First Impressions, The Book Cover

Congratulations to Kathy Otten. She won the set of notecards!

So far, my best selling book online has been the digital version of The Beast of Blackbirch Manor with the cover below.



The publisher changed the cover for the print version of the book.



Why? I don't know. Which cover do you find more attractive? Which one would you buy?

My latest release, The Fiend of White Buck Hall, has the cover you see below.



For some unknown reason, Amazon has not given the digital version of the book a cover. I did tell my publisher, and I did try to upload it myself to no avail. So on Amazon the book cover for digital version of The Fiend of White Buck Hall looks like this:

Despite the lack of a cover, there are readers who have purchased the digital version of that book. :^)

Book covers are an author's first impression for a reader. I have been disappointed in some of the covers I've received and ecstatic with others, but my opinion of the cover does not necessarily correlate with the sales of the books. Sales are influenced by other factors as well. However, a great book cover does help and I truly appreciate the skill of the artists who have worked on the covers for my books.

Look at the three books below. Which one would you choose to read--based on your first impression?



Anyone who comments from now until Friday, June 11, 2010, will be entered into a drawing. The winner will receive a set of notecards with the images of my bookcovers on the front of the notecards.

At the Library

I love to talk about books! I had a wonderful, attentive audience today at the Monmouth County Eastern Branch Library. They asked some great questions.

It was fun. :^)

Rolling With the Punches

Please see the follow-up for this post at: http://www.ameliamarzec.com/rewired/
It’s been a tough year for the Marzecs with too many hospitalizations of family members.

I’ve never watched television soap operas and for the most part, I’ve seldom been intrigued by any television series because I’ve got plenty of drama all around me.

Unfortunately, it’s not simply drama in the theatrical sense, it’s real—it’s painful—it doesn’t go away—and there isn’t always a happy ending. (Which is why I’m hooked on romances—I always get a happy ending no matter how bad things look in the beginning.)

Of all the difficult circumstances this year, the hardest one to take was discovering the tumor in Daughter #2’s head grew back after last year’s surgery to remove it. (You can read about that operation HERE.)

As soon as she found out the tumor had returned, she eliminated anything artificial from her diet and began to eat everything thought to reduce tumors. Yes, the tumor is technically benign, but it’s in a bad place. It presses on the facial nerve, the brain, and has been the cause of the loss of her hearing in her left ear.

This past week, Daughter #2 had her second surgery for the acoustic neuroma.


(Above: Waiting for surgery to begin.)


(Above: The surgeon's mark)

As we did last year, hubby and I stayed at Daughter #2’s Brooklyn apartment and took the subways to NYU Medical Center where the surgery was done. It was a long, delicate procedure and we did not see Daughter #2 in the recovery room until around 8:30 p.m.

Though she was groggy, she was able to speak to us. She was very concerned as to whether her facial muscles worked. The ones on her left side are weak, but minimally—so she may regain her wide smile. She told us to take out the garbage and to tell her landlord she was okay.

Exhausted, we headed back to Brooklyn late that night. However, we stopped to listen to an accordion player at the 14th Street station. Music is magical, no matter what else is going on—music touches the soul in a special way. The elderly accordionist played old folk tunes on his very ancient instrument. It was nice to take a break in all the hectic craziness of the 14th Street station.



By the next morning, Daughter #2 was doing very well. She was eating. Last year, for the first few days after surgery, she spent a lot of time being nauseous.


(Above:The morning after surgery--looking good.)

The doctors claim to have removed 95% of the tumor. They could not get it all because the facial nerve rested on it. So if the tumor grows—as it did last time, the next step is the gamma knife. Daughter #2 had an MRI on the third day, the results of that will give the doctors a baseline to assess any tumor growth.


(Above: The view from Daughter #2's room in intensive care.

Also on the third day, Daughter #2 had all the wires and tubes removed. Though she was still in ICU, her coworkers came to visit, which cheered her immensely.


(Above: Daughter #2 and some of her co-workers.)


(Above: The Impressive Scar)

The next day, the doctors took the bandage off. She has an impressive scar. Discharged from the hospital, she will now recuperate at home.

As for me, I’m just rolling with the punches.

