We the Enemy is launched!
Okay, I’m pretty excited by this, so please bear with me. After an investment of 10 years and considerable bucks on professional editorial input, I’ve put it out there. It’s available in paperback and ebooks of all sorts at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
In the tradition of FtQ, I offer below the first manuscript page. IF you want to turn the page, there’s a link that takes you to a 2-chapter sample. But first . . .
Hey, it’s just 99 cents!
All the ebook versions are priced at 99 cents—did you know that there’s a free Kindle reader for your computer? I want to make it as easy as possible to make readers familiar with my work, so this is partly a marketing effort. At very low risk, readers have a chance to discover a writer they like to read.
The paperback is cool
Yeah, I may be biased because it’s my design, but it’s a really nice book to have and to hold. The paperback isn’t 99 cents: it’s priced at $13.95--production and sales costs need to be covered.
Pass the word?
Whether you like this piece of my stuff or not, it’s possible that readers you know will. So please forward, tweet, or whatever this post to other readers. I thank you. My wife thanks you. My cat thanks you (by the way, you’re a lot better off if you stay on her good side).
Okay, flogging time
Even though We the Enemy is published, I can change it if I learn things that I want to incorporate. That’s the cool thing about ebooks and Print On Demand. So please read and comment as you will (and, hey, even if you vote to not turn the page, why not click the link and have a taste of a little more?).
And remember, this is “stuff.” It’s not about me, it’s about the words and how well they do or don’t work with you. Here goes . . .
Ray has sent the opening of We the Enemy, a near-future speculative thriller.
The young woman laughed and swung the child back and forth.
Words came from Jake, but he couldn’t make them out because they were muddied and slow, as if made of molasses.
The woman frowned at him. She pulled the child in and said underwater words that made no sense. The look on her face was angry. Wild.
A nasty mechanical buzz blasted him—his alarm clock yelling at him. Jake groped and turned it off, then realized that he was holding his breath, his jaws clenched.
As he did every morning, he turned to a snapshot in a plain black frame on his nightstand—Amy in her favorite flowery party dress, forever five years old. He touched the tiny silver crucifix hanging from the frame by its chain. Amy wore it in the picture.
Why could he see her face in the photo but not in his memory? The crucifix glittered, and he couldn’t look at her picture any more.
He swung out of bed and his foot came down on an empty wine bottle. God, his head hurt—the price of self-medication. He scowled at all the damn sunshine coming in the window.
Should he blow off his meeting with the attorney general of the Unites States? After she’d come all the way to Chicago to keep the meeting secret? Should he stiff a woman who has lots of (snip)
To turn the page, click here.
Thanks for reading and voting and commenting. And for spreading the word.
End of stuff promotion (for now).
Submitting to the Flogometer:
Email the following in an attachment (.doc, .docx, or .rtf preferred):
- your title
- your 1st chapter or prologue plus 1st chapter
- Please format with double spacing, 12-point font Times New Roman font, 1-inch margins.
- Please include in your email permission to post it on FtQ.
- And, optionally, permission to use it as an example in a book if that's okay.
- If you’re in a hurry, I’ve done “private floggings,” $50 for a first chapter.
- If you rewrite while you wait you turn, it’s okay with me to update the submission.
© 2011 Ray Rhamey