Showing posts with label C.A. Szarek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label C.A. Szarek. Show all posts

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Do signings sell books?

By C.Z Szarek (Guest Blogger)

Most authors are pretty introverted. I mean, think about it: We sit behind a computer screen and type words. Form sentences, then paragraphs, which slowly work themselves into blocks of text, pages, chapters and a STORY! 
 
We’re up in our own heads (for the most part) creating a kick a$$ story (we hope anyway).

So it almost makes sense that most authors aren’t around people—other than the occasional family member—all that much.

For these introverted authors, the idea of a book signing, a live, actual signing, can be terrifying. Daunting. Even petrifying.

I’m an extrovert, so they excite me more than anything else. 
 
I will talk to anyone (hubs gets irritated with me because I often have no “don’t talk to strangers” button—or on switch) but I very MUCH enjoy talking to people, ESPECIALLY readers.

So, book signings are a BLAST to me.

But…do they sell books?

Authors I’ve talked to feel differently pretty much across the board about signings. Some authors love them, and some dread them. Some of my author friends think so, and others feel they’re “a waste of time.”

Of course, things like location, and details such as, the number of authors signing, who the authors are (A-list, Mid-list, Indie, No-list) might make all the difference. Well, it likely does make all the difference. 
 
Readers today are a little different today than they were 30, even 20 years ago. There was a time when even I as a young reader didn’t think about or wonder about the author of the book all that much. I just wanted—and sought—a good story.

With the advances of technology—social media in particular—I find that I am more curious about the authors I like to read. 
 
Why? 
 
They are more ACCESSIBLE. And THAT is awesome.

Now authors have Facebook pages where you can like and/or follow. Twitter where you can tweet LIVE, and often times, get a response! 
 
We have blogs, websites, emails. It’s all out there, in the public eye, where we encourage our readers to find us. Follow us, keep in contact with us!

Well, for those introverted authors, this is the easy way, because the computer is still there as a shield.

Book signings serve the same purpose, in a different way. CONTACT with readers. Face-to-face, live, in-person (in-your-face, if you will) CONTACT with people who actually read.

The huge events with a lot of headliners always draw people. So, I personally like to piggyback off the famous people (LOL. Because I am most-certainly not famous. But…it’s a yet, mark my words). 
 
Even if I don’t sell even one book, talking to people is key for me. I love to chat. It’s one of my super powers, so I exercise it in full force. I offer a free read if people sign up for my newsletter (Yes, I approve of bribery) and I smile, ask what people read, even chat about my dogs (basically my kids since I don’t have human ones).

Selling books is the goal, in theory, but contact with readers makes me feel that I accomplished something. 
 
And I always have fun.

I’ve done huge signings, mid-sized ones, and even one with only two other authors. 
 
Size doesn’t matter (*snicker* In some things—c’mon, I write romance, I had to.)
Contact with people—readers—matter.

Sharing something of myself as a person, and of course, sharing my awesome stories with someone who might not (probably doesn’t) know me. It’s what it’s all about. There’s no better promo than word-of-mouth.

If a reader thinks it’s cool meeting ME. That makes me have warm fuzzies.

Kinda what it’s all about, isn’t it?

Collision Control (Crossing Forces Book Four)

A one night stand can’t possibly mean forever…

Detective Jared Manning met his match at a bar. After a night of passion, she sneaks out of his bed without so much as a note. Problem is, now he can’t find her.

Kindergarten teacher, Melody Nash doesn’t do one night stands. Embarrassment gets the best of her and she lies about her name.

When they collide at her school, Mel resists his pull. She won’t risk her heart on the obvious playboy, even though she can’t stop thinking about the night in his arms.

Stress engulfs Jared’s personal and professional lives. His brother is at the center of the joint case he and his partner are working in cooperation with FBI.
He puts his job on the line when he fails to share his blood relation. 

Complications he doesn’t need, considering the FBI agent on the case is convinced his brother killed her fiancĂ©.

