Allbooks Review International December 2013 Newsletter

Posted in Uncategorized on December 25, 2013 by Allbooks Review International

Allbooks Review Int. Dec. 2013 Newsletter
Visit: http://www.allbooksreviewint.com

Celebrating FOURTEEN years of business !

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FEATURE:

http://www.woodsidepubgroup.com

On Friday, four days before Christmas last year, I was asked a peculiar question. My youngest great-grandson and I were having a “man to man” talk about past Christmas celebrations. Josh looked up at me, his sweet face clouded with an earnestness only the young possess. His big brown eyes shined with anticipation of a story. “Yeah, but Poppa,” he said. “What was the weirdest Christmas ever?”
I smiled, sat forward and took his soft, freckled cheeks in my callused palms. It seemed kids today craved weird tales more than stories of family and Santa Claus and the birth of Jesus Christ. It seemed they wanted dark as opposed to light. Not because they understood the concept of evil and not because they would welcome a vampire, zombie, werewolf or the king of darkness himself … Satan into their home, but because those were the villains, and sometimes the heros, of their video games.
“I’m sorry, Josh,” I said, “In all my years on this planet, I’ve never had a weird
Christmas, but I did have a miraculous one and I’ll never forget that day. It all began one cold, clear morning in 1961, the 23rd of December it was, one day away from Christmas Eve ….”
***
I sat between four of the biggest men working the northern Wyoming cattle ranch I now called home. My position on the bench was dictated by grub shack etiquette, the first lesson I learned after hiring on with the Double G crew. The foreman, Lester Wallace, and two senior hands, held down the opposite side of the long plank topped table.
Teller and Nate, two old sourdoughs I’d heard about, but never met, had gone up the mountain a week before I hired on. I’d heard tell those two men were a strange breed. Nary a word passed between them, so went the story. Rumor had it, they couldn’t stand the sight of one another. Yet, they wintered in a line shack, holding a passel a cattle in a pocket canyon until spring thaw. How would they see to the feeding and care of the stock until snow melt? I wondered. It sounded more than mysterious to me. Either those boys were a couple a strange ducks or the story was nonsense … a hoorah for a new hand, put on by the crew.
Anyway, I had my head down, elbows in, putting my share of breakfast away, when Mr. Wallace banged his cup on the table for attention. “Mr. Gravanski asked me to wish y’all a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. For those with family nearby, the boss hopes you’ll spend this joyous time with your loved ones.”
Not since I started forking a saddle have I seen six cowboys move so fast. The four on

