Amber Green - Inside the Blurb

All right! Today, Amber Green is here talking about the easy way to write a blurb. I've also posted the info about her new release, Turncoat!  If you love Amber's books be sure and grab your copy of Turncoat.
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WRITING A BLURB IN FIVE STEPS

For some markets, you might be allowed only 120 words to engage the potential reader, while the most generous spaces rarely allow more than 200 words. How do you choose, allocate, and arrange these precious few words?

Start with either the SETTING or the PRIMARY PROTAGONIST.

PRIMARY PROTAGONIST

The protagonist is the person who makes the story go; he isn’t necessarily the narrator or point-of-view (POV) character. Watson is not the protagonist of the Sherlock Holmes stories. Normally, you should lay out the protagonist’s full name along with two or three words of description. Each word of the description should have the resonance and relevance of a blog’s keyword, of a library’s subject catalog, of an Amazon tag. Physical descriptions might come to mind, but should be used only to the extent the physical description hints at the story’s conflict or stakes. If you had only six words to describe Spock, would you waste one on his hair? Medusa, on the other hand, cannot be clearly imagined without mention of her hair. If you have a reason not to categorize the protagonist so completely, allocate part of his space to identifying (and characterizing) a second character in terms of his or her relationship to the protagonist. If you have a romance in which two protagonists play equal roles, the primary protagonist for the purpose of the blurb is the character who has the most to lose in the first half of the book.

SETTING

These lines orient the reader to the reality of the story--to be specific, the reality of the first half of the book. If the reality shifts halfway through that first half, such would happen if the primary protagonist were shipped off to school or enlisted in the military, focus on the second of those realities. Ten to twenty words is necessary and sufficient; at least two of them should be keywords. You can then spend another ten to fifteen words to show how the primary protagonist fits into that reality. Think in terms of sentence fragments instead of sentences, so that you can rearrange them more easily. Choose details carefully to create a mood--which must echo the mood of the story itself--and remember to include keywords. You might combine these bits of sentences with those used for the primary protagonist, but for your first draft, keep the setting in a separate paragraph until you’re satisfied with it.

SECOND CHARACTER

After having introduced the primary protagonist and the setting, you can describe a second major character. If the second character has POV scenes, and if you have room, introduce him much like the first. If not, give him much less attention. Either way, focus exclusively on details that reflect on his relationship to the primary protagonist or to the primary conflict of the story. A second character is not an essential part of every blurb.

COUNTERFORCE AND STAKES

What is the primary protagonist up against? What happens if he fails? If your story has an actual villain as the antagonist, she deserves almost (but not quite) the same level of introduction as the protagonist. If the protagonist got four key words, the villain gets three. An antagonistic force, though, should only be described to the extent you can do so in vivid, concrete terms. One trick here is to focus on the counterforce that the characters actively face in the first half of the book. Do no more than allude to what they must contend with after reaching what they thought would be their goal, after their reality and goals shift in the middle of the book. Whether to focus on the primary protagonist or on the characters as a pair (or group) in this section is a delicate choice; whichever you choose, make the same choice for the counterforce and for the stakes. Sometimes you can leave the stakes implicit, but more often the consequences of failure make your strongest hook. Ending your blurb with a yes-or-no question risks insulting and alienating the potential reader. If the answer is obvious, strike the question.

EDIT

Highlight your keywords. No more than twelve words should separate any keyword from the next. If you count more, you need to reword, rearrange, or trim out the excess wordage. Echoing a keyword more than once is good, but if you repeat a keyword, make sure the second appearance of the word adds or clarifies a connotation not apparent in the first usage. Do the mood, tone, and vocabulary reflect the essence of the story? If not, reword. Now, count your words. If you’re over your limit but love the blurb as it is, save a copy for use elsewhere (like a loop chat) and cut ruthlessly until you reach your limit. If you’re under your word limit but within 20% of it, such as when you have 164 words and a 200-word limit, you're fine--don’t puff the blurb just to come closer to the size limit.