Tracking Book Sales

I never know how my books are selling at my publishers' websites until I get a royalty statement from them. However, I can check my books' sales ranks at Barnes and Nobles as well as Fictionwise and I frequently do--though on Fictionwise it isn't easy because I must scroll through the lists. It is far easier to keep track of my sales on Amazon since there are several sites that will track my sales for me.

By far, my favorite tracking site is http://www.novelrank.com because that site will also track Kindle sales. It lists how many books were sold and when.

I also like Metric Junkie--mostly for their colorful graphs, though Kindle sales are not included. And for me, Kindle sales have been rather nice. :^)

For a simple listing of sales ranks, which is only for paper editions, I go to http://www.salesrankexpress.com/. This site will also list Amazon sales in other countries, too.

These tracking sites are helpful tools! Using them helps me to know if my promotional efforts have been effective.

Rutgers Day

Two of my sisters graduated from Rutgers. Daughter #2 graduated from Rutgers and Daughter #1 works for Rutgers. Since today's weather was perfect, we decided to be a part of Rutgers Day and joined the sea of people inundating the campus.



We bought food in front of the Food Science building.



Here's the famous Passion Puddle--still an idyllic spot.



We went to the Busch campus next. Daughter #1 works at the Cell and DNA Repository so we took a tour of it.



Afterwards, we tried some vanilla liquid nitrogen ice cream. Then hubby and Daughter #1 decided to try a Segway. Daughter #1 got the hang of it quickly.



At one exhibit, I learned how to tell the difference between a female and male skull. Maybe I can use that knowledge in a book someday.

We all had a great time. Although I was a bit disappointed that we did not see the Scarlet Knight. He was supposed to be on campus somewhere. :^(

One Long Dark Night

My father has rarely talked of his experiences as a sergeant in the Air Force during during World War II. He was stationed in New Guinea and the Philippines. When I was young he told us of a few humorous incidents, but nothing that ever even hinted at the horrors of war. For instance, once he was assigned to fly on a plane to Australia to pick up musicians and supplies. On the return trip, one of the plane's engines died and to make it back safely those inside had to lighten the load--part of which was gin. Did the men on board get toss the gin into the ocean? Of course not. They tossed out the musicians' instruments.

This story always made everyone laugh, and Dad has always been rather witty. However, since Mom died, he's become much more philosophical. And he still gets emotionally choked up--over just about everything.

Last Sunday, as we chatted after dinner, he related some war stories he had never told us. In one of them, he told how Japanese paratroopers floated down from the sky at dusk one evening on the island where he was stationed. My father set his men along a perimeter but as night wore on, he could not see the men and he did not know if the perimeter would hold.

He told us he was never so glad to see the dawn and to discover that indeed his men were still there. Dad got choked up as he told us the story.

Dad told us how he slept under a canvas roof for three years. How his job was to get men to work on an landing strip made of metal plates. How the enemy would come in with "daisy cutters" and shoot at the men. How the enemy planes would drop bombs on the landing strip.

Last year, I posted a photo I found online of my father. You can find the post here.

Dad wears a cap with the emblem of the Fifth Bomber Command sewed onto it. Most people have no idea what the emblem stands for. However, only a few weeks ago--at the dermatologist's office--we met another elderly man who had served in the Fifth, though in Korea. My father got choked up again, simply amazed after all these years he had found someone else who belonged to the Fifth--who knew what the emblem stood for.

I am glad my father made it back to New Jersey.

I pray for all those soldiers who are fighting now.

Distracting Myself

Last week Daughter #3 was in a hospital two hours away from home. We had a gloomy Easter because she was feeling really terrible! We brought her back home on Wednesday and she's now on the mend. Hopefully this was just what she needed so she can be better than ever. Today she was out in the sunshine soaking up some Vitamin D. So all is well.

However, the four hours of driving did get a bit wearing so I guzzled down a few cups of coffee to keep alert. I am so glad I can read and write in a moving vehicle. I have never gotten carsick, bus sick, train sick, or seasick. So while hubby was driving, I was typing on my Alphasmart, or reading, or editing. Hubby had an accordion CD playing, but it didn't bother me. I can tune out his music. I can get a lot done on a long car ride--especially when I'm tanked up on coffee.