my side jumped up, one splashing coffee on his shirtfront, as the bench dumped over. I’m fast on my feet and came up with them, saving my plate as I did. I kept chewing while I watched those boys scatter to the wind before I could say scat.
I forgot myself and shook my head whilst I set my plate down. After picking up the
bench, I sat and snuck a look at Mr. Wallace. He had me hogtied with his eyes. “Well, Jack,”
said he, “those fellas appear in a hurry. You short on family close by?”
“I expect I’m the strange pup in the litter,” said I. “Don’t have no family close by or otherwise.”
The foreman chewed on a chunk a ham and forked a scoop of scrambled egg in his cheek for good measure. He stared at his plate until his mouth emptied. “You want to stay here, I’ll expect you to pitch in with whatever comes up. You understand, Jack?”
“Yessir.” I waited for more detail, but Mr. Wallace bent to his plate and finished up with a slurp of scalding coffee the hash-slinger poured in his cup. He stood, stretched and yawned.
“Dang fine vittles, Vittles,” said he to the cook.
The cook nodded his bald head. “Much obliged, Les. Say hello to Sissy and the kids for me and a Merry Christmas to y’all.”
“Same to you, Vittles. Take care of our new man for me.” He hollered the last at the cook’s back as the short, broad man disappeared into the kitchen.
The foreman stared down at me. “Vittles Poister will act as foreman until I get back,” said he. “He’s been with Mr. Gravanski since the first posthole got dug for the Double G. He’ll tell you what needs doing and when.”
Mr. Wallace walked out of the grub shack and left me with my coffee and the last of my eggs. I’d seen a smile twist the corner of the foreman’s mouth as he turned away. I figured I was being set up for a little new man grief from the old hash-slinger. To my surprise, Vittles treated
me right reasonable the rest of the day.
Christmas Eve morning, he barked at me for coming late to breakfast, but fed me a fine
big meal just the same. The cook, I decided, was a strange duck, too. I belched and walked my utensils to the washtub at the front of the grub shack. Vittles appeared in the kitchen doorway
and gave me a look over the top of his spectacles. “By the by, Jack,” said he, the big grin on his
puss plain to see through the thin hairs of his beard. “The boss wants to see you, pronto.”
I must a had that “deer in the headlights” look in my eye because he laughed like he’d told the best joke ever and leaned against the doorjamb to keep from falling over.
“About what?” said I when he straightened up and wiped his mouth.
“How the heck would I know?” said he. “See me when you’re done.”
***
I stood in the foyer waiting for the maid. The house was huge, a three-story affair with curving staircases dividing the north and south wings. An atrium-like dome cast a pale glow over the landings, staircases and foyer. The smell of old leather and polish filled the air of the first floor. It was an open affair with a huge sitting room off to the south. I had no idea what lay hidden behind the staircases to the north, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. A maid showed up and said, “Follow me, please.”
This would be my first meeting with Mr. Gravanski. When the foreman hired me on, he said I’d be lucky to meet the boss before spring roundup. That was okay by me. I was just grateful to have a bunk, period. Most spreads in the territory ran a skeleton crew in winter and wouldn’t hire a new hand no how.
I followed the maid by a large kitchen, dining room and all the way to the end of a long hallway lined with family pictures on both sides. At the end of the hall, she pointed to an open doorway on my left.
Mr. Gravanski sat with his back to me as I entered his office. He swiveled around at the
scuffing sound my boots made on the pegged maple floor. The boss looked me over and I
snapped to attention not knowing what else to do. Way I saw it, I could get my walking papers.
There wasn’t much going on what with the stock wintered up.
“Jack Zagerro, is it?”
He caught me wool-gathering and I jumped. “Yessir,” said I. My voice cracked and I wanted to cough, but thought better of it.
Mr. Gravanski stood and offered his hand across the large worktable separating us. We shook, he with a firm pressure and released. His hand was every bit as hard-callused as any man who handled rope and leather daily including my-own-self … it surprised me no end.
“Well, Jack. I’m glad to meet you at last,” said he and sat back down. “Have a seat and let’s talk.”
I took a leather chair in front of his table.
Mr. Gravanski folded his hands and studied me over steepled fingers. “Are you a praying, churchgoing man, Jack?”
Uh-oh, I thought. I’m off the range for good and all, but I’ll be danged if I’ll lie to the man. I held my ground. “No sir, Mr. Gravanski, can’t say I am. I ain’t had too many times in my life when praying done me much good.”
The boss dropped back in his chair. It being an old, sort a dilapidated chair, it squealed and squawked and I wondered why a man of means like him kept the old thing around. Looking closer, I saw the leather covering had cracked and peeled in places. I could see stuffing and wood at the edges of the arms. I decided there must be a story there, but I wasn’t about to ask.
“I’m right sad to hear you’ve had bad luck with the Lord, Jack.” He held up his hand and
shook his head. “Don’t take me wrong, I don’t hold it against you. I appreciate a man who’ll speak the truth no matter what he thinks I want to hear.”
“Thank you kindly, sir,” said I.
“I’ve got a special job for you, Jack. It’s a simple errand, but it’ll mean a good deal to me if it gets done.”
“I’ll do what I can for you, sir,” said I.
He stood up, waved his hand and I followed him to the far wall. He pulled down a detailed map of the Double G and pointed to a road leading up the slope of the Bighorns.
“Vittles is putting together two insulated containers. I want you to deliver them to Teller and Nate,” said he, pointing out a squiggly line. “Load up the Cherokee with those containers, a case a beer and take this road. Teller and Nate are holed up at Number Two line shack. They’ll be a three-way fork about five miles up the road. Take the middle fork, Number Two is built into the escarpment at the mouth of that pocket canyon. That’s where we hold the high meadow stuff until spring. Any questions, Jack?”
“Pretty straightforward, sir. I’ll head on out.”
The boss offered his hand. “We finished the roads with a fresh grade after the last big rain, so there shouldn’t be problems. When you get back you’re welcome at our Christmas Eve dinner table. Vittles and the rest of our family will join us.”
I blushed like a schoolgirl at the invitation, mumbled a thank you, and hurried out of the office.

