Monthly Archives: December 2012
I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas/holiday/drunken evening of frivolity, depending on what you celebrate. I had a very nice time, with an awesome Christmas dinner (made my myself and my wife) and some great presents, including the Lord of the Rings extended blu-ray set and a G.B.F (Garrett Bobby Ferguson or Giant Bearded Face) t-shirt.
What the hell is G.B.F? I hear you cry.
But discussing my fantastic Christmas haul, isn’t why we’re here. It’s to announce the winners of the Born of Hatred competition. One lucky person will win a Lego Nate.
I’d just like to thank everyone who took part. As my daughter, and usual name picker, is otherwise engaged with whatever present she wants to play with today, the winners names were picked out via an incredibly geeky formula I did in Excel. So it was utterly random and completely unknown to me who would win what.
So, in reverse order.
You win a poster sized (20 by 30 inches) copy of the cover to either Born of Hatred or Crimes Against Magic (you can pick which), signed by myself and the artist, Eamon O’Donoghue. And a signed bookmark.
You win the same as above (poster of your choice and a bookmark), along with a signed copy of Born of Hatred.
You win a poster sized copy of both covers (Born of Hatred and Crimes Against Magic), both signed by Eamon and myself. A bookmark. A signed copy of Born of Hatred. And the Lego Nate. And the winner is:
Congrats to all of the winners. I’m picking up the posters in the beginning of Jan, and will just wait until the books turn up until I send everything out. So, you may not get them for a few weeks, but I’ll let you know when everything is sent.
As before, the winners now have 10 days to contact me and let me know their address so I can send them their prizes.
Thanks to everyone who took part, and have a good weekend.
So, as many of you are probably aware by now, Born of Hatred was released last weekend. Thank you to everyone who has already picked up a copy. It’s done much better than Crimes Against Magic did on release, and hopefully it will continue to do better for longer. Reviews so far have all been very positive, which I’m very happy with.
Now for a few comments:
- If you did read it, and liked it, consider leaving a review. The more reviews the better and it’s always nice to hear that people have enjoyed reading the book. That’s not just for me, that’s for any writer you read, but especially indie’s.
- Anyone who picked up an early copy, there is a little formatting issue on about 5 pages near the end (the font changed). I have no idea why it happened, or where it came from, but it should be fixed now.
- A paperback version is coming, I promise. I’m trying to get the price down from being about £16 ($25) as I think that’s too much. So with a little formatting, I think I should manage something. It should be out before the new year.
- No, Born of Hatred is not the last book. Not by a long way. But I have no idea when book 3, With Silent Screams, will be out. It’s not even written yet. I do however have a kickass idea for the cover.
- I’ll be writing a few short stories between now and the release of book 3. They’ll be put on this blog when they’re done. But it won’t be for a little while yet.
- If anyone is interested in doing a review/interview/spotlight for their blog, then send me an e-mail by using the contact form.
One last thing before I go. You can still win all kinds of awesome things, including posters, a signed copy of Born of Hatred and even a Lego Nate, by answering the following question:
In Crimes Against Magic, what is the name of the bookshop that Nate visits?
You have until the 27th (1 week) to answer the question. If you want to know more about what you could win, go here.
And that is it for this week. Have a good Christmas everyone, whether you celebrate it or not.
As of this moment in time, Born of Hatred: Book 2 of the Hellequin Chronicles, is now available to purchase on Amazon for $5.99 (£3.84)
And all other Amazon’s too (I’d list them all, but I’d be here all day).
The paperback version will be out soon.
If you’re yet to read the first book, Crimes Against Magic, it’s still available for the low price of $2.99.
As I mentioned last week, my second book, Born of Hatred will be out on the 16th December. To celebrate this fact, I think it’s competition time.
Because I’m feeling particularly kind (which is probably down to the Christmas ‘cheer’), there will be three winners.
So, here’s what each person could win:
Third Place Winner:
A poster sized (20 by 30 inches) copy of the cover to either Born of Hatred or Crimes Against Magic (you can pick which), signed by myself and the artist, Eamon O’Donoghue. And a bookmark
Second Place Winner:
The same as above (poster of your choice and a bookmark), but with a signed copy of Born of Hatred included.