Of course, whenever I drive he has to listen to my music. :^)

Today I gave a talk at RWA NYC about marketing e-books. I wrote and revised a lot of that talk while we were going back and forth to see Daughter #3 in the hospital. Writing that talk was a good diversion.

That's the way I usually operate. I firmly believe in distraction. Everyone has troubles, but rather than dwell on them I keep busy. It works for me. It's kept me sane--or at least as sane as a writer can be because I have all these imaginary people in my head who want me to tell their story.

And right now, Grace and Russell are getting impatient. I've got to finish their story. They're about to go to Minnesota for a wedding.

Sure beats going to a hospital.

What I Did During the Nor'Easter

Yesterday, while New Jersey was being hammered by a nor'easter, I got up early and drove north on the Parkway to Woodbridge to attend the Liberty States Fiction Writers conference. Once there, I chatted with old friends and some new ones. I listened to Sarah Wendell insist that authors should be putting up free digital content on their website. I listened to F. Paul Wilson talk about the writing life.

I also had appointments with two editors and one agent. I was trying to sell a contemporary romance which doesn't fit in with my current publishers' lines. I was also trying to find a home for my two fantasy novellas which were previously published by New Concepts Publishing. The rights of those two novellas have been returned to me.

I am not a neophyte when it comes to pitching a book. I have done it many times--though I am always nervous about it. Invariably, no matter how much I practice, my brain will disconnect at some point and fail to mention a critical plot point. When I suddenly realize an important piece of plot is missing, I will stumble over my words.

Fortunately, the majority of editors and agents are not fire-breathing dragons. (There may be a few out there, but I haven't met them yet.) I was not singed despite my inept pitches. I will be sending off my manuscripts once I read through them again and make sure I have all my commas in place.

Convincing someone else that I've written a really good book takes more than a ten minute interview. They have to read the book, too. :^)

It's All in the Details

Hubby and I went to the beach on Sunday. It was mild for February even though the sand had plenty of snow on it as did the boardwalk. We watched one woman hand breadcrumbs to her children so they could feed the seagulls. The birds squabbled with each other over every piece. Of course, people really should not feed them, but it was interesting to watch the birds--up close. They weren't afraid of us. I think they figured we might be giving them a handout, too. They watched us rather expectantly.

Even if I didn't have a camera in my hand, I'm sure I could recall many of the details if I needed to use a similar scene in one of my books. Since I grew up at the shore, it's easy for me to create an accurate picture. I know the vocabulary of the beach, the color of the sand, the things that drift in on the tide, the smell of the ocean, the sound of the waves, and the cry of the gulls. Then there's that peaceful feeling that settles on everyone when they stare out at the vast expanse of water.

The beach has a special ambiance all its own, but no two days are alike at the beach. There's the beach in the fog (which is really awesome), on a windy day, and on a sweltering day in July. Same scene--different atmosphere, which is great for mirroring the mood in the story. It's all in the details.

Blogging at Backseat Nightmares

Check out the blog at Backseat Nightmares today. See what I have to say about the Chinese zodiac and me at http://romanceinthebackseat.com/paranormal/blog/2010/02/stubborn-ox-by-penelope-marzec.html.

Which animal in the Chinese zodiac are you?

You can find out at:

http://www.chiff.com/home_life/holiday/chinese-zodiac.htm.

Book Video for The Fiend of White Buck Hall

I spent the past few days putting together a book video for The Fiend of White Buck Hall. I bought several stock photos from iStockphoto, but as usual I had several photos of my own to use. The mansion in the video is Batso. The park scenes are from Thompson Park.

In fact, the initial idea for The Fiend of White Buck Hall came from a walk in the park one evening at dusk. We heard and saw an owl in a tree high above us. Then Daughter #2 swore she heard a deer stamping the ground behind us.

I did not see a deer, but it was getting a bit creepy. So we hurried out of there as quickly as we could. The park ranger was waiting by our car. :^)

You can find the book at http://www.newconceptspublishing.com. Currently, it is only available in digital form.

Just Released!

They say Thomas Hillyer, a wizard, is in league with the Devil and that the white buck roaming his estate hypnotizes people and steals their souls. Molly is a fugitive, wanted for a crime she did not commit. Seeing a want ad for a secretary in a sleepy town, she sets off for White Buck Hall but ignores the warning about the albino stag who lurks in the woods. When she meets him on the forest path, her life is forever changed.