***

I stopped off at the grub shack looking for the keys to the Cherokee. Vittles motioned me
into the kitchen. “You’d best take the big Jeep,” said he and handed me a set of keys. “It’s the
one with the snow plow on the front.”
“Boss said take the Cherokee,” said I.
“I’m the only boss you need worry about on this range,” said he. “I know what’s what. Take the big Jeep.”
“No offense, Vittles, but what the heck is what?”
“You got five mile to the fork. You got another eight to Number Two. Don’t sound like much, and the road’s been graded, but I’ll tell you this and you can take it for truth. I’ve seen rocks come off that slope and kill a full-growed steer where she stood. Sometimes they’s all over the road, graded or not. Besides which, there’s a storm coming. Sky’s clear, I know, but I’m here to tell you it won’t be for long. You don’t take the plow, you may not make it to Number Two, let alone back. You’re new so I’ll tell you once, do like I say and get back here so’s I can load
the containers.”
***
The sun lay over my left shoulder when I bumped my way up the slope. I saw no rocks, steer-size or smaller. I felt pretty cocky by the time I hit the fork. Cocky until I saw a boulder the size of a Saint Bernard’s doghouse right in the middle of the road. I got out of the Jeep to take stock of my problem. The road, graded wide enough to allow a big wagon or vehicle, had deep drainage ditches on either side. Up the road a hundred yards was a culvert and cattle gate, the
gateway to the northeast pasture.
The wind started up and blew like the dickens. To the north I saw big thunderheads brush the peaks of the Bighorns and roll my way. I put my hat in the Jeep and slipped on my heavy coat. I looked again at the sign attached to a stanchion reaching a good two feet above the top of my head. The main road and its three branches had eight-foot stanchions marking the left and right shoulders.
The metal posts marched in a staggered line, left and right, as far as I could see up the
slope. The top twelve inches of each was painted bright red. There was one reason for the tall posts, the road boundaries had to be marked. Snow, when it came, drifted deep on the slope.
Best get that boulder up the road and off on the culvert, I thought. It would be easier to push it into the deep trench at the side of the road, but plugging the drainage ditch would cause bigger problems come the spring thaw. I fooled with the hydraulics until I could raise and lower the plow blade with confidence. I eased the Jeep forward and came against the boulder nice and
easy. “Okay, Jack,” said I, “push her on up the road.”
Out of nowhere a slashing rain hit like the slap of a riled woman, pelting the windshield with fat, icy drops. Rain was my enemy. Rain meant mud and mud meant the boulder wasn’t going anywhere. I bulled it forward, but the blade hit too hard. The boulder rolled to the side and stopped cold. I heard an awful screech, a pop, and the big Jeep tilted up on its back axle squealing.
“Dang you for a fool, Jack Zagerro,” yelled I.
Backing away, the Jeep’s front axle slammed down, the plow blade cutting through the fresh gravel roadbed. I rolled back about half-a-turn of the wheels. A loud groan brought the big Jeep to a stop. The torrent turned to sleet and the wind gusted pushing it sideways. Ice slammed the side of the Jeep sounding like shotgun pellets. I had to get out and look at the damage. I’d seen a small toolbox in the back, it caught my eye as I loaded the insulated containers. Maybe, I thought, I could remove the blade and use the bumper to push the rock to the side.
I closed my coat to the collar and my gloves came next. I pushed on the door. It opened, but only after a struggle. Sleet hit my face, stinging like a dose of poison oak. The force of the front axle coming down shoved the plow’s blade inward and up. Bolts holding the struts and hydraulics had snapped. Everything twisted and bent up under the front differential.
Cold crept under my coat making me shiver. A cloak of white began to hinder my view
of the wreckage. Snow. I squinted up at a dark gray sky. The flakes I saw coming at me were as big as a fifty-cent pieces. I crawled back in the Jeep and turned the key. The engine caught, but a loud click soon turned to a more insistent clunk-clunkity-clunk. A strut or part of the hydraulic system was interfering with the crankshaft’s pulley. The engine gave a shudder and died.