First Place Winner:
A poster sized copy of both covers (Born of Hatred and Crimes Against Magic), both signed by Eamon and myself. A bookmark. A signed copy of Born of Hatred. And this:
Yep. That’s right, the winner gets their very own Lego Nate. There are only 2 of these in the world (and I have 1). So it’s pretty rare, and quite clearly awesome.
So, I hear you shout, how do you win one of these incredible sets? Well, it’s pretty simple. You answer 1 question. Get it right and you go into a draw. In 2 weeks time (27th Dec), I will pick three names out of the draw, one for each prize.
And the question is:
In Crimes Against Magic, what is the name of the bookshop that Nate visits?
So, to enter, just e-mail me (using the contact form) or PM me on Twitter or Facebook and, if you’re correct, you go into a draw to win some cool stuff. Please don’t put the answer on the comments box. You’ll only let everyone else know what it is and give yourself less chance to win.
And if you haven’t read Crimes Against Magic yet, it’s currently on a sale price of $2.99 for a limited time, so you’ve still got a chance to read it. You can get it from Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk, or whichever amazon is your nearest one.
So, you have 2 weeks starting now. Good luck.
As promised, here’s the first chapter of Born of Hatred (Hellequin Chronicles Book 2).
Basingstoke, England. Now.
She lay on the floor, panting. Her chest rose and fell quickly in an effort to get as much oxygen into her body as possible. Her bare midriff, the muscles taut and inviting, the skin tanned and beautiful, glistened with sweat. Only one thought entered my mind. Oh crap.
“You want a drink?” I asked, picking up a bottle of water from the floor.
Sara sat up and caught the cold bottle in one hand when I threw it to her. As she drank, water dripped down her chin, landing just above her sports bra and trickling down between her breasts. I stared at my bottle of water and considered tipping it down my pants. I settled for drinking it, while ensuring that my gaze fell on nothing that could be considered sexy. A stack of blue mats sat at the end of the huge gym hall. There is nothing sexy about a blue gym mat. That did the trick.
“So, you want to go for another round?” she asked.
I turned back to her just in time to catch the half empty bottle of water she’d thrown at my head. “That’s not nice,” I said with a smile. “You’re going to have to be taught a lesson.”
Sara got back to her feet and put herself in a fighting stance. “Come on, old man; let’s see if you’ve still got what it takes.”
I tossed both bottles aside, and deflected the punch I knew was coming. I pushed her arm aside and stepped around her, keeping my distance, making her do the work. Sara might have only been human, and only been fighting for a few months, but what she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in sheer tenacity and quickness.
Her foot spun round, trying to catch me in my ribs, but I blocked it with ease. Unfortunately, she knew what I was going to do and quickly switched tactics, throwing a punch, which I wasn’t positioned to block effectively. I took a glancing blow off my cheek as I dodged aside. “Good shot.”
Sara smiled. She’d remembered not to get dragged into a conversation with the person you’re fighting. Concentrate on the person trying to knock you out, not on trying to chat them up.
She threw another punch, this one meant to distract from her attempt to knee me in the stomach. I wasn’t distracted. I grabbed her thigh, falling back and using my momentum to drag her over and dump her on her back.
What I hadn’t expected was for Sara to grab my arm as she went over, pulling me with her. So, I was the one who ended up on my back, with Sara straddling my chest. Her smile beamed as she undid her ponytail, letting her long blonde hair fall loose over her shoulders.
“Old man,” she said
“You learn quickly.” I tried to sit up and she pushed me back.
“Not yet. You must learn patience.” She laughed, mocking a familiar speech I’d given to her when she’d wanted to learn more quickly than she was capable of.
I pushed her hand away, which caused her to lose her balance. She fell forward, her face coming close to mine. She inhaled sharply as our mouths almost touched. Her pupils dilated and she licked her lips invitingly. I looked into her green eyes and wanted to take her, wanted to feel her naked skin against mine, to feel her moving around me as I entered her. The moment lasted longer than it should have.
“Would Nathan Garret report to Thomas Carpenter’s office? That’s Nathan Garret to Thomas Carpenter’s office.” The loudspeaker announcement brought us both back to our senses.
“We should go,” Sara said, and rolled off me, going over to grab her bottle of water.
I lay on the ground a moment longer, and tried to think of something calming. The gym mats weren’t going to be enough. When finally ready to move, I got back to my feet and made my way to the intercom by the main entrance, pushing the button and informing whoever was on the other end that I would be half an hour. Tommy could come find me himself if it was that important. I didn’t work for him.
