On Sunday, March 3, I’m hosting a small party on Facebook to celebrate the launch of IN THE BONES, my first published novel. Putting “published” in there sounds weird, but I can’t say it’s my first novel, because it isn’t. My first novel is atrocious and hides in my computer, chained to the wall of a deep, dark dungeon where all the bad stories go. The second novel, is coming out after IN THE BONES, and it’s much better than the first. This one is actually the seventh novel I’ve written. So, that’s why I say “first published.” Not that the explanation is really needed I suppose. Okay, I’ll stop rambling.

 

I hope you’ll all stop by and say hello. Everyone who at least says, “Hey, I’m here.” is entered into a giveaway. Participating in the event gives you more chances to win things like copies of IN THE BONES, Amazon gift cards (or Chapters or Kobo cards for Canadian friends should they prefer these), and cool jewellery I scavenged from various stores online.

 

Planning this event was interesting. First, I estimated the book to be released sometime in the second week of March. However, with the cover and editing finished earlier than planned, I could move forward with formatting and such. Still, I thought the wait for approval of the text, cover, etc. would take time. It didn’t. So the book has actually been available for a week already and I bumped the launch party up by two weeks.

 

Problem is, some of my planned goodies aren’t here yet. Sigh. I’m a terrible planner. I know that. Now you all do too. Let’s cross our fingers everything arrives in time and I won’t have to replace these goodies with something else. Lesson learned. I will be more organized when I release The Legend of Jackson Murphy. Oh yes, he’s coming to see you this summer.

 

Anyway, you’re all invited and I hope you’ll bring along some friends that enjoy tales of murder, corruption, and moose.

 

Not sure? Here’s a little peek:

 

The figure in the blue shit-box rifled around the passenger seat. Carroll shifted his feet. Mr. Cassidy should be eager to meet the elite of his new town, not pissing around. Good thing he had Fred bring the computers back yesterday. Carroll was almost blindsided by Melvin’s careful attention to details that would make his life difficult. Not only did the bastard include a list of his property but he also wrote out a list of files on the computer and laptop that he didn’t know Melvin had. Carroll had informed residents more than a year ago that Albertsville couldn’t get Internet, being too far out of the way for such things. How did Melvin of all people figure out the lie?

 

Carroll found the evidence, though, and it hadn’t been in any computer files. A plain white folder stuffed into the back of the grandfather clock, which was not included on Melvin’s list of property. Fucking Farley had bent the damn mechanism inside the clock while getting it out, but Carroll didn’t stress over that. This kid wouldn’t guess the clock had worked fine before Farley got his grubby hands on it. The files on the computer held nothing of significance. It annoyed Carroll that he’d wasted his time going through them.

 

The door opened and a tall, lanky figure emerged from the car. Carroll’s chest tightened and he pressed his lips to stop the profanity that leapt to the tip of his tongue. A ghost from his younger years stretched and smiled at him. Hate curled up and made itself comfortable in Carroll’s belly. Except for the tousled mane of sandy brown hair, Ryan Cassidy was the spitting image of his father and grandfather. The same sparkle that Carroll so hated in the elder Cassidys reflected in Ryan’s blue gaze, mocking him.

 

“Hello,” Ryan strode toward them.

 

His easy gait, so like Chad’s, sent Carroll’s stomach churning. The only man he’d ever envied had been Ryan’s father. Everything came to Chad naturally, everyone liked him, and he didn’t lift so much as a finger for their approval. Carroll had to work his ass off to get even a fraction of the respect they’d simply given to Chad. Christ, he never understood it. He had money, looks, and a first rate education. What did Chad have? Nothing. That damn shit-eating grin and those fucking eyes. He’d enjoyed every minute of Chad Cassidy’s death.

 

Stay tuned. Sometime over the next week or so, I’ll announce dates and locations for the blog tour. Yes, I’m doing one. (Eep!)