Despite the heat of the engine, snow began to cover the hood of the Jeep. It wouldn’t be long before it spread its blanket over my refuge like a shroud. I shook with cold, unable to run the engine. It wouldn’t be long before the heat of the interior was gone. Would Vittles or Mr. Gravanski wonder about my whereabouts? I tried the CB radio time and again, at last the battery ran down to nothing.
I watched with dread and fascination as the windshield covered over. I closed my eyes and whispered a plea. “I turned away from You, Lord. I’m a sorry man for that mistake. I pray you’ll see me outta this mess. Amen.”
My head dropped on the headrest and I stared at the windshield with its coat of white blowing away and filling back up … a hypnotic sight when coupled with burning cold. I stared until my eyes turned heavy. The last sensation I remember is my shaking … it stopped ….
***
“C’mon … c’mon … hey … you hear me, boy?” Someone shouted through the fog that clouded my brain. I rocked back and forth like I’d been on a three-day toot. Strong fingers dug into my shoulder. “Wake up … c’mon, sonny.”
“Hey, Nate. Come look what’s back here.” A different voice joined the first and a brightness filtered through my eyelids and into the fog of my brain … I blinked and was blinded by the brilliance shining through the pristine windshield.
The shaking stopped and I thought about going back to sleep, but my legs and arms were electrified as if I’d touched a hot wire. I groaned as the vise squeezing my shoulder vanished.
“Well, dang my hide,” the first voice said. “Will you look at that? Vittles and the boss rigged up a right nice Christmas supper for us.”
Needles of pain speared my eyes as I opened them. Sunlight bouncing off the sparkling snow pack hit me like the flash of an arc welder.
“He’s finally woke up, Teller. Why you suppose he slept in the dang Jeep all night?”
“What the heck’s the matter with you, Nate? Can’t you see this here turkey and all them fixings is piping hot? He just got here, you dumb ox.”
“Well, if that’s the case, Mister Smarty Pants, where’s his track? Where’d he plow? I don’t see nothing but snow packed up to an elephant’s eyeballs.”
Silence. I looked to my left and saw a narrow path shoveled from the door of Number Two to the side of the Jeep. I sat up, swiveled and dropped my feet to the ground. I squinted at a tall, rangy man of seventy or I missed my guess. Beside him, staring at me like I’d dropped my pants, was a stooped, gnarly fella with long arms and hands the size of basketballs.
“You must be Teller and Nate,” said I.
“You mean Nate and Teller,” said the gnarly fella.
“The boy knows what he means,” said the rangy man.
“Before you boys go at each other,” said I, “I’m a new man since October. Name’s Jack Zagerro and I’d appreciate you telling me how the devil I got here.”
“Suppose we get these vittles inside where it’s a little warmer,” said Teller.
“Fine idea,” said Nate, “I was about to say the same thing. By the by, sonny, I don’t think
old man Satan had anything to do with getting you here.” He picked up a container and walked
up the path.
Teller passed me with the second container in his arms. “You get what’s left, boy.”
I moved to the rear of the Jeep, warmth from the open cargo door bathed my face. The drifted snow lay untouched and layered from the rear bumper of the Jeep as far as my eye could see. I shuddered. The warmth of the cargo’s interior seemed to seep into my bones.
Grabbing the case of beer, I looked up. Above me the sky shimmered a deep, vibrant blue. The air around me nipped at my fingers and nose with icy teeth. I walked to the front of the Jeep and looked at the plow’s blade. It rested hood high, the struts and hydraulics glistening with sparkles of sunlight. They looked brand-spanking new.
The cold began to leach through my boots and the case of beer in my arms grew heavy. I smiled at the luminous expanse of wonder we call the sky and murmured. “Happy birthday, Jesus. I promise I won’t ever forget You again.”
Halfway up the shoveled path, I noticed the beer in my arms was icy cold. I remembered the waves of warmth coming from the interior of the Jeep and wonder helped my smile all but break my jaw.
Approaching the door of Number Two, I heard Teller’s gruff voice. “Ding-bust-it, Nate.
Wash those big mitts a yours before you go fondling that fine turkey.”
“You wash your own hands, yea-hoo. Who voted you boss man of this here shindig?”
“I heard tell you boys don’t speak to one another. You sound like a couple a old married folks to me,” said I.
Nate and Teller stopped stock-still and looked at me with blood in their eye.
I smiled and set the beer on the drainboard. “It’s icy cold,” said I, and popped the top on a can. Cold foam ran over my fingers. I laughed and raised it on high.

