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Two days left in the Small Blogs Big Giveaways 3rd Edition! You can hop along and enter through September 23rd!  See the full list of participating blogs here! To enter for my bonus giveaway, the Smuggler’s Stash, see the sidebar or go to this post.

Now, as a paranormal romance author intent on building my career, I try to stay current on publishing news and updates from fellow authors no matter how they’re published.  Recently I read the rather bleak post on book promotion by Cory Doctorow. The post is clever and well-written, but shining a light on rather long odds doesn’t make them look any prettier.

As that post stuck with me, I realized that having a new release often makes me feel like I’m one more author shouting into the wind. “Look at me, buy my book!” Then another picture came to mind, a memory of a story from my long ago and oft mis-spent youth…

My first boyfriend’s mom was fantastic and one of the stories she shared has stayed with me all these years.

As she tells it, she was hosting a dinner party for her boss, colleagues, and clients. It was beyond important for her career. She told her children to stay downstairs in the rec-room (finished basement for those who don’t speak mid-western), stay inside, and stay QUIET.

She put her daughter, the oldest, in charge. They were probably 14 and 10 at the time. The youngest (my eventual boyfriend) kept taunting his sister, threatening to go outside, but his sister blocked the sliding glass door. Persistent as 10 year old boys are, he eventually slipped out, but then his sister wouldn’t let him back in.

There was a battle for control of the door and the ten year old stuck his arm through just as his sister slammed it closed. He shrieked. She shrieked and pulled the door off his arm.

He went racing off into the yard, his sister hot on his heels.

His mother, with a house full of business guests saw her son running circles in the yard, waving his mal-formed arm and screaming “My arm is bent! You bent my arm!” trying to get his sister in trouble. Naturally she was chasing after him trying to shut him up and stay out of trouble.

As a teenager, I thought it was hysterically funny even though his arm had been broken in two places (his mom was a great storyteller).

As a mother, I have a greater appreciation for just how many emotions she must have experienced at that precise moment. (she kept her cool and her job though the party got cut short).

As a paranormal romance author, I’ve discovered promoting a new release feels about the same as running around with a ‘bent’ arm. It feels like I’m running in circles, waving the book through the air, giddy with adrenaline, and hoping someone notices.

Live the adventure!

Hey, since you’re here, take a chance and check out my latest paranormal romance novels: Tracking Shadows if you want something edgy from 2096. Or if you’re in the mood for something lighter, try The Matchmaker’s Mark. (Neither book will break the bank, or your arm).