Sleep on it. Come back to your blurb on a different day, if at all possible. Shorten the sentences where you can. A sentence with multiple commas probably needs trimming or breaking up. Read the blurb out loud. Is the focus where you want it? Does the tone strongly echo your story’s tone? Does the last line entice the potential reader to head for the checkout? Trim and reword and rearrange until the answers are all yes. Then call it good.
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Turncoat (Turn and Turner) by Amber Green

Nine months ago, Ken Turner and his lover, FBI agent Turner “Turn” Scott, handed in enough evidence to bring federal charges against KT’s stepfather, but Father escaped to Mexico. When Mexicans kidnap Turn, KT desperately smuggles himself across the country to seek help from a man out of Turn’s past. A man whose photo Turn still cherishes. A man who, KT finds, has crossed the border and now contends with KT’s stepfather and other drug lords for leadership of their cartel.

To survive, the drug lords must know which parts of their networks have been compromised. Turner Scott has that information. One of the drug lords has Turn. Another has KT. The third knows KT might be Turner Scott’s only weakness.

But Turn himself doesn't know whether his hunger for justice is stronger than his taboo love for KT.

Amazon
ARe

Amber's Website

And Now for The Fabulous Ethan Day and Anything for You!!

First let me say thanks to Jadette for kindly having me over to talk a bit about the inside-the-author/ behind-the-scenes skiny that went into the making of my latest release, Anything for You – now available from MLR Press. 

Whenever I start a new book, it usually jumps off with some little kernel of an idea, which in this case sprang from my desire to write a coming out romantic comedy. Not usually the first thought that springs to mind when one thinks about a Rom-Com. But that was the challenge of it for me - to do a story in this sub-genre, while not making fun of the coming out process. I wanted to use the subject matter to set up the barriers which I would then be required to write around. 

Before I could go any further, I then had to figure out who my characters were. I’ve known a lot of closeted guys over the last 20 years, many of whom have had an acidic personality. Obviously some people are just that way naturally – nothing wrong with that as long as it makes you happy. : ) But many of these men were simply nice guys who were, from my own perceptions, a little poisoned by the fact they were either unable or unwilling to come out of the closet. This made them NOT the most positive people to be around. This type of guy was my inspiration for Jason. A good guy trapped in a bad situation. Unfortunately Jason doesn’t handle himself very well, he’s kinda bitter – which has made him a teensy bit snarky…which is where I found the basis for much of the humor. 

Jason wants to be happy for all his friends who are out, and happily co-existing in healthy relationships, but he can’t seem to get himself there. He’s aware that he’s being an asshole much of the time, but as he admits to himself toward the beginning of the story, “It’s difficult to stop doing something when it feels so good.” That makes him unlike the typical romantic hero. He isn’t always so sweet or all that deserving, but that doesn’t mean love won’t come calling all the same. This book was the result of what I imagined a romantic comedy would result in for this type of character.

Jason’s the type of guy who screws things up on a daily basis only to turn around and pull out the grand gesture that inevitably keeps him from getting dumped on his ass. For me, it was in those same grand gestures where I found his truth – the very redeemable real man hiding inside. He was biding his time until the right guy came along and shook him out of his complacency.

While he’s not always so easy to love, I do think he’s very funny and hugely entertaining. I hope everyone else does as well! : ) 

Book Link: http://www.mlrbooks.com/ShowBook.php?book=EDANYFOR

 

Website Link: http://ethanday.com/

Promotional Blurb:

Jason Miller is still in the closet. He's never found a reason to kick the door open, walk into the light of day, and tell the world he's gay. At least that's what he keeps telling himself -- along with a multitude of other solid arguments. As an ad man, he's used to hawking a bill of goods, he just never imagined he'd fall victim to his own hype.

When ex-activist/coming out guru, Chad Wellington came along, he was the one thing Jason never saw coming. Like a moth to a flame these two opposites ignite leaving Jason to decide if he can handle the heat.

Excerpt:

As the two of us walked through the front door, I could smell a unique blend of Thai spices wafting out from the kitchen mixed with the faint aroma of the expensive leather coming from the living room furniture.

“They’re here!” Trent ran over with a cocktail in hand.

He looked a little too monochromatic with his light brown hair, brown corduroy pants, and a cream-colored silk shirt.

I shook my head disapprovingly. That boy will wear silk with anything. You’re supposed to be trying that whole nice thing, remember asshole? I reminded myself.

I glanced down, taking a second to concentrate on the warm hues of the slate tile under my feet. I threw on a forced smile, trying to ignore the fact it felt fake as all hell, before meeting Trent’s gaze. He had that judgy little smirk, like he could see right through me.

Screw it, no one can hear my thoughts anyway… The mere fact I actually have friends is proof of that.

