITTER @rhanidchae

 

 

Presenting: Rave Reviews Book Club’s “SPOTLIGHT ” Author Blog Tour! Please, welcome my guest: Author A.M. Manay.

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Hello everyone. I’m so delighted to have the opportunity to take part in this Blog Tour as a host. My guest today is Author A.M. Manay.

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Author: A. M. MANAY

In addition to her work as an award-winning indie author of supernatural new adult fantasy, A.M. Manay is a former inner-city chemistry teacher, a singer, a yoga enthusiast, and a mother through domestic open adoption. She has a passion for increasing diversity in popular culture and for strong heroines who stand up for themselves, make their own decisions, and don’t depend on romance as their reason for being.

Author A.M. Mannay has written a marvelous guest post that will assist everyone in learning how to create fabulous images for all their Promotional needs.

“Get Your Design On” by A.M. Manay

As my fellow members of Rave Reviews Book Club have likely noticed, I have developed a penchant for creating twitter graphics for my fellow writers.  Some of you have asked me how I do it, so I’ve decided to share a few of my tips and tricks for getting your design on.

I primarily use Canva.  This is a web-based software that has both free and pay versions that are pretty easy to learn how to use if you’re reasonably comfortable using a computer.  They have a library of free art as well as stock photos available for $1 each, which I think you’ll agree is quite a good deal.  They have a number of fonts and other elements, and you can make your work as simple or complex as your skill and time allow.  They have many pre-sized templates for various marketing and social media uses, but they can also do custom sizes, like you might need for, say, a Createspace paperback cover file.

Here are the basics:

1) Sign up for a free account.  Choose “Create a Design,” then “Twitter Post.”

2) Click on “Uploads.”  Then, upload your book cover as a jpeg file. You then click on your cover and place it on the template.  You can change the size of the cover as well, or rotate it.

3) If you have your own photo you want to use as background, upload that as well.  If not, choose a color under “Backgrounds” or click “Elements” then “Free Photos” to choose a photo.

4) You can then click on any image you’ve placed and resize, crop, move back or forward, or apply a filter or transparency to enhance the look.

5) Click on “Text” to insert text.  You can change the font, color, and transparency of the text to make it readable and eye-catching.  If your text is hard to read, try blurring the background image slightly under “Advanced Options” in the “Filter” menu.  Or you can go to “Elements” and insert a shape to go behind your text.  You can change the color of the shape and even make the shape partly transparent so your background image can still be seen.

6) When you are happy with your graphic, save it and download as a jpeg.  You can then attach the file to your tweets.

We learn by doing, so I would encourage you to play around with it if you have the time.  I find my tweets get much better response when they include an eye-catching, attractive image.  Or you can just hire me to do it for you.  😉  Do you have any questions about how to get your design on?  Any tips of your own to share?

BOOKS By A.M.MANAY.

books-for-spotlight-book-1books-for-spotlight-book-2books-for-spotlight-book-3

Here for your enjoyment are just a small sample of what A.M. Manay has created as part of her SERVICES offered on her Author Site.

A small sample of A.M.Manay’s Twitter Graphics for your enjoyment!

SAMPLE TWITTER GRAPHICS!

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Purchase ‘She Lights Up The Dark’ HERE on Amazon

A.M.Manay Amazon author page.

Website: Author site

Blog: http://ammanaywrites.blogspot.com/

email: author@ammanay.net

Facebook: facebook.com/ammanaywrites

Twitter: @ammanay

Instagram: instagram.com/a.m.manay

Fan email list  November’s Newshttp://eepurl.com/bzCa9r

Do you have a question for my guest? Please, ask away.

I hope you enjoyed stopping by. I know I enjoyed hosting this diverse and multi-talented Author.

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