“Merry Christmas, boys. No roughhouse today if you’ve a mind. Let’s remember whose
birthday we’re about to celebrate.”
OUR AUTHOR INTERVIEW WILL RETURN NEXT NEWSLETTER
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL
Allbooks Review is the review and author promo source for POD AUTHORS as well as
traditionally published authors. Authors around the world use our service.Great coverage for your book for twelve months +.Our complete review and author promotional package is less than $50.U.S Unbelievable value!! http://www.allbooksreviewint.com/ For complete details contact us.

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Allbooks Review FEB 2013 Newsletter

Posted in Uncategorized on January 28, 2013 by Allbooks Review International

Visit:   www.allbooksreviewint.com

 Celebrating thirteen years of business !

Allbooks Review is the review and author promo source for POD AUTHORS as well as

traditionally published authors.  Authors around the world use our service.Great coverage for your book for twelve months +.Our complete review and author promotional package is less than $50.U.S Unbelievable value!! http://www.allbooksreviewint.com/ For complete details contact us by email      marketingallbooks@aol.com 

 F is for February and F is for FREE and this month we have some FREE Stuff as our appreciation to our readership.

 SUCCESS STORIES

 Congratulations to Shirley A. Roe. Her new Blog Travel the World with Shirley A. Roe is now live.

http://shirleyroetravels.blogspot.ca/watch for the website coming soon.

 Bridgetown’s Eleventh Hour is now available in ebook, and print

 (kindle edition): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009KWEX02

 

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 Our full author promotional package is only $49.95. This includes a review, interview and 12 months internet circulation of the review with purchase links on various websites. We review both print and ebooks for traditionally published and self- published authors. Also editing, and advertising in our bookstore at excellent rates.

For information, email    allbooksreview1@aol.com

For Jan. Feb and  March we are giving six month advertising in our bookstore ($39.95 value) absolutely FREE to authors that take advantage of the promo.

 Allbooks Reviews INTERVIEW:

 Please state your name and location.  (city and State or Province, Country)

John Scherber

San Miguel de Allende, GTO, Mexico

 

Tell us the title and publisher of your book:

Eden Lost, Sam Miguel Allende Books 2012.

 

Tell us about yourself:

I am an American expat who has lived in central Mexico for five years. I am the author of a nonfiction book on the expat experience titled San Miguel de Allende: A Place in the Heart, as well as a series of ten mysteries set in Mexico. I also have two thrillers and two vampire tales/

 

 

When was the book released?:

August, 2012

 

 

 

Give us an overview of your book.

I think of it as psychological horror. There is some gore, but no chainsaws. What happens when a good man gradually has very certainty removed from his life, all the things he ever believed in, the things that made him the person he thought he was. To me, that is real horror, when you are wrong about everything you trust.

 

 

What inspired you to write this book?

I always wanted to try this genre, but it wasn’t until I felt I really understood horror that tried it.

 

How is your book different from other books in this genre?

I believe it is. I purposely read no other horror books before I started because I didn’t want to copy what anyone else was doing,

 

Where can people buy your book?

Amazon Kindle and B & N Nook

 

 

Are you working on another book? If so when do you expect it to be published?

The tenth of my mysteries is coming out December 1. Then I have a murder on the Nile book titled The Amarna Heresy coming out in the spring.

 

If you self published, what advice can you give to fellow writers?

I got an agent almost immediately when I started the mysteries and after five years he had sold nothing. Reluctantly, I decided to self-publish because I wanted to find an audience. I hated the thought of learning publishing and promotion, but that’s what is required.

 

If published traditionally, tell us how you benefited:

 

 

Can you share one of your marketing successes with us?

I began blogging about Mexico lifestyles and the writing life. This is my platform. My blogs were picked up by various small Mexico expat websites and so I approached Mexconnect, which is the largest of the online magazines about Mexico. Now I’m a regular feature writer for them and they have a monthly traffic of 500,000. At the bottom of each article I write is a link to my website.

 

 

How did you find Allbooks Reviews and what are you hoping for in your relationship with us?

I saw a reference to it online and I’m hoping, as always, to find more potential readers.

 

Was the low cost a surprise? What other things would you like Allbooks Reviews to offer writers?

 

The cost is certainly moderate.

 

 

Thank you for this interview and best of luck with your book.