The longer he dated my best friend, the more irritating Trent became to me. Like one of those commercials made more annoying thanks to the cheesy theme song that gets stuck in your head. Even though you hate the commercial, you end up singing along with it anyway.

His blue eyes were a little too blue. I suspected colored lenses, though he denied it. I was totally jealous of his perfect eyebrows. They had that slight Jack Nicholson arch—not too bushy, not too thin. I knew he plucked, but he vehemently denied that, too. 

“Here, drink this quick,” Trent said, thrusting a martini glass at me.

“What?” I asked, beginning to laugh.

“Come on, suck it down,” Trent said. “They don't call you Cumbalina for nothing.”

I decided to let that bit of snark go and took the glass from him. I hadn’t planned to begin anesthetizing myself until well after dinner; that would’ve been rude. My momma raised me right! Even so, I complied joyfully, wondering what I’d done to get so lucky, as I sucked down the delicious appletini.

“Okay, why the rush to get me drunk?” I asked, handing the now empty glass back to Trent. “I’ve already told you I’m not going to be your houseboy.”

“Oh sweetie…you should be so lucky,” he said. “No babe, I invited an old friend of mine from college along for the weekend. His name is Chad and I thought the two of you would be perfect for each other. Knowing you the way I do, I thought you’d take the news better after a nice, cool cocktail.”

“Oh shit,” I said. “Please tell me you didn’t bring me up here for a blind date?”

“He could.” Brent shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. “But he’d be totally lying.”

“And Chad is totally hot.” Trent gave me his evil eye. “You’d better be nice to him!” He turned to Brent. “He’s been so cranky lately.”

Brent shook his head at his boyfriend. “Did you really think one cocktail would have any effect? He’s like one step away from needing twelve.”

“Excuse me!” I smacked Brent in the stomach, hard enough to make him cough.

“Of course not, honey,” Trent said, rolling his eyes. “That’s why I crushed up one of my Valiums and mixed it in with his drink.”

“You did what?” Brent’s eyes widened. “You should have checked with me first. He can’t take Valium. He has an allergic reaction—it makes him stupid.”

“Good Christ!” I reached out to rest my hand on the wall as if it were the only thing holding me upright. “I haven’t been in the damn door five minutes and you’ve ambushed me with a sacrificial man and poisoned me! Why not give me ecstasy? I’d be nice and randy for just about anyone!”

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?” Trent shrugged, looking at Brent and completely ignoring me. “If he weren’t such a goddamn freak, I wouldn’t have had to drug the son of a bitch in the first place.”

“Hey!” I scowled at Trent and then shoved him. “Giving me a friggin’ poisoned apple—what are you, my wicked stepmother!?!”

Trent reached over and shoved me back. “I know, go stick your finger down your throat.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” a voice called out from the living room.

The three of us stood up straight, eyes wide like three deer in the forest that just sniffed out a mountain lion. Rick and Jim were standing in the kitchen entryway, peeking around the corner at us, laughing hysterically. Chad turned red, obviously realizing he’d walked in on something.

“Oh…um.” Trent held out his hand for Chad. “I’d like you to meet Brent’s best friend, Jason.”

Chad and his enormous blue eyes made their way over to us. He had sandy brown hair that was slightly disheveled and too long, but in that intentional way. Judging by what I could see of it, he also had a fan-freakin’tastic body to boot. His voice was deep, kind of Clooney, and I knew instantly if I ever heard it in the dark, I’d do whatever it commanded. He wore rumpled khaki cargos, brown leather sandals, and a wife beater.

I could feel that I was grinning like a newly crowned Miss America, but I couldn’t manage to control myself. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Chad took a few steps toward the three of us and gently wrapped my hand up in both of his. I sort of chuckled like a goofy teenager for a moment before correcting myself and butching things back up.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” I directed a nasty glare at Trent.

“It’s nice to meet you as well.” Chad smiled like he had a secret. “Did I interrupt something here?”

“Oh no,” Brent jumped in, “I was just telling Trent that Jason is super wiped out. Work was hell for the boy this week. He’s exhausted, could barely keep his eyes open on the drive up.”

“Yes,” Trent said, “and I promised to get some food in him and send him directly to bed.”

“Trent,” Jim called out from the kitchen, “don’t forget Chad and Jason are sharing a room, remember? The other two spares are still torn up—mid-renovation and all.”

“I hope that’s okay?” Chad asked. “I’m afraid I may have invited myself last minute.”

