Authors for Authors
Today’s Authors for Authors answer is from Meg Amor, author of Dark War from MuseItHot Publishing.
Are you independent, or with a publisher?
I’m actually both. For my self help book The Mystic Manifestor, I published that myself in print, four years ago, and just released it as an ebook on Amazon. But for my romance erotica, I’m glad to say I’m with a publisher. I’m with Muse It Up Publishing, a small to medium size, independent good press out of Canada. Mikey and I are both with them, and she’s with Loose Id. It certainly gives you a leg up, I think. And added confidence, that a house will pick you up and have the confidence in you to publish your work. It’s fantastic having the professional editors, seeing the processes that go into a book.
Can you compare the two, if involved in both forms of publishing?
I like the fastness of being an independent publisher and doing it on my own. I get to decide how fast I get this book up, how its cover will be. And I get all the royalties from it.
But with a publisher, I get backup and support. I get a team behind me, staff and other writers in the publishing group. And writers lives can be a wee bit lonesome at times. I don’t mind that per se, but having other writers you can ask a question of, or just moan about a cover say, is a boon being in a group. You definitely get more support being with a publisher. Your promoting is cut down, although you still need to do it. You get the wonderful editing that a good house has, which we have at Muse. We go through a content edit, back and forth, until the editor and I are both happy with where it’s sitting. Then it goes to the line editor, who gets all our commas, grammar and anything else in a row.
We then get a cover for each book, even in an anthology which is REALLY nice. And finally we get ‘galley’ or the proofreading, which we do ourselves. But by then, it should be pretty clean. It’s a thorough process. Sometimes I find it overly long, and each house has different processing times, but I do love being with a house.
It does make you feel slightly more like a ‘real’ author. Not that you’re not, if you’re not with a house. It’s just an internal feeling for me, having also self published. The truth of it today is that you’d be hard pressed to tell a lot of indies from house books. Sometimes the only thing that let’s people down is the editing. You can tell a book hasn’t gone through a professional house editor. You can learn so much from a decent editor.
I love the process. A decent editor will take your chunk of story, then cut and polish it until it shines and sparkles, bringing out the best facets of it. I think you miss that sometimes as an independent. I had to completely reedit The Mystic Manifestor for re-release. It was a nightmare. LOL. (as in, my first edit in the print version was a nightmare.)
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This sensuous sultry romance is set in an old planation house in The Bayou of Louisiana. Three hearts entwined between two beautiful Creole men and one wild redhead woman. Thunderheads roll in off the bay on a hot and sultry night. The wind chimes are going wild. This heat flash has been building for a few days. Anything could happen…
Lonely Charlie Laralde aches with pent-up sexual tension and love for his two best friends, Henry and Izzy. His desire for them is torn to shreds by a vicious woman convincing him, he’s unlovable trash. Like the inner Dark War struggle he’s fought his whole life, he gives in to the darkness.
Frustrated and hell bent on destruction, he disappears with an unsavory crowd on a depraved death wish booty-call.
Will Henry and Izzy rescue him in time? Can they convince Charlie he’s their hearts desire? And the deep passionate love and desire they have for him?
I’ve known Charlie since the day he was born. He’s ten years younger, a Creole from a good Louisiana family like I am. Tall, charismatic, charming, oozes sex like the call of a siren going out into the night. He has a slight look of Smokey Robinson in his eyes, raw sexuality, and the women flock to him. They always have. Charlie’s sexy, light-skinned, what would have been called pardo in the old days, not like my darker skin. He keeps his hair slightly long and swept back. He still colors it, just vain enough to not want to age yet.
I’ve long let my short afro progress to salt and pepper. Izzy likes it. She thinks I look and sound a little like that popular, distinguished black actor, which I take as a compliment. He’s older than me and apparently comes under the “sex on a stick,” category. She says I do, too. I’m not sure what she sees, I’m sixty-eight to her thirty-eight years, but she loves me on a deep, soul level. I remind myself everyday how lucky I am.
“We have to find him,” Izzy’s plugged in energetically and this makes me more nervous.
After a lot of calls back and forth to Danny, I’m still none the wiser as to where Charlie went. Hell, I’m worried. It’s been an hour. We’ve achieved precisely nothing.