“You okay?” I asked Sara, who hadn’t spoken in a few minutes.
“I have a boyfriend,” she said softly. “I love him. I love being with him, he’s fun and sweet and treats me well. Something I’ve not had much experience with.”
“I know,” I said.
“So why do you make me forget all about him? How is it that you have this effect on me? That I want to do incredibly bad things to you every time I see you?”
I shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sara. If you want me to stop training—”
“No,” she snapped. “Tommy and you have told me that if I’m going to be his assistant, I need training. And more than one person has said you’re the best to do that. I just want to be able to train. Without the desire to rip all your clothes off and fuck you on the floor.”
“I don’t know what to say. Maybe we both need a cold shower, and to try and keep it as professional as possible in future. No matter how difficult that might be. I don’t want you to do anything to jeopardise the happiness you have at home.”
“I won’t,” she said, sounding certain. “I can control this. I just need to avoid draping myself over you in future.” She picked up her bag and slung the strap over one shoulder. “I’ll go shower and tell Tommy you’ll be up soon.”
“Thanks,” I said, and then she was gone leaving me with a great desire to bathe myself in ice cold water for the foreseeable future.
As it turned out, once I’d showered and dressed, any longing I felt was buried deep inside me as I walked through the busy office building owned by my friend Thomas Carpenter.
Technically it’s two buildings, one was three stories and the other twenty-five, joined together by a walkway above the staff parking area outside. I looked out of a nearby window, down at the smaller of the two buildings. It’s the only entrance to the larger building, and includes enough security to make getting into the White House seem like a walk in the park. Six lifts, all glass except for the floor and ceiling, each containing a thermal imaging unit and metal detector. Runes, carved into the very structure of the building, ensured that no one could use their abilities unless authorised. I looked down at the small bracelet on my wrist; the runes carved into the wooden beads allowed me to access my magic. Each staff member wore one, even the humans, so that no one could be identified from appearance alone. Each bracelet was designed for that person only, and not all bracelets were created equal.
The larger building had a similar rune structure, carved into the steel and concrete. And it wasn’t overkill. My friend Thomas, or Tommy as he liked to be known, was a Private Investigator, or used to be. Now he runs his own investigations firm, and he’s managed to piss off a lot of powerful people in the process.
But none of the measures were there to protect him. As a six-hundred-plus-year-old werewolf, he’s quite capable of taking care of himself. But he’d never have forgiven himself if his people got hurt because of a lack of care and protection.
I made my way through to the lifts, saying hello to the various people who knew me, and gaining a few odd glances from those who didn’t. When everyone else is wearing smart suits, the man wearing jeans, a hooded top, and carrying a leather biker jacket sort of stands out.
As the lift doors opened, revealing the mirrored walls inside, another loudspeaker announcement sounded. “Can Mr. Garrett please go to the employee parking lot?”
I stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the ground floor. I had no idea what Tommy wanted, but I was already certain it wasn’t going to be good.
By the time I’d reached the smaller building, I’d already devised a dozen scenarios in which Tommy asked me to do something either ridiculous or dangerous. Probably a combination of the two.
I walked along a curved corridor of the smaller building, passing armed guards. I occasionally glanced down through the glass sides at the reception below, until I reached a set of lifts. The green button lit up when I pressed it, flashing slowly as the lift made its way up the three floors toward me. The reception lifts moved slower than the normal ones, and had glass walls, so that the occupants could be monitored.
I took the lift down to the reception and said hi to a few more people as I left through one of the two revolving doors and into the parking lot outside. I found Tommy and Sara standing beside a large, black Toyota Hilux truck. They were deep in conversation which stopped when Tommy saw me.
Sara had changed into a blue blouse, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She glanced up as Tommy threw something at me, which I caught one handed. A set of car keys.
“Are we going somewhere nice?” I asked.
“Sara, can you give us a moment?” he asked.
Sara walked away to a respectable distance, before playing with her phone and pretending that she wasn’t trying to listen in to Tommy and me.
“I need your help,” Tommy said.
I raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you need my help?” I gestured to the building behind me. “There are a dozen people in there that would die for the chance to help you.”
“I need someone I can trust, no matter what happens.”
“Why? What’s going to happen, Tommy?”
He at least had the decency to look outraged. “Nothing,” he sighed. “It’s recon work I agreed to do to help a client. And I want you to be my backup.”