Balance is the name of the game. Can Jared save his brother and convince Mel they’re meant to be together?

Excerpt

Jared cleared his throat. “Can I sit next to you?”

Her head whipped back around. “Why?”

He rocked back on the heels of his shitkickers.

Why?

Charm. Focus on being charming.

I like to keep the company of a beautiful woman.” Jared smiled.

She frowned.

He stared. He couldn’t help it.

She frowned at a compliment?

Jared quirked an eyebrow and slid onto the chair next to hers, because she was never going to invite him to sit. And that made him want to join her even more. Intrigued the hell out of him. “What’s your name?”

Cocking her head to one side, she studied him. “Uh…Ren.”

Wren like the bird? Cool name.”

No.” Her cheeks reddened again and she looked away. “Umm…it’s…short for Renee.”

He watched her fidget before she’d meet his gaze again. His stomach churned at the thought of her being uneasy with him. He forced words out. “Can I call you Renee?”

Those eyes met his and he swallowed hard. Crystal blue, like a morning summer sky. Jared had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

O-o-o-kay. I mean, sure.” More shifting, so he reached for her hand.

Touching her resulted in a zing of energy shooting up his arm. Their eyes locked. Her lips parted and his mouth went dry.

He wanted to kiss her.

No. Jared needed to kiss her.

Before he could even lean in, Renee gasped and moved away.

Which one of them put you up to this?” she demanded. The suspicion in her voice made him rear back.

He blinked.

Wanting to kiss a woman two seconds after meeting her was fast…even for him.

Get it together, seriously.

Excuse me?” His voice cracked.

She looked away. “Never mind.”

Jared studied her. She was nervous. No…uncomfortable. Why? “Renee.”

When she met his eyes, his heart skipped.

I want to have a nice evening. A drink. A dance. With you.”

She cleared her throat and Jared wanted to kiss it.

With. Me.” It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “With you. Is that a problem?”

Renee’s pale blue gaze raked his face. “No. I guess not. My friends are always telling me I need to loosen up.”

Are they now?” He flashed his best charming grin. “Just so happens I’m pretty good at helping that along.”


Buy Links





About the Author

Bestselling, award winning author of romantic suspense and epic fantasy romance, C.A. loves to dabble in different genres. If it's a good story, she'll write it, no matter where it seems to fit!


She's a hopeless romantic and always will be. Risking it all for Happily Ever After is what she lives by!


She's originally from Ohio, but got to Texas as soon as she could. She's happily married and has a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice.


She works with kids when she's not writing.



Where to find C.A.:

Twitter: @caszarek


Friday, October 10, 2014

A Giveaway at C.A.'s Blog... AND Here!

Hi! I'm over at C.A. Szarek's blog today, talking about how confused my characters sometimes seem to be about what - or whom - they want.

http://caszarekwriter.blogspot.com/2014/10/friday-feature-lisabet-sarais-confused.html

Since the post I sent her was too long - I do have a problem with wordiness - she decided to omit my excerpt from The Ingredients of Bliss. So I'm posting it here, just for fun, and because it highlights my main point about my character's confusion.

Leave a comment on her post or on this post and I'll enter you to win a copy of Wild About That Thing. Leave comments on both posts, and I'll enter you twice!


Excerpt (R-rated)

Damn you both! Im not some piece of meat to be carved up between you!All at once I wanted to get out of this too crowded bed. I wanted to throw on my clothes and storm out of the room in righteous indignation. To do so, though, I would have to clamber over Etiennes magnificent body. It would be difficult to avoid touching his resurgent erection.

Calm down, Emily.Harrys hand clamped around my wrist and I knew I wasnt going anywhere.We did confer about tonight, I admit. We agreed that sharing you was the best approach to a situation that was bound to become awkward very soon.

Awkward? Things were going very smoothly. You dominated me. I dominated Etienne. Everyone was happy.

You werent happy, love. Admit it. You felt guilty and confused. When you were with Etienne, you felt as though you were betraying me. Meanwhile Etiennes devotion had you worried about his reaction when he learned you belonged to me.