 

 

 

 

 

http://www.allboooksreviewint.com

Review of The Age of Amy Bonehead Bootcamp by Bruce Edward

Posted in Uncategorized on December 10, 2012 by Allbooks Review International

Have you ever been to a bootcamp? How about one where you fall into a world where your inner personality shows clearly through your now animal head? Well that’s exactly what happens to Amy Dawson when her parents send her to Bonehead Bootcamp.
After her big move from the city to the Midwest, which she isn’t happy about, she strikes out at her family until they’ve had enough. Her parents decide that Amy needs a change of attitude and think the best thing for her will be to send her to Bonehead Bootcamp. As it turns out Bonehead Bootcamp isn’t your average bootcamp for troubled teens. It’s actually a scary, fantasy land where a goat man forces Amy and three other teens to see their real selves and change the animals they truly are inside.
The Age of Amy Bonehead Bootcamp is truly a book about finding one’s real self and getting over the bad animal like parts of the human personalities in the world. Amy represents the average kid really well, who is angry about moving and lashes out. The twist in the story is a different idea that is actually a really great way to show the many different types of people by making their heads look like animals.
The author Bruce Edwards does a really great job setting up the plot of the story. He also does a good job at creating the characters so that they really do match the types of animals he makes them. I highly recommend this book for new readers from middle school to early high school kids who are looking for a great read about teenagers around their own age.

HighlyRecommended by Reviewer:Chaselyn Kenney,AllbookReview International http://www.allbooksreviewint.com

Title: The Age of Amy Bonehead Bootcamp
Author: Bruce Edward
Publisher: Lambert Hill
Price: $9.95 paperback
Pages:174
ISBN: 978-0-9837604-0-5
For more info: http://www.AgeOfAmy.com
Date of review: April 2012

Review of To Kill the Duke by author Sam Moffie

Posted in Uncategorized on December 4, 2012 by Allbooks Review International

Take a journey back into the 1950s, alongside a cast of familiar characters, and re-visit the ‘Cold War’ in a different light…!

Author, Sam Moffie, creates a tidal wave of excellence pouring out and onto each page of his latest literary work, ‘To Kill The Duke.’
Moffie constructs a work of art in this piece of – historical facts meets fiction. As a history buff, I have always been interested in learning more about the ‘Cold War’ and the major consequence it had on our history as a whole. What if I was to tell you a soviet plot was constructed by Stalin, to find and assassinate the one and only – American film icon, John Wayne, aka ‘The Duke!’ Sound crazy? Historical documents prove just that! Sam Moffie combines historical facts of the cold war with colorful fictitious characters and humorous situations – all which play a riveting role in this masterpiece. True to fashion, Moffie’s dialogue glitters among this star-studded cast of characters.
What do ‘Susan Hayward,’ John Wayne,’ and Howard Hughes’ have in common – besides all being iconic film legends? They are all immortalized in Moffie’s tale of suspense, espionage, and humor.
I am thoroughly impressed with the amount of time and research Moffie put into creating ‘To Kill The Duke.’ Toward the end, Moffie lists the cast and crew specifying their careers and untimely deaths.
‘To Kill The Duke’ is a fascinating read that any history buff can appreciate – any reader for that matter that is searching for a book with a unique plot, mesmerizing characters, and enjoys dark humor.
Sam Moffie has written four previous novels – I highly suggest that you check them out as well!
Highly recommended by Barbara Watkins, Allbooks Review Int. http://www.allbooksreviewint.com

Title: To Kill The Duke:
Author: Sam Moffie:
Publisher: CreateSpace
ISBN# 9781461147060
Pages: 362
April 2012

Allbooks Review International December 2012 Newsletter

Posted in Uncategorized on November 28, 2012 by Allbooks Review International

Visit: http://www.allbooksreviewint.com for more details

BEST OF THE SEASON TO EVERYONE

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Congratulations to Shirley A. Roe.
Bridgetown’s Eleventh Hour is now available in ebook, and print
(kindle edition): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B009KWEX02

FEATURE:
Are Books Doomed to Extinction?