“Fifteen years ago a nasty little bastard by the name of Neil Hatchell attacked and raped seven women. He got out of prison two weeks ago.”
“There’s more to this, I assume.”
“He’s a werewolf, and after he was done beating each of his victims half to death, he bit them. Three died from the change and another one killed herself when she couldn’t cope with what she’d become. He was charged by Avalon with seven counts of rape, three of murder, one destruction of a mind and seven of gene manipulation without consent.”
“So, why isn’t he dead?” I asked. Avalon doesn’t exactly look fondly on crimes like his. In fact it was a surprise that Neil had been arrested at all. Normally the LOA aren’t shy about ending problems on a more permanent basis.
“No idea. Instead they stuck him in the Hole. Third floor.”
The Hole was a prison on an isolated island in the North Atlantic. It’s not on any maps, and has a permanent no-fly zone around it for anyone not associated with Avalon. It’s also one of only three prisons with enough capabilities to handle even the most powerful of creatures. It consists of ten floors, the more dangerous you are the higher the number, and the further underground you’re kept. The first seven are guarded night and day, the last three are left unguarded and it’s up to the prisoners to rule themselves. No one in their right mind wants to be placed down there. I’ve been down there twice. Once I almost didn’t make it back out, and the second time was even less fun.
“Bet that wasn’t a picnic. How the hell did he get out after only fifteen years? He should have served over two hundred years for the deaths alone.”
“Again, no idea. But he’s out and officially can’t be touched, he’s served his time and is a free man. Unofficially… well that’s where we come in. My client wants him checked out. So I want to bring you and Sara with me.”
“You want us to go pay him a visit and make sure he’s behaving himself? So why is Sara coming?”
“She’s my assistant. She’s been here two months, and she hasn’t accompanied anyone on assignment. She needs to know the type of work we do. I figure with me and you there, there’s nowhere safer for her to be.”
“Except in the office here,” I pointed out. “She’s not ready.”
“Is that Nate the fully trained, professional problem solver talking, or Nate’s penis?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “My penis hasn’t done a lot of talking lately.”
“She has a boyfriend.”
“Thank you for the relationship advice,” I said. “I know this already. Nothing has happened between us, nor will it. But if something bad happens, she’s had no weapons training.”
“You’ll keep her safe, and you know it.” He turned and walked back toward his truck, waving at Sara to come and join him. He opened the door for her to get in and I sighed and followed. Tommy was right, although I’d have never told him that. Sara did need the experience.
As I opened the driver’s door, I saw a big beaming smile on Tommy’s stupid, smug face, and I already knew I was going to regret saying ‘yes’.
Montana Territory, America. 1878
The bear was huge. Even compared to other grizzlies, it would have been considered a monster. I’d seen several of her kind since arriving in Montana. And so long as I kept my distance and avoided them, they tended to do the same with me. Something told me I wasn’t going to be as lucky this time. There was a cub.
I leaned forward and brushed the neck of the young, palomino mustang I rode. She had been an expensive purchase, but, as I’d discovered, well worth the money. She was even-tempered, but kept some of the fire I’d heard her breed was capable of. Above all, she was hard to spook. She’d stood her ground when there’d been predators or hunters nearby. It made her seem almost fearless, hence her name—Valour.
The bear stalked forward, putting herself between her cub and the perceived threat. She was maybe thirty feet away and a low growl sounded in her throat, the moonlight only serving to enhance its resonating power it. I couldn’t see how this would end well.
“Not here to hurt you, girl,” I said softly. I knew talking to the bear was useless, but damn if I had any better ideas. I wanted to get down from Valour, to prepare for any confrontation, but that might be seen as an aggressive response and trigger the very fight I was trying to avoid.
Outrunning the beast was impossible. With me on her back, Valour was no match for the grizzly over short distances and we wouldn’t get enough of a head start to make a difference in the long run, not to mention that the surroundings hardly afforded Valour a good escape. I pulled the reins, moving Valour further back into the stream, leaving a few dozen meters between us and the bear. I’d only stopped for a drink, and to catch a few fish, thinking we’d be gone before any local wildlife would notice us.
The bank on the far side was home to several huge trees and bordered by a fifty-foot-high cliff. There was a slope that led up toward the top of the cliff, but it was a hundred feet up the bank and there was nowhere to gain an advantage and get to higher ground before then.