He was right, of course. I remembered my tête à tête with Etienne at the café that afternoon. Id been terribly concerned about his reaction to the news about Harry. Meanwhile when Harry had made me recount my exploits with Etienne, Id always tried to conceal my excitement, to play down the thrill I got acting the role of his mistress.

Youve got nothing to hide now.With his lanky frame, mussed hair and crooked grin, Harry almost looked like a teenager. A very horny teen, considering the substantial erection bobbing hopefully at his groin. He flipped back onto his side and fixed me with a slightly fuzzy gaze. He was irresistibly cute without his glasses.Everythings out in the open.

But its all socomplicated!As usual, my objections began to melt in the warmth of his smile.

He danced his fingers up my outstretched thigh and my pussy clenched in anticipation.

On the contrary, I think this considerably simplifies the situationMs Wong.Etiennes voice was deferential, but I read a mirror of Harrys mischief in his expression.I serve you. You serve Harry. Each of us gets what he or she wants.

Theres no more need for secrets, love. Or for surreptitiously administered enhancements to the libido, either…” Harry slipped a fingertip between my moist lips and grazed a fingernail across my clit.

My annoyance paled next to the flare of pleasure kindled by his touch. Before I could clamp down to hold his hand in my crotch, however, he’d snatched it away.

Oh no!I groaned, fighting arousal and disappointment.You told him?

I had my suspicions in any case. It doesnt matter. Your methods might have been dubious, but Im grateful for the results.Etienne glanced down at the livid marks from my beating, a set of parallel strips leading up his lean thighs toward his rearing cock.I might never have had the courage to act on my desires if not for yourumintervention.His voice held quiet pride.

You dont have to be ashamed or embarrassed,Harry added.All we wantboth of usis to satisfy you. To please you and make you happy. Cant you just accept that?

Monday, April 14, 2014

Villains

By C.A. Szarek (Guest Blogger)

Villains are tough. 

They’re people. People are flawed. Even the hero and heroine of any given story isn’t perfect. (I find I don’t like a story when they are anyway.)

So, back to the bad guy.

He/she has an important role to the story, especially in romantic suspense. The villain has to be real, but he or she can’t be SO awful that the reader skips sections of the book to get back to the love story.

They have a necessary place, and their place needs to be well articulated. The author has to explain what the villain wants, why, and how they’re going to get it. (Or how they think they’ll succeed. Hopefully our hero has something to say about that).

No one is 100% evil, so sometimes a villain has a redeemable quality or two. Or at least something the reader can relate to. They have to be interesting in some light. Quirky maybe. Or heck, even funny.

Something that keeps the reader going until we get back to “the good stuff” in a story.

Not to slight the villains (they tend to get testy about that). Sometimes “the good stuff” very much involves our love-to-hate person in the book—action, danger, heck, maybe even a little sex. (Or a lot of sex?)

They have to be multifaceted enough to make the reader want to turn that page. After all, that’s the goal, right?

The villains I love most to read about ride that line between good and bad—right and wrong.
They make choices that make me cringe, but they have to feel (and have it be credible) that they’re making the decision(s) for a good reason.

We love to hate a good villain—or even better, have a hard time hating them, when we feel like we should.
It’s even better when they’re hot, too. Just a personal choice. It complicates the feelings for them, because pretty things shouldn’t be bad, right? *snicker*

FOR MY GIVEAWAY!

So what’s your favorite quality in a villain? What’s a peeve about a villain?

Two winners will be selected from all the commenters, and I will give away an ebook of The Tartan MP3 Player to each!

I’m excited to see what makes a good villain to you guys!

The Tartan MP3 Player by C.A. Szarek

Blurb

Book One in the time travel, fantasy romance series, Highland Secrets!

She never believed in magic…

Claire McGowan, Scotophile and historical romance novel addict, finally saves up enough for her dream vacation to Scotland.