Publishers Must Innovate to Save the Book as We Know It,
Says Best-Selling Author

Michael Levin says he can see the writing on the iPad.
“Unless something changes, books as we know them are doomed, and not simply because people prefer to read on their iPads or Kindles.” says Levin, (www.BusinessGhost.com), a New York Times best-selling author, as well as editor, publisher, co-writer and ghostwriter.
“You’ll see the major publishing houses starting to go away in three to five years,” Levin says. “Their business model is in free fall. Already, we’re seeing books becoming shorter, cheaper, and diminishing in quality. You’ll soon see fewer really good authors bothering to write books, because books are no longer a meaningful source of revenue.”
Levin points to several developments he says foreshadow a sad ending for books:

• Attention spans are diminishing. Three-fourths of teachers said their students’ attention spans are shorter than ever, according to a poll released in June. By 11 years old, nearly half of the kids had stopped reading for pleasure. The poll, by publisher Pearson UK, is just the most recent survey/study documenting shrinking attention spans and a corresponding drift from books. “Part of the problem is children don’t see their parents reading,” Levin says. “Obviously, the kids’ aren’t the only ones with diminishing attention spans.”

• Major publishers are producing lower-quality books. The big publishing houses today are more interested in a quality marketing plan than in the quality of the book, so we’re being deluged by low-quality books. One reason is that many large publishers have stopped taking on the expense of marketing books, but they know it’s necessary for sales. So they take on authors with a marketing plan and budget. They’re also less interested in “star” authors, who demand higher royalties. They also lost authors when they eliminated advances in response to the 2008 recession.

• Books are moving to devices, where content is free and time is thin-sliced. Online, you don’t expect to pay for content. People will expect books available online to be either free or very inexpensive, and if those books turn out to be one chapter of ideas and eleven chapters of Hamburger Helper, they will be less willing to pay for them. Also, people don’t spend much time going into depth online; books are supremely inappropriate for the surface-skimming nature of the Internet. Once people have bought a bunch of ebooks they’ve never started, they’ll stop buying them altogether.

• Authors have a more difficult time earning a livable wage. Fewer authors can earn enough to make writing a full-time job. The audience is shrinking and fewer people are willing to pay $15 for a paper book when cheap alternatives are available. “We’ve already seen more books written to promote a product, service or company, or to brand the writer so he or she can pursue a more lucrative field,” Levin says. “Most books of the future will be marketing tools, since that’s the only way they’ll be profitable.”

Levin does find reason for hope, but it will require publishers to change how they do business.
“They need to stop trying to go after the mass market, which doesn’t exist anymore, settle on a niche and develop a brand. Publishers that stand for something in the reader’s mind – like Harlequin stands for romance – are built for the long haul,” he says.
Instead of publishing 500 low-quality books every year, major publishers should bring out only 50 top-quality winners and actually market them, he says. And publish how-to and other guidance and instructional books in concentrated form: short, powerful and to the point,
The rest of us have a job to do, too, Levin adds.
“People need to read, and they need to read to their kids or buy them books. If people stop demanding good books, there eventually will be none available,” he says. “The winners, going forward, will be that minority who still read and think for themselves. It’s a lot easier for government, the military, and the corporate world to control the way people think if they aren’t reading for themselves. That ought to be reason enough to save the book.”

About Michael Levin

Michael Levin, founder and CEO of BusinessGhost, Inc., has written more than 100 books, including eight national best-sellers; five that have been optioned for film or TV by Steven Soderbergh/Paramount, HBO, Disney, ABC, and others; and one that became “Model Behavior,” an ABC Sunday night Disney movie of the week. He has co-written with Baseball Hall of Famer Dave Winfield, football broadcasting legend Pat Summerall, NBA star Doug Christie and Hollywood publicist Howard Bragman, among others. As a publishing consultant, Michael’s best-selling clients include ZigZiglar, Michael Gerber and Jay Abraham. He was the editor for Ziglar’s most recent book, “Born To Win.”

Allbooks Reviews INTERVIEW:

Please state your name and location. (city and State or Province, Country)
David V. Mammina lives in Lindenhurst, NY, USA

Tell us the title and publisher of your book:
The Angels of Resistance, published by David V. Mammina and printed by Lulu Press.

Tell us about yourself:
Born and raised on Long Island, NY, David V. Mammina has striven to make a name for himself. He went to Lindenhurst Schools and graduated in 2000. He then made his way to Nassau Community College and received his first degree. He then attended Stony brook and acquired his next degree in History. Finally, David got his Masters in Special Education and Social Studies. He specializes
In writing dark fantasy and has been featured at the Comic Con in New York City and the I-CON at Stony brook. David is very family oriented as he attributes most of his success to them. He works in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn now as a special education teacher.