The bear took a few more steps forward and splashed at the water, her eyes never leaving Valour and me.
“Don’t make me kill you, girl,” I said. “I don’t want to make an orphan of your cub there.” If she charged, I knew I could kill her, but killing an animal for wanting to protect herself and her cub hardly seemed fair. Unfortunately simple warning wasn’t going to deter the grizzly if her mind was set on a fight.
The bear rose on her hind legs, all eight feet of solid muscle, razor sharp claws and teeth glistening in the moonlight. She roared.
In the dead of night, and so close to the cliff wall, the sound was much more ferocious than it might have otherwise been. It reverberated all around me, and Valour shied back a few steps, her head raised high, until I calmed her once more.
The bear moved forward and roared again. Violence was coming, I was certain of it. I’d have to orphan the cub, which would be its death sentence. More humane just to put it out of its misery.
The bear tensed to charge and a massive explosion of noise sounded above us, a second following a moment later. Gunshots. The bear turned and ran back into the woods, the cub quickly following in its mother’s wake, the need to fight overridden by the need to get as far away from the noise as possible.
I led Valour onto the bank with the high cliff and dismounted as a third shot rang out. A fourth was right above where I stood. In my experience, hunters don’t usually run after their prey, shooting the whole time.
I guided Valour into the nearby tree line, hoping to avoid a confrontation if the gun wielders ran down the slope from the top of the cliff toward the stream. I heard a crash high above me.
I stepped back and craned my neck to get a better look as something tumbled through the top of the nearest tree, breaking through the branches as it fell. It wasn’t until he was halfway down that I saw it was a human boy.
White glyphs immediately blared across the back of my hands, moving up my wrists before vanishing from view under my coat sleeves. I raised my hands, palms out toward the boy, blasting a torrent of air to cushion his fall. There was little I could do about the larger branches without hurting him too, but he only hit the floor with a small bump, and was immediately followed by hundreds of leaves and twigs.
I dashed over and found him lying on his back. Blood soaked one side of his face, covering his shoulder and half of his chest. There was a nasty cut just above his temple. It wasn’t life-threatening, cuts to the head always look worse than they inevitably are, but it still needed to be cleaned and closed.
The bigger problem was the damage the hard branches had done on his way down. Whilst his arms and legs weren’t broken, when I touched his ribs he stirred slightly and winced, before quickly slipping back into unconsciousness. The ribs were either broken or badly bruised and I hoped he hadn’t punctured a lung. A wound I’d seen happen before with broken ribs, and in many circumstances a death sentence this far from anything resembling a doctor.
“Hey, you,” a man shouted.
I turned to watch two men on horses trot toward me. One had a revolver out and ready to use; I recognised it as an Army Colt.
“Step away from the boy,” he said, his voice rough and deep.
The second man just sat in the saddle of his brown horse and watched. A sparkle of metal shone on his lapel when the moonlight touched it. A sheriff’s badge.
“He’s hurt,” I said, and stepped between the armed men and the unconscious boy.
“He’s a thief and a murderer,” the armed man said, moving his horse closer. “And you will hand him over to us.”
“To shoot while he’s unconscious?”
The man’s eyes narrowed and he pulled his jacket aside. “You see this badge? It says I’m a deputy sheriff. My friend over there is a deputy, too. The boy is a criminal, and we’ll kill him any way we can. Now move aside.”
“I don’t care about your badge,” I said. “I’m not about to hand over a badly hurt boy to be executed. I’ll take him to town. If he is what you say, he’ll see justice.”
The armed deputy pointed the Colt at me. “You’ll move aside and allow us to take him, or we’ll go through you.”
The second man’s hand had dropped to his gun, which was still holstered. My Winchester rifle was still in its own holster, attached to the side of the Valour, along with my Jian, a Chinese sword.
I stepped aside, seemingly to allow the deputy access to the boy, but it put me next to Valour. The man nodded curtly as he turned his attention to his prey, giving me time to grab the sheathed Jian and slam the hilt into his throat as he rode past. I spun, dragging one of the two silver daggers out of the blade holster on the small of my back, and threw it at the second man. The blade missed his head by a hair’s width, but it had the desired effect of making him lose his concentration. And the next thing he knew, the end of my Winchester rifle’s barrel was pressed firmly against his nose.