She never imagines she’ll get sucked back to the seventeenth century while running on the beach—that’s what she gets for exercising when she should be relaxing.

He knows with a harsh certainty magic exists...

The Fae have taken his brother—Laird of his clan. Duncan MacLeod finds a bonnie naked and confused lass. He’s convinced Claire arrived in 1672 through the Faery Stones—a magical portal he’s been scouring the lands for over the past six months.

At last, he has someone who’s been through the Faery Stones and can help him find them—and get his brother back.

Duncan promises to help Claire get home, even though his desire to have her wars with his vow.

Torn between familiarity of the present and what she wants in the past, can Claire help Duncan find his brother and get back to the future? Will she even want to?

Excerpt:

“Who goes there?” A deep, accented voice made her jump.

Her MP3 player crashed to the sand, the wires from her headphones ripping over her shoulders as they flew away from her body, but she didn’t go after the devices.

Claire’s heart kicked into overdrive, and she shot her arm across her naked breasts. Plastered her palm over her bare sex.

“Okay, don’t like this dream anymore.” Her voice jumped up an octave.

Why can’t I wake up?

Maybe a touch of fright would make her wake the hell up.

“Ummm….hello?” Claire ventured even though her pulse pounded in her temples. She didn’t see the voice’s owner, but she was stuck now.

Not like I can run and hide.

She wasn’t fond of a stranger seeing her nude, even if gym time had given her a rockin’ body.
Claire smirked. Her sister would’ve declared her egotistical right then and there.

Three figures came into view, standing atop a grassy overhang and staring down at her. Two men and a boy.

“Lass?” One asked.

Lass?

Okay, no more Scottish Highlander romance novels before bed for you, Claire McGowan. But at least she’d placed the accent.

All three were dressed in period clothing. Like—seventeen hundreds or something. The tallest one had a tartan kilt on.

The man who’d spoken was older, wearing a thick grey beard he was currently scratching, as if he was trying to figure her out.

Well, duh. Naked girl on the beach at the ass crack of dawn should do it every time.

The boy looked about ten. He scrambled down the incline, stopping about three feet from her and staring. Wide blue eyes. Dark, messy hair that needed a good cut.

Claire backed up, squeezing her eyes shut. “Seriously, wake up.” Though she should pat herself on the back for the vivid imagination—if she didn’t have to cover her tender parts—she would’ve so been on that.

This place looked and felt real.

“Are ye Fae?” The kid’s brogue was thick, but his voice was high, making him sound younger than she’d guessed.

“Wh-what?” Claire asked, taking another step back.

“Angus, hush.” The last man admonished. His voice was familiar; he’d been the one who’d called out first.

He jumped down to the beach with little effort.

Claire almost forgot to cover herself as she gazed up at him.

Had to be about six-five or six-six.

Definitely had a foot on her, for sure.

Blue eyes, like the kid. Long black hair that flowed in the wind. He was wearing a kilt, and had the same tartan pattern strewn across his body, shoulder to waist and held down with a belt, but no shirt beneath. A huge, defined pec peeked out and her stomach fluttered.

Good job, Claire. At least you dreamt up someone yummy.

The model on the cover of the book she’d been reading before bed had nothing on this guy.

“Lass? Are ye all right?” His voice was concerned, as was his expression. He spoke gently.

“M-m-m-me?”

Way to go on the stutter, Clair-bear. Her sister’s nickname popped into her head with ease. It should’ve grounded her, but she still didn’t wake up.

“She talks funny, uncle!”

How can he tell?

She’d said two words, literally.

“Where am I?” Claire whispered. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made her shift on her feet.

“Isle of Skye.” The boy jumped up and down. “We were supposed to go fishing. But I found ye, instead.”

“Hush, Angus MacLeod,” the man said, but there was amusement in his tone. However, he didn’t take his eyes off Claire.

A tremor slid down her spine when his gaze travelled her frame.

Still. Naked.

She wanted to sink into the sand, her earlier confidence about her body gone. Claire shivered, her teeth chattered.

