My debut middle grade novel, Blues Bones, is getting closer
to its release date this coming spring. I am building a Street Team. What’s
that you may ask? It’s a group of people who want to help promote the work of
Have you ever wanted to be part of a special club? A street
team consists of a group of people who help an artist promote his, or her,
work. I think it started with rap artists, but it works for book promotion too.
It’s important to get the word out .
Members get perks.
Constant updates on
the status of the book.
Be the first to see
what the cover will look like. (Should be soon)
Be among the first
to read the book and post reviews.
with your friends about the book.
It’s easy. If you like to read, it’ll be a breeze. Oh, and posting a review
isn’t difficult at all. Just share with the world what you thought about the
book and your take on it. That’s it.
If you don’t like to read, you can help too! Just agree to share information
with your friends when you can.
Most of the information you will share is as simple as clicking share on
Facebook, or clicking copy and pasting.
I have a lot of author friends who have contest to give away
free books to promote their new book. Sometimes an author will ask me to read
his or her book to write a review and help spread the word. I love helping others in this way. It’s fun,
and it’s a great way to keep up with the changing market by knowing what is
There are tons of the contest going on to win free books.
Some authors team up and give away a whole bunch of books to one lucky winner.
So many times I am tempted to enter the contests, and then ask myself if the book,
or books, is something I would normally read. I know the hard work that goes
into writing a book and getting it published. Somewhere along the line it is
costing money to give the book away for free. Why should I build a collection
of books that I probably will never read? If I don’t read them, it is a waste
of time and money for whoever is behind the contest.
Thirteen-year-old Tulip Bonnaire moonlights as a private
investigator at Poison Ivy Charm school, and her latest case depends on
uncovering an old secret to prove her crush Dex hasn't been casting harmful
spells. She's in for quite a scare with this case.
Patrice Lyle has never met a
ghost story she didn’t like. She’s been fascinated with the paranormal since
childhood. She attributes this fascination to having heard old family stories
of ghostly wreaths, ESP, and money hidden in the lining of antique purses. She
grew up on the Oregon Coast and has a Master’s Degree in Writing Popular
Fiction. Now she lives with her husband and two cats on Florida’s Space Coast,
where she’s working on her next novel under an umbrella on the beach. For more
information, please visit her website at www.patricebooks.com.
“Any news yet?” He sat down on his bed and wedged himself
against a mountain of pillows.
about to answer when a glint of gray caught my eye. A stone the size of a
cookie, with an uneven hole in the middle of it, sat on his bedside table. “Is
that your enchanted sea hag stone?” The one that had started all the trouble?
Glad she finally woke up and told me ’bout Dexter busting into my closet.”
him and approached the troublemaking pebble. Its smooth exterior was cool
against my skin when I rolled it between my fingers. Not a sign of life existed
until I dropped it – kinda accidentally – onto his table. Thud.
creepy eyes appeared, lined with spiky, green eyelashes. A tiny mouth with
slimy black lips emerged around the hole. And a long, carrot-shaped nose
covered in warts jutted out. “Hey, you. Don’t drop me like a bag of dirt.” Her
voice screeched like a spider monkey on a rampage.
laughed. “You talking about Garrett’s Lev performance?”
cleared his throat. “That’s not my fault. It’s a spell.”
you drop me again, you idiotic hooligan.” The sea hag had a ’tude stronger than
to fling the stupid stone out the window, but that wasn’t the best way to get
information. If the dumb hag had seen Dexter, maybe she’d seen something else
that could help me solve the case.
I said. “I didn’t mean to.”
right. I know a rock dropper when I see one.”
a smirk and a smart comment about a rolling stone. “You see anything else
suspicious in Garrett’s room?”
batted her needle-like eyelashes. “Nothing but that nerd ’lock who slipped in
here like some moron ghost who hasn’t mastered being dead yet. He fumbled with
the door forever before crashing in like a nitwit.”
shot through my veins like an ink pen explosion. First Garrett had insulted Dex.
And now some stone with a hideous, old hag face? Who do they think they are?
I grabbed the dumb rock with both hands and pinched the sea hag’s ugly
warty nose, intent on breaking it off.
teeth chomped down on my fingers, drawing blood.
You stupid sea hag!” I tried to hurl her against the wall, but her grip was
like a pit bull’s.
bulls had carrot-shaped noses, spider monkey voices, and moldy teeth.
thing off me,” I yelled at Garrett. “Or I’ll drop your case.”