Great, I thought, no telling what he’ll hear coming out of my mouth throughout the night.

“Of course I don’t mind, I mean we’re all adults here. Well maybe not all of us.” I glared once more at Trent who sneered back at me this time. “I just hope I don’t keep you awake with all my snoring.” Look at it this way, the drugs will keep me from being a slut, at least for the first night.

“I’d certainly hate for it to be your snoring that kept me awake all night as well.” Chad smiled.

Copyright 2011. Ethan Day.

Is it wrong to have someone to love AND take care of you? ~ Rawiya

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Dear Friend Ash Penn and Passing Time

Passing Time began life as a short story I wrote way back in 2008. It was a May to December romance but the lack of conflict in the story made me set it aside in my stalled story folder  until 2010 when I finally found it again while browsing through past work. When I reread the story I found that although it had potential, it needed a little something extra to bring it to life. The extra something turned out to be a new character by the name of Carter. Carter was the love of Louis’s life and sadly died ten years into their relationship.  He’s a little bit different from the characters I usually write, mostly because he’s dead. He’s also completely invisible to anyone but my MC, Louis, the older man of the story. I can’t decide, and I don’t know if I ever will decide, if Carter is actually a ghost or just a figment of Louis’s imagination. 

The actual love story is between Louis, a man closing in on middle age who’s let himself go a bit in the two years since his lover passed away, and Jake, the younger man who gives him a reason to live again. I guess that makes the story sound as though it’s full of angst and grieving but it’s a more light-hearted than that. It’s more of a gentle romance detailing how Jake manages to coax Louis back into the realm of the living rather than loitering in the shadows with the dead.   

Website

Loose Id - Passing Time 

Blurb

When world-weary Louis Duncan returns to the English town where he grew up, the last thing on his mind is finding love. He's come home to be at his estranged mother's side as she lies comatose in a hospital bed.

The always-sunny barman Jake Harvey yearns to offer Louis much more than a willing ear. After an evening of too much wine, too much Indian take-out, and too much of Jake's soft lips, Louis succumbs to the young man's charms. Jake proves to be a passionate lover as well as a loyal friend.

When his mother’s condition deteriorates, Louis leans on Jake to help him through the difficulty of another loss. The love of his life died two years before, but to Louis he remains every bit alive as Jake. He and Carter continue to chat, smoke together, even argue over whether Louis is living or merely existing. They do everything as they always did, except have sex. Now, despite Carter urging him to take the risk, can Louis give up his first real love and take his chances with the living?

Excerpt

Toward the end of yet another tedious day, Louis Duncan found himself wandering streets he’d not trekked in twenty years. Since his unexpected return to his hometown, he’d tried a variety of the pubs and bars that had sprung up along the High Street in his absence, but only one managed to draw his attention night after night.


The Prince of Wales public house had undergone a total transformation since the dark and dingy days of his youth. It was now a classy-looking modern bar called Harvey’s. Wood paneling and floor-to-ceiling windows had taken the place of the traditional beer-and-nicotine-stained walls Louis recalled as being off-limits to a teenager looking younger than his years.

The usual hum of voices permeated the low-level music as he entered the bar and approached the array of bottles. He took a moment to scan the various spirits, although he never ordered anything other than a large bourbon.

“Hey, Lou.” The barman, Jake, greeted him as though Louis had been a regular for years. “How’s your mum?”

Louis had spent most of the day at her side, the rhythmic chug and beep of the complicated machinery keeping him company. Occasionally a nurse would rustle up a coffee, and a doctor might pop in to update him on her progress, but apart from that the only conversation he’d shared these past couple of weeks was with a fresh-faced, eternally cheerful barman.

“No change,” he said, catching the faint nasal vowels of his own adopted New York accent.

Already the longed-for bourbon, a drink he had yet to order, sat before him. For all his youth, this guy knew how to keep his customers happy. Louis lifted the glass and swallowed the contents, savoring the thin heat flaming down into his belly.

“Another?” Jake asked, already reaching for the drained glass.

Louis smiled. For reasons unknown to himself, he always tried to arrange his features into an expression that might pass for pleasant with this particular guy. “Thanks, Jake.”

Jake returned the smile and then turned away to fetch the bourbon, affording Louis a prime view of plump ass. He wasn’t totally desensitized to the allure of a well-presented body.

“Cute,” Carter said softly, taking a perch on the stool next to Louis’s.