You can read the first chapter at:

http://www.newconceptspublishing.com/penelopemarzecbooks.html

Latest Interview

If you want to know more about me, it's easy. Just go to:

http://www.fallenangelreviews.com/Interviews/2010/January-JoAnn-PenelopeMarzec.htm.

There's a brand new interview with all sorts of fascinating details about my life. :^)

Enjoy!

Another One

Yesterday's weather was lovely. Hubby and I decided to visit a bigger, more elaborate labyrinth. This one is on the grounds of the Upper Room Spiritual Center. Below you can see hubby walking around.



There's a small plaque that explains a bit about labyrinths.



I am totally hooked on labyrinths now and want to visit as many as I can.

Labyrinths

The temperature was around fifty degrees outside today, which was quite nice for the middle of January and the perfect day for a walk.

I had happened to see a small article in Woman's World magazine about labyrinths. The article claimed that walking in a labyrinth endows you with peace and focus. It can also assist you in thinking more creatively and give you powerful insights--great stuff for a writer! And if you're stressed, it's supposed to alleviate that problem, too. I thought this would be a just the thing for hubby and I to experience. All I had to do was find one with the labyrinth locator at: http://www.labyrinthsociety.com.

It turned out that there was a labyrinth nearby. Unfortunately, a tree had fallen on part of the maze. But hubby and I dutifully followed the pathways as much as we could. Hubby was concerned whether we were doing it right.

We finished it quickly and I really did not feel any more focused or more peaceful. But perhaps I need to walk in another labyrinth--a bigger one.

I looked up more information on labyrinths at http://www.lessons4living.com/labyrinth.htm so that next time I'll have the proper attitude when we walk along the winding paths. We'll do it right!

Great Review for The Company You Keep!

The Company You Keep received Four Coffee Cups from Cherokee, a reviewer for Coffee Time Romance. She said, "The Company You Keep is a delightful story. I enjoyed the simmering chemistry that slowly continued to brew between Jennifer and Nathan. The suspense spills along the way, and keeps the reader engaged and on the edge-of-the-seat. With each page, I was taken deeper and deeper into this driven read. Penelope Marzec builds an in-depth story, and driven players that captivate. I found the foundation of the storyline wonderfully done. This story not only kept this reader guessing until the conclusion, but also left a wonderful sensation in the soul after this unique read."

You can read the entire review at http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/thecompanyyoukeep.html

The book is available at Crescent Moon Press. Check it out!

Excerpt from HEAVEN'S BLUE

Published by Awe-Struck Publishing
ISBN-10: 1587494469
ISBN-13: 978-1587494468

Samantha's tour of the house turned out to be rather brief. David hadn't realized how small the cottage really was. A kitchen, a pantry/utility room, a living room, one bedroom, one bathroom, and a screened-in porch. No basement, no attic, no den.

A cooling breath of air fanned David's face as they stepped back out onto the porch, the best feature of the tiny house. Four wicker chairs and a low table formed a cozy seating arrangement.

Samantha sank down onto one of the chairs and David did the same. James crawled into his lap.

"So how am I supposed to catch the mosquitoes?" he asked.

"You stand outside and naturally, some mosquitoes land on you."

She gave him a tremulous smile and he blinked to prevent himself from being mesmerized.

"I have a straw-type device and you sort of suck up the mosquito--"

"What if I swallow it?" David interrupted.

"It won't hurt you."

He watched her long, thin fingers smooth out her gauzy skirt. Everything about her seemed so soft and feminine that he almost felt he could relax. He wrapped his arms more closely about James. No. He couldn't let down his guard. Not with her. Not with anyone.

He glanced outside at the endless miles of salt hay and at the blue water beyond that. It would be safe enough, he guessed. "Anyhow, then you put the live mosquito--because, of course, it must be live to test the pesticide--into a small cardboard trap--with a screen on it, so it can't get out. I'll do all the rest. It isn't difficult."

"So I'm a sitting duck. I stand outside, get eaten alive by bugs, maybe catch a few--"

"You have to catch a lot," she broke in. "This part of the study is very important. I have been breeding mosquitoes in the lab and testing the pesticide on them, but I need a control group, a totally unrelated batch of mosquitoes."