“Make a move and you’ll find a big hole where your face used to be,” I said, dragging an identical Colt from the deputy’s holster and flinging it into the woods behind him.
His partner’s horse trotted past, the unconscious deputy slumped forward. “I’d leave now and go help your friend,” I said.
“This isn’t over,” he said.
“It is for today. Now leave. If this boy did as you say, I’ll bring him in myself.”
“You have the authority to do that?” he asked incredulously.
I removed the barrel from his nose. “You have no idea of my authority. Get out of my damn sight.”
I watched the deputy guide his partner’s horse back into the woods away from us. I doubted they were the type of people who kept their promises, and I wanted to be far away before they decided on a repeat performance. I walked over to the boy and looked down at him. A murderer and thief. He opened one eye—the other was already swelling closed.
“Who are you?” he asked, his words broken as he spoke through the pain.
“Nathan Garrett,” I said. “You’re safe now.”
“I’m Sam,” he said softly, before passing out once more, and leaving me with one burning thought.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
That right, I’ve finally sorted out a date for Born of Hatred, the sequel to Crimes Against Magic. And that date is… 16 December 2012.
This week and next I’ll be posting the prologue and first few chapters for people to read. I’ll also be announcing a competition next week for one lucky person to win some pretty cool stuff, and the only way you can win will be to know the answer to a question about Crimes Against Magic.
To celebrate the release of Born of Hatred, Crimes Against Magic will be reduced to $2.99 (£1.87). This will be for a limited time only, so if you’re interested in cool stuff and haven’t already purchased, or read, your copy you may want to do so. No pressure or anything.
Today, I’d like to welcome Chrissey Harrison to my blog. Chrissey is a writer and editor and has put together an incredible list of talent in one anthology, which she’s here to talk to everyone about. The floor is all yours, Chrissey.
Hi Steve, thanks for the warm welcome.
Crowdfunding is the hot topic at the moment. Rather than relying on a single investor, a bank loan or tapping out your savings to produce your book, comic, film or whatever, why not get your fans to fund you? The idea is really taking off and at The Great Escape http://thegreatesc.com , we decided to give it a go by raising funds on Kickstarter for our first anthology: Great Escapes | Volume 1
About Great Escapes | Volume 1
A collection of fiction, of all shapes and sizes, with the power to transport you to another time and place. From creepy horror to sweet romance, this first anthology of Great Escapes is just the thing to help you escape reality for a few moments at a time.
The book brings together all of the fiction showcased on The Great Escape during our first year, along with new contributions from new authors, gorgeous illustrations by artist Kat Wilson and cover photography by Jeff Waye.
This is going to be the first of many yearly anthologies, or fiction annuals as I like to think of them.
Why Raise Funds?
Self-publishing in eBook form has truly revolutionised the publishing industry because of the lack of overheads; you don’t have to invest large sums up front and you don’t end up with your investment tied up in stock waiting to be sold. However, we wanted to do more than release an eBook, we wanted to offer the contributors the chance to appear in a printed book, and to do that we needed a certain number of pre-orders to finance a print run. Kickstarter provided us with a platform for gathering those pre-orders.
What About Print on Demand?
It’s true that print on demand has enabled a lot of self-published authors to offer print versions. However, even compared to a short digital print run of 100 copies, the cost per unit is significantly higher. I wanted the opportunity to offer the contributors royalties from the book profits, and the high production cost of POD wouldn’t have allowed for that. By going for a print run, I can split approximately half of the book’s cover price between the contributors.
Our Kickstarter Project
Initially we wanted to keep the Kickstarter project simple, but we had such a positive initial response that we decided to add further rewards including numbered limited edition hardbacks, original artwork from illustrator Kat and my personal favourite, the “Round the World Book Tour” (which is still up for grabs as I write this).
While we’ve already hit our funding target, the more pre-orders we receive, the more we can do to ensure the book is a success, and some of the rewards will only be available through Kickstarter. The campaign ends on 5th December, so there’s still time to make a pledge and pre-order a copy. Make sure you check out the Kickstarter Project page and the project updates.
An Invitation to Writers
Thanks again to Steve for hosting this post. I hope you’ll check out the book and, if anyone would like to ask questions or share their opinions on crowdfunding for publishing projects, feel free to drop me an email at The Great Escape. We also have a discussion thread on our forum or you can find us on Twitter or Facebook.