“Jesu, lass. Yer freezin’.” The huge man unbelted the plaid from his waist and whipped it off his torso. It was a separate piece from his kilt, and now he stood before her bare chested. His accent was as thick as the boy’s, but she could make his words out clearer.

Sexy as hell.

“Yeah, kinda naked over here.” A nervous titter fell from her lips and made Claire wince.

“Is she Fae, uncle?” Angus asked.

“Ye’ve been spending too much time with my father. Da, stop clouding the lad’s head with faery tales,” the man called.

The old guy on the hill chuckled. “Och, then ye shouldna leave the lad with me when you go off.”
“Like I have a choice.”

Buylinks for The Tartan MP3 Player:
















Author Bio

Multigenre, award winning and bestselling author, C.A. is originally from Ohio, but got to Texas as soon as she could. She is married and has a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice.
She works with kids when she’s not writing.

She’s always wanted to be a writer and is overjoyed to share her stories with the world.





Where to find C.A.:
Twitter: @caszarek

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

They Have Meds for That

By C.A. Szarek (Guest Blogger)


So, the first time I told my husband my characters talk to me, he told me “They have meds for that.” I just had to giggle. Even though he’s my other half, he struggles to understand me as a writer. It’s difficult. 

In my experience, that’s pretty common. No one else except another writer can understand fully.

But that’s all right. Because I can still share my stories with the world, whether people like them or not.

When people ask me how I decide what to write about, or how a particular story goes, it boils down to this: My characters tell me more often than I decide.

I am a pantser, which means I write by the seat of my pants. I don’t plot. I just sit down and write and hope the words flow. Sometimes they do. Sometimes I struggle. Sometimes I think I know what’s going to happen, and they throw me for a loop. Sometimes I’m write and the story follows the lines I assumed they would. But so far, if I listen to them, they let me know what the story will be.

Promise I’m not crazy!

When I’ve tried to plot, I haven’t been all that successful. I made decisions and when the story changed, I didn’t deal with the change in my structure. It just stressed me out. So I had to convince myself the way I have been doing things, my process, isn’t wrong. That every writer is different. And that’s OKAY!

Whatever works to get the words on the page is the correct way.

I guess that’s what I would tell other writers: Don’t mess with what’s not broken.

You know how I said my characters talk to me? Well, sometimes they can be difficult. As in…they won’t/don’t SHUT UP! Or give me peace of any kind.

One in particular, Cole, the hero of Collision Force (Crossing Forces Book One) feels as if he should be the center of my universe. When I was writing the book, he haunted my dreams. One might think that’s helpful to a pantser like me, but he wouldn’t let me even think about anything else! I suppose it’s handy that he’s so hot. 6’4, black hair, gray eyes, and of course all the right muscles. Hehehe. He’s funny, too, which is always a plus.

But I figured I would get relief when I was done with the book. Not so much. I KEPT dreaming about him, and his heroine, Andi. The positive thing in all that is, I suppose that they gave me the idea for a very cute Christmas story!

When I moved on to start book two, Cole insisted he needed an “important” role in the book, so for all those who read CF and like him, be assured you will see him in the second book as well.

I’ve always been a writer, but the road to publication has been an adventure. I’m so glad I get to share what’s in my head with readers!

By the way, I'm giving away a copy of Collision Force to one lucky reader. Just leave a comment that includes your email to be added to the drawing.

Blurb

Bad boy FBI agent and feisty widowed police detective collide pursuing a human trafficker in small town Texas on their way to true love.

Bad boy, married to his job FBI agent Cole Lucas always gets his man. So when the unthinkable happens and one gets away, Cole grits his teeth and hunts human trafficker Carlo Maldonado all the way to Antioch, Texas, where he collides with Detective Andi MacLaren.

Cole doesn’t do small towns and doesn’t get involved with women he works with, but Andi tempts him in ways he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

Two murders, her partner shot and leading the investigation on her own, the last thing Andi needs is a cocky FBI agent who sees her as no more than a tagalong.