"Can't you just take your vacuum cleaner outside and draw in a million of them?"

Her archaic method sounded ridiculous to David.

"You would hurt them!" She frowned.

"Heaven forbid," he stated in a mocking tone.

Her eyes sparked flint at him. He leaned back in the chair, feeling the heat from her searing gaze. James sighed as his eyes began to close.

"It's extremely important research," she reminded him.

David didn't doubt that the earnestness in her face could convince Congress to appropriate trillions of dollars in funding for her cause. Then he reminded himself that right now, he and James needed a safe haven, and this could be an ideal situation.

"Okay, okay." He tried to sound apologetic. "There are nasty viruses and we must do something about it. So when do I start my human pincushion routine?"

"Tomorrow. Today is Sunday..." Her voice trailed off and she glanced into the distance.

Simply the thought of anything religious made him defensive and he stiffened. He had seen nothing but hypocrisy in his dealings with supposed "Christians".

"It doesn't matter to me what day this is," he said. "I don't believe there is a God."

She whipped her head around and stared at him with such surprise in her expression that he had an urge to touch the top of his head to make sure he hadn't sprouted horns.

"Not at all?"

With a voice that sounded hard and bitter, even to his own ears, he gave her his version of the world. "Everything that happens here on this earth is random. Good people meet up with terrible tragedies and very evil people do remarkably well during their lifetimes. Why would a god, who supposedly loved his creations, treat them so cruelly? Why would he make them suffer? The good guys don't win. Honesty is not the best policy. The clever liar will always have a better life."

He didn't add that women who are monsters get custody of their children. He couldn't say it because he knew he was guilty of not spending enough time with his own son. He should have known, but he had been too busy.

"I can understand how you might feel that way."

Her voice had such a tender quality to it that for a fleeting second he actually believed her and thought she might be capable of understanding his predicament. Then his better judgment returned and he glared at her, fully expecting her to clobber him with sermon number one, a compassionate plea aimed at getting him to come back to the fold.

However, she surprised him by not saying another word. The silence hung between them like the heavy atmosphere on the muggy afternoon. She turned her head to stare off into the distant, hazy horizon. He hesitated. She seemed so vulnerable for a moment. He noticed her hands tremble slightly and she bit her lip.

He shook himself mentally. She was probably feeling tainted by sitting in close proximity with a heathen. She might be regretting the fact that she had hired him.

He glanced down at James. His son had fallen fast asleep in his arms.

"I guess I better show you to your room," Samantha whispered.

Though he tried not to move suddenly, the moment he got out of the chair, James woke up again.

"Put me down, Daddy!" James insisted.

David sighed. From this point on, he knew James would be completely wired and impossible to deal with unless he got a nap.

Samantha led them across the yard to the lab building, a low concrete structure. She ushered them into a small hallway and then unlocked the door on the left. When she swung it open, David sucked in his breath as an overwhelming sensation hit him. The small, austere room reminded him of a cell--maybe it was the color of the walls, a sickly, institutional green, or maybe it was the cheap metal furniture. Or maybe it was a premonition. He struggled to recover his regular breathing rate and force down his fear.

Samantha crossed over to the small window and opened it. "I'm sorry it's so stuffy in here. I have a fan in the lab you can use."

Meanwhile, of course, James bounced into the room and opened the wardrobe along with every drawer. He lifted a black book out of one.

"What's this?"

"A Bible." Samantha answered.

James opened it. "There aren't any pictures."

"No. But there are lots of stories."

James frowned at the dull-looking book and dropped it back into the drawer. "Bunkbeds!" he squealed as he clambered up the ladder. "Can I sleep on the top?"

"Sure," David replied hoarsely.

"Look, I can touch the ceiling." James reached up with just his index finger.

"You're taller than your father, now." Samantha smiled.

"I am!" James looked ready to burst with delight.

David felt a painful squeeze around his heart at the unbridled joy in his son's face.

When Samantha showed them the tiny bathroom, James grabbed the faucet and turned it on full force. Water splashed out over the sides of the small bowl. "James! Stop it!" David roared. He slapped at James' hand and switched the faucet off. James' tiny shoulders shook and his face crumpled. David clamped his jaw together. He knew that James' tears would be next. Would Samantha decide that she had made a mistake in bringing him and his son here? However, Samantha simply turned to a small closet and got out a bucket and a sponge.