“I’m a little long in the tooth for cute.” Louis glanced at his lover, a handsome, smartly dressed man with a shock of sandy hair. Carter grinned, his gray eyes bright and mischievous, exactly like the man he was before the illness had yellowed his skin and ravaged his body to a wispy husk.

“You’re a little long in the tooth for spending yet another evening alone in a bar, but that doesn’t seem to bother you so much.”

Louis hunched forward on his stool. “Every day I get to sit by and watch the mother I haven’t spoken to in twenty years slip closer to death. I think I’ve earned myself a few lousy drinks, don’t you?”

“You don’t think you might have earned yourself more? A shot of that, perhaps?” Carter gestured to the barman on his return.

“Only you, my love,” Louis muttered as Jake set a fresh bourbon in front of him.

“Sorry?”

Louis glanced up to meet Jake’s curious gaze. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

“Is that something you do a lot?”

“More than I should.” Louis was long past caring whether he looked like a fool or a loon.

“Do you answer yourself too?”

Louis shook his head. “Now that would make me insane.” He tried another of his smiles, but his lips refused to tilt.

“Well, I’m here,” Jake leaned his arms on the bar, all traces of humor gone. “If you feel like talking to someone.”

Louis laughed. “Haven’t I bent your ear enough these past couple of weeks?”

“With that accent you can bend my ear any time you like.” Jake gazed at him, although to Louis it felt more like a stare. Did he expect an answer? A few more bourbons, and perhaps Louis might have one for him, but not tonight.

He downed his drink and reached for the wallet in his jacket pocket. “How much do I owe?” he asked in his best business voice.

Jake waved a hand. “On the house.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Louis took out a note anyway. “I wouldn’t want you getting yourself fired because of me.”

“That’s not likely to happen. I have a very understanding boss.”

Louis set the note on the bar. “No boss is that understanding.”

“Mine is.” Jake slid the note right back. “Did I never tell you my last name?” He grinned. “It’s Harvey. My dad owns the place.”

He’d not mentioned it, but then Louis had no cause to ask. “Still, I’d rather pay what I owe.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Jake took the ten pounds, folded it neatly, and leaned over to slot it into Louis’s shirt pocket. “Why don’t you repay my hospitality by taking me out sometime?”

He stroked a thumb across Louis’s nipple through the cotton. Louis pulled back as a jolt of pleasure tingled down his body.

What was this? Flirting? No. No, it was part of the job to amuse the sad fucks who visited bars alone in order to drink themselves senseless before bedtime.

“I don’t think that’s… Uh, actually, I’ve been thinking about heading back to New York in a week or so.” It was the best—the only—excuse he could come up with on such short notice. “That’s if nothing improves with my mom.”

“A week’s a long time.” Jake leaned closer, a flirty sparkle lighting the depths of his eyes. “Besides, I’ll be heading back to uni myself soon.”

What was he after? A quick fumble with an older man? Something to joke about in the lecture halls to entertain the crowds on a wet Wednesday afternoon?

“If you’re not busy later tonight,” Jake said, casting a lazy gaze down Louis’s chest, “I know of an incredible Indian takeaway up the road.”

“To take away where?” As soon as the words were out, Louis winced. He’d lumbered straight into that one.

A faint blush rose to Jake’s cheeks. “Well, I’m staying with my parents for the summer, but, I mean, you’ve got your apartment and…” He obviously hoped Louis would fill in the blanks.

Louis forced a laugh. “And with that, I think I’ll be going.” He gripped the bar top as he made to slip off the stool. A hand closed over his own. It surprised him, the only body contact he’d had lately, not counting his holding mother’s withered hand, or Carter’s feathery yet imagined caresses. Jake’s hand sat on his, warm and weighty. Louis studied the fine blond hairs, the short, trimmed nails. He raised his head to find Jake staring back with something like lust smoldering behind those blue eyes.

“Red or white?” Jake flicked out the tip of his tongue to wet his bottom lip.

“Huh?” What would that silky scrap of tongue feel like lapping at his balls?

“Wine. Which do you prefer?”

“Neither.” Louis pulled his hand away and took a step back. “I don’t touch the stuff.”

“You only drink bourbon?”

“Pretty much.”

“Your liver must love you,” Jake said, collecting up the empty glass.

“My liver and I get along great. Catch you later.”

“Here’s hoping.” Jake grinned.

Louis hurried for the exit.