Widow and single mother Andi is used to being on her own. When Cole gets stuck without a place to stay, crashing on her couch puts them in dangerous territory.

Attraction and passion bring Andi to a place she’d left behind when her husband died. Her three-year-old son quickly wiggles his way into Cole’s heart, and he starts contemplating things—family, love—that he’d never planned for himself.

Can being forced to work together make them stronger or will their differences jeopardise their case and their hearts?


Excerpt
 
Goodnight, Cole.” Obviously, she didn’t want to talk to him about anything, let alone his overdue apology.

So, that’s it? You’re not going to accept my apology?”

Not tonight. I’m tired, and we have a long day tomorrow.” She turned to go.

Andi, wait.” Why was he calling her back? He could respect that she was still upset with him—she had every right to be. He’d gone a bit overboard with some of the things he’d said.

Keeping Cass’ phone call from her had been unnecessary from the start. He hadn’t needed to carry it on in the car after they’d left the warehouse. It’d only served to get her so pissed off at him she’d barely uttered a word all day. So much for getting somewhere on the case.

Andi glanced over her shoulder and Cole grabbed her wrist. He yanked her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.

He hadn’t intended to kiss her but as her soft, warm lips caressed his, Cole couldn’t have changed his mind even if he’d wanted to. Her curves hit his chest with enough impact that should have jarred him back into his head, but he was lost and overheated immediately. He wrapped her in a tight embrace and kissed her harder.

She fought him, but his mouth was demanding over hers, and Andi opened for him, melting against him, surrendering to him. She slipped her arms around his neck and Cole bit back a groan. Her taste, sweeter than he’d imagined, was like ripe berries. He needed more.

Andi whimpered against his mouth, her tongue dancing with his. His cock stood at attention, straining against his zipper. He moaned as her body melded to his, breasts to chest, hips to hips. Cole had to have her.

As he walked them back towards the couch, she pushed hard against his chest, breaking the kiss and shoving him away from her. They both panted hard.

Don’t…don’t ever do that…again,” she stammered, the gorgeous swell of her breasts lifting and pulling her shirt taut as her chest heaved. He could see peaked nipples. His erection throbbed and he struggled for coherent thought.

Cole dragged his gaze to her face. Blue eyes wide, cheeks rosy, freckles noticeable, her lips swollen from his. Though she’d been appealing before, how she stood before him now blew that out of the water. She was gorgeous.

He needed to say something. Anything. Apologise? He wasn’t sorry in the least. Speechless just about covered it.

She trembled and rubbed her arm. It took all he was made of not to pull her back to him and kiss her again.

There was no chance to answer. Andi turned on her heel and fled down the hall, slipping into the room farthest away from the living room. She didn’t even pause to look at him as she slammed the door.

He winced. What the hell should he make of what had happened? He stared down the hallway for a moment, his heart pounding. Never in his life, not even when he was a teenager, had one kiss stirred him to the point that Andi’s had. Then she’d run from him. His body shook with unfulfilled need.

Cole couldn’t blame her, really. No way should he have given in to the urge to kiss her. But he had the sinking suspicion he would have to do it again—and more. He wouldn’t be able not to. And hell, she’d kissed him back.

The voice of reason chided that he didn’t get involved with women he worked with, but his cock certainly disagreed. He ignored them both and dragged his hand over his face. The morning would bring complications.

Cole sighed and glanced at the couch. It looked comfortable, but would he be able to sleep?

About the Author

C.A. is originally from Ohio, but got to Texas as soon as she could. She is married and has a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice. 

She works with kids when she’s not writing.

She’s always wanted to be a writer and is overjoyed to share her stories with the world
.
Sword's Call (King’s Riders Book One) is C.A.'s first book, and published by Gypsy Shadow Publishing. C.A.'s Collision Force (Crossing Forces Book 1), published by Total-E-Bound Publishing, was released June 28, 2013.

Where to find C.A.:

Twitter: @caszarek

Get your copy of Collision Force today!

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