Izzy comes back from the office, her face taut with stress. “I know where he is.” She loves him as much as I do.
“Where?” I frown.
She shows me on the map. Oh thank God. Okay, I know where he is now. “How did you get this information?”
She grimaces. “I managed to get the stupid car-tracking software to activate.”
“Thank God, baby. I was going mad.”
In reality he’s not far. It’s an old property of his family’s, kind of Bayou, out on the river. An old plantation house, falling down now, the Spanish moss choking everything it touches.
“Let’s go,” says Izzy, grabbing her purse and sliding her feet into a pair of flip-flops.
I want to leave her here but know she won’t let me go by myself. Her long, red curls and bright, tropical sundresses make her exotic and sexy, all that beauty dragged into something squalid.
“Not even,” she says.
“Iz, babe, let me deal with Charlie.”
“No, for fuck’s sake, I’m not letting you go there by yourself. Crikey, you don’t really think that’s going to happen, do you? He’s my friend too. We need to sort this out. He’s probably trolleyed out of his brain. You’re not going to deal with him by yourself.”
“Iz,” I say seriously.
“We’re bloody going. Charlie needs us.”
“Yes, he does, but I have a bad feeling about this. There’s probably going to be some sleazy people there. And who knows what else will be going on.”
“Fuck you, Charlie,” she hisses.
I don’t want her to see him like that. I know when he wakes up, sober and sick, he’ll be ashamed. I’ve been here with him. She hasn’t. Admittedly, even for me, a long time ago.
“We’ll take my truck.”
She nods, already helping me grab things we’ll need. Oh God, Charlie. Please be okay. I toss the big first-aid kit in the car, grab water and blankets. I run upstairs to his bathroom and pack shampoo, soap, toiletries, and towels. I throw spare clothes into a bag. Izzy’s eyes silently ask me why. She grimaces and shuts her eyes.
It’s hot, sultry, and steamy. A storm’s brewing out in the bay, picking up the wind. The big thunderheads rolling in earlier have been slow reaching us.
We’re sweating from fear as much as the velvety warmth. A sheen of sweat coats our skin. It’s the height of summer. The heat hasn’t dropped any at night. This heat flash has been brewing for a few days, increasing tensions each day. I’m not surprised something crazy is happening.
We hop into the truck. She grabs my hand. I pull her into me, wrapping my whole body around hers, breathing in her sweet plumeria scent. I wish I could go back inside, shut the door, take her to bed, and make love to her slowly. Deep heat, sensuous lingering arousal, until we’re both going mad with desire. The screaming need for each other has never diminished or abated.
It can’t be easy for Charlie at times, living with us. He wants what we have, I know that. I thought this was taking a different direction but unless I’m mistaken, something’s jumped the rails somewhere.
“I feel bad, I should have caught this sooner,” I say.
“I didn’t pick up on it either, babe. Maybe something happened at The Club and he got triggered.”
She’s as worried as I am.
“I love you, babe, more than life itself.”
“I know, baby. Back at you, always.” She kisses me slowly, her soft lips opening up, letting me slide my tongue into her mouth, all the heat in her eyes, despite the worry. Beautiful girl. How did I get this lucky?
I don’t even have to plug in the address. I know where he is.
*** Henry and Isolde ~ Muse It Up ~ Sensual Erotic Romance ~ Troika Love Series – Book 1 of Trilogy ~ Spring 2015 release Saint Nicholas ~ Muse It Up ~ Sensual Erotic Romance ~ a beautiful heartfelt m/f love story ~ Christmas 2014 release.
Dark War ~ Muse It Up ~ Sensual Erotic Romance ~ a committed Troika/poly relationship.
The Mystic Manifestor ~ Island Spirit Amor ~ Spiritual/Self-Help
“Everyone lives a thousand lives, but only one life to remember ~
Will this be yours?”
This entry was posted on August 26, 2014 by michelerakes. It was filed under Authors for Authors and was tagged with Authors for Authors, Dark War, Erotic, Erotic romance, erotica, gay romance, gender-bending, LGBT, M/M Romance, Meg Amor, Michele Micheal Rakes, muse it hot publishing, MuseItHot Publishing, The Writer's Nest, www.museithotpublishing.com.