"This is Mr. Spongy, James, he can wipe up any mess." "Hello, James." Samantha, using a silly voice, folded the sponge in her hand and made it open and close like a mouth. One tear rolled down James' cheek, but he immediately started to smile. "Hi Mr. Spongy."

"I am so thirsty, James, can you help me drink up this water?" Samantha handed the sponge to James who eagerly tried to make it talk, too. Then David watched in amazement as she patiently showed James how to wipe up the mess.

Once that was finished, Samantha left them to settle into their new surroundings. James went back to the drawer with the Bible. He took it up to the top bunk with him and started turning the pages.

"The big lion ran after the little boy to eat him up." James made up a story for himself.

David went to the window and looked out over the desolate marshland. He could see nothing but miles and miles of short grass interspersed with narrow waterways stretching to the blue sea beyond. Would he be safer in a forest, or at the top of a mountain? He shrugged. For two weeks, this would probably be okay.

When he turned back to check on his son, he found the child fast asleep with the Bible beside him. David eased the book away and put it back into the drawer. Just the sight of the book irritated him. Based on it, he was destined to a fiery eternity. Well, better that than watch his young son suffer. He stood beside the bunk bed and listened to the child's even, light breathing. Suddenly, he felt wearier than he had in weeks.

To read more about the book go to Awe-Struck Publishing.

Contest Winner!

Bernadine is the winner of a print copy of Sea Of Hope! She commented on the excerpt from that book which I posted on this blog. Anyone who commented was automatically entered into the contest.

Now I have to decide which book will be the prize in my next contest. Which book would you like to win?

Karma

We had a huge snowstorm on Saturday night. It looked lovely as it fell and coated the trees and bushes. However, by Sunday morning we had about twenty inches of snow on the ground--and the snow had drifted so that in some spots it was much higher.

We used shovels and brooms around the cars. Hubby got out his gasoline powered snowblower, but it was not working properly. We have a small electric snowblower, too. I plugged that in but we had to shave off layers of snow with it as we went along--and we did not have enough extension cords to get the snowblower to the sidewalk.

Then a truck plow went by and pushed up a mound of snow nearly four feet high at the end of our driveway. The situation appeared rather hopeless. Each shovelful of snow was as effective as using a thimble to empty out the ocean.

Fortunately, our neighbor, George, who has a massive snowblower came to the rescue.

My father's neighbors shoveled him out, which was a good thing because we did not get to Dad's house until yesterday. Daughter #2's godparents were surprised when a young couple came along to dig them out. The couple would not accept any money for the job. They told her it was karma. Daughter #2's godmother had no idea what they were talking about so she asked me what that meant. I told her it means that the good you do comes back to you. While that's a rather simplistic definition, I figured it was good enough for a eighty year old.

To all the wonderful people who helped dig out their neighbors after the snowstorm I offer my thanks. God bless you. :^)

Frito Pie

I went to the New Jersey Romance Writers' Christmas party today and I brought along my Frito Pie. I never make this recipe at home because it is loaded with sodium. However, it is easy to make and very tasty--the perfect dish for a party because at a holiday gathering nobody is being mindful of their diet anyway. :^)

I originally clipped the recipe from an issue of Woman's World magazine, but I adapted it slightly by making it nearly twice the size.

Enjoy!

FRITO PIE

2 small (9 1/4 ounce) bags of Frito Corn Chips
2 large (27 ounce) cans of kidney beans, rinsed and drained
2 large (25 ounce) cans of Hormel, No Beans, Chili
4 tablespoons dried minced onion
2 cups of shredded extra sharp Cheddar cheese

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Spread 1 bag of corn chips on the bottom of a 9 x 13 pan. Lightly, crush the corn chips. In a large bowl, combine the chili, beans, and onion. Spread that mixture over the corn chips. Sprinkle with the shredded cheese.

Top with the remaining bag of corn chips--except for a few which you are allowed to eat because you are burning calories putting this wonderful food together.

Bake until hot and bubbly--about 30 minutes.

Serves a lot of people!