Tag Archives: It’s a trust thing

Book trailer for It’s A Trust Thing….

I’ve made so many great friends and met so many wonderful writers and people since I started my writing journey. Nancy Fraser is one of them. Not only is she an award winning writer, she’s also a damn fine graphic producer and artist. She made my book trailer to Dirty Damsels and did such a  great job I asked her to do one for my 11.1.19 release of It’s a Trust Thing. I think it captures the essence of the book perfectly. Have a gander:

Isn’t it great!!!??

Remember, It’s a Trust Thing is up for pre-order right now and will be available ONLY in Kindle and KU. And if you haven’t read DIRTY DAMSELS yet, let me whet your appetite with Nancy’s trailer for that book, too! Hee hee

Until next time ~ Peg

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If a picture is worth 1,000 words, does that mean a book cover is too?

Since I decided to self-pub IT’S A TRUST THING and I knew I had no real money to invest in a professional graphic book designer, I decided to try my hand at making my own book cover. Since I already do so much graphic stuff for book ads and for this blog, I thought it might be fun.

And it was.

It was also harrowing, mind boggling, and at times, infuriating. What makes a good, eye catching book cover to me, may not necessarily mean it does to you. Plus, since it’s a romance there are things that have to be incorporated into the cover so people who are glancing through Amazon new releases see it for what it is and not say, a murder mystery.

Here are a few of the covers I made before I decided on the one I finally put up: Oh, and the original title of the book was HELPFUL HUNKS, the name of Nell’s business. Since I didn’t talk too much about her business in the book, I figured it would be misleading to call it that.

So I liked this one until a friend of mine pointed out the lousy job ( my word, not hers!) I did of cutting and pasting the couple on the Brooklyn Bridge. I wanted the bridge on the cover because an important plot point concerns it, but with the lousy job I did of C/P I realized it looked sloppy.

I wanted this cover because it matched DIRTY DAMSELS, and kept the branding of the series intact. See:

But again, the sloppy cut and paste was glaring in this one.

I loved this cover when the title was Helpful hunks, but it didn’t fit in with the branding again, so I opted to use it in ads for the book instead. But I still love this cover!

This is the one I finally decided on because the background was black and I didn’t have to do any sloppy cutting and pasting to get the couple front and center.

It goes along with the theme of Dirty Damsels in the fonts and with the couple embracing. It’s not as sexy as the DD cover, but that’s okay with me.

Now, I just need to know if the cover “SPEAKS” to romance book buyers!

Preorder is up here: It’s a Trust Thing

The book is also available in Kindle Unlimited for those subscribers as well.

Happy reading, folks!! Hope you like my cover and the story.

Until next time ~ Peg

Looking for me? I’m here:Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

 

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Filed under Dot Com Girls Romance, It's a trust thing, Romance, Romance Books, Strong Women

#SundaySnippet 9.29.19 It’s A Trust Thing

Honestly, what other book was I gonna put up here today?? Hee hee.

So, IT’S A TRUST THING releases, as you know, on 11.1.19. Nell Newbery had an idyllic childhood up until the age of 16, when her father was arrested, tried, and convicted of running a pyramid scheme for people who had invested with him. Life as she knew it changed forever the moment he was taken away in handcuffs from their apartment.

Nell has lived her life since then out of the pubic eye, despite the hordes of journalists and paparazzi who follow her, dying to get a sound bit or  a compromising position photograph. She’s cut off all contact with her felonious father and hasn’t visited him once while he’s been incarcerated. But he’s been begging her to visit him of late. The 15th anniversary of the date he was imprisoned is looming and Nell thinks he wants to involve her in a plan to garner him early release. Since she won’t speak to him, her dad emails her. This little snippet is just one of the messages that Nell has been deleting as they arrive. I think her anger shines through in this scene.

That done, I finally checked my in-box. Much of my day-today operations were conducted electronically through email, direct message, and via my website. Some days, if I was busy with something, I’d have dozens of notifications to contend with before I knew it. Staying ahead of the mail was an important facet in keeping my day moving smoothly and my stomach unknotted.

As I opened the application and waited for the messages to load onto my screen, I sipped at the bottled water I’d gotten with lunch. A quick eye stroll down the list of waiting-to-be-read notices and the water suddenly choked at the back of my throat.

No. Just…no.

I checked the return web address, blinked, then checked it again.

It couldn’t be; it had been over a year since I’d heard anything.

One more check. Yup. It was. The return address was from a government-dot-org account.

My father had sent me an email.

Why?

Or more importantly, what did he want, because surely this wasn’t a hi, how are you doing, missive. My father wasn’t wired that way. Every email was usually a request to do something for him.

Speak in his favor at an upcoming parole hearing.

I didn’t.

Write a letter to the Governor asking for clemency or to have his sentence reduced.

I refused.

Get together with his lawyers to discuss how they could finagle him a new trial, claiming the government had railroaded him.

I never bothered to call them.

My father, I’d finally come to realize when I was in college, was a user. Out for himself and himself alone. He’d never asked once about my mother – his wife – when he emailed me. Not once in all these years. Since she’d fallen apart after his arrest and subsequent incarceration, he figured she wasn’t useful to him any longer.

The bastard.

The woman had stood by him, valiantly, bravely, believing in him until the verdict was handed down, and even after that. By virtue of their marriage, though, her reputation was ruined, a side effect of loving the man and sticking by him. All her friends had turned their backs on her. The philanthropic committees and boards she’d sat on removed her from their ranks. Even her family disowned her, blaming her for marrying a man who would bring ridicule and shame upon their good name.

Suffice it to say when they’d disowned her, it had filtered down to include me, the Devil’s spawn. The difference between my mother and I was I didn’t care that her family had rejected me because of who my father was. My mother did, though. She was devastated when everyone she loved turned on her. So much so, she’d disassociated from the world and wound up committed. It was grossly unfair. Her husband was the criminal, not her. The only crime she’d committed was in loving and trusting the man.

I hadn’t seen nor spoken to my father since the day he was escorted out of a federal courtroom to begin his sentence.

He’d gotten my email address from one of his lawyers. Thankfully, none of them had my private cell number and I didn’t have a personal landline so they couldn’t reach out to me. My calls at the office were screened by the receptionist I shared with Ella and Danny, and I avoided them whenever they called.

This missive now staring at me was the first time in over a year he’d made contact.

He knew the anniversary of his imprisonment was a time the media dredged the whole sordid affair up again, vomiting all the details to the public. For the tenth anniversary a cable news magazine had dedicated a one-hour program to it titled, When Greed Ruled the World. My father probably thought now was a good time to strike with another request for early release, or some other legal maneuver. Since his name was going to be publicly front and center again, why not try to garner some sympathy; some empathy for himself? I did a quick calculation and came up with his age: sixty-eight. He’d claim to be an old man, repentant in his ways.

What a crock.

Any measure of daughterly affection or familial obligation died when he’d tossed my mother aside.

She was the one who had my loyalty and love. For her, I’d go to bat and do anything to make her life easier.

My father? Yeah, not so much.

My finger hit the delete key.

Intrigued? I hope so. Remember, you can preorder it now, here; It’s a Trust Thing. Or, if you subscribe to KU, you can download it on 11.1.19.

Looking for me? I’m here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

Until next time ~ Peg

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