When was the book released?
July 2, 2012

Give us an overview of your book.
One thousand years after the assumed apocalypse, a demonic army known as the Demon Plague has invaded the new world. With various races and cultures split by their differences, one man inspires them to unite in order to defeat the unfathomable evil force.
What inspired you to write this book?
It had taken me five years to write this story, which happens to be my personal favorite. Once the world experiences an apocalyptic event, many people have their theories of how humankind would survive. I had loved the idea that, in time, people would gather around their familiar cultures and move on. Yet, they would not be united until a great and terrible event forced them to look past their differences and fight for each other instead of themselves.

How is your book different from other books in this genre?
The dark fantasy genre can often be misunderstood by many. I mend good character developed stories in a realistic world with deep fantastical undertones. Not only will this book capture your imagination as it is a tale that I believe is wildly original, but it is hard to put down. It is a book for the genre that can be read by any avid reader.

Where can people buy your book?
This book is available on most online bookstores, but one can find it in paperback and hardcover at my website: http://www.MamminaBooks.com

Are you working on another book? If so when do you expect it to be published?
I am always working on another book. I love to write, as it is my passion to write meaningful stories. The most recent involves a holy knight who committed sins of vengeance and must now redeem himself. It is a compelling story and a very relatable character.

If you self published, what advice can you give to fellow writers?
Market and network! Tell everyone what you’ve done and why it’s a great read, with a sense of humility of course. Expose your material to any venue possible, such as newspapers, magazines, radio, table mats at diners, conventions, Facebook, etc. But number one, don’t write expecting money. Write because you love it and believe in it.

If published traditionally, tell us how you benefited:
NA

Can you share one of your marketing successes with us?
I have found creating a website where potential readers of your work can easily find your books to be a great tool. Facebook and twitter are good digital exposure venues. But nothing beats a good convention, like Comic Con, Dragon Con, and other reading conventions.

How did you find Allbooks Reviews and what are you hoping for in your relationship with us?
I have discovered this company online while searching for reviewers and I have only positive things to say about it. It’s an affordable and valuable service for self-published authors. I would like some exposure online through the company as I am very committed in sharing my work with any many people as I can.

Was the low cost a surprise? What other things would you like Allbooks Reviews to offer writers?
The low cost was a surprise indeed. I would gladly pay an extra fee for some more exposure to other websites and/or places where books are shared.

Thank you for this interview and best of luck with your book.

Interview with Stan Popovich author of FEAR

Posted in Uncategorized on November 26, 2012 by Allbooks Review International

Please state your name and location. (city and State or Province, Country)
Stan Popovich from Pittsburgh, PA (USA)

Tell us the title and publisher of your book:
A Layman’s Guide To Managing Fear” By Stan Popovich and published by Treble Heart Books. My book is located at http://www.managingfear.com

Tell us about yourself:
I am a Penn State graduate with a computer and business background and I have 20 years of personal experience in dealing with fear and anxiety.

When was the book released?:
October 2003. Since my book is about stress, anxiety and fear, my topic and book doesn’t become outdated. Everyone deals with fear and that will never change.

Give us an overview of your book.
My book, which is at http://www.managingfear.com is a comprehensive review on how to deal with fear, anxiety, and stress. My book gives an overview on what techniques are available in dealing with fear, anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues. Please visit my article section at my website for a quick preview of my book.

What inspired you to write this book?
I dealt with anxiety for over 20 years and I kept a notebook of different ways to deal with my fears. One day I decided to get my notes published into a small booklet which lead to my current book.

How is your book different from other books in this genre?
My book goes over the techniques that are available for someone who deals with fear and anxiety. My book talks about how to overcome your fears and gives concrete and easy to understand examples. My book is very effective in finding the answers to your particular fears. Please visit my website http://www.managingfear.com for more information.

Where can people buy your book?
At my website http://www.managingfear.com

Are you working on another book? If so when do you expect it to be published?
Not At This Time. I write articles on how to deal with different mental health issues to help promote my book. Please do an internet search of “Stan Popovich” or “Stanley Popovich” to see Stan’s latest articles.

If you self published, what advice can you give to fellow writers?
I am not self published, however writing the book is only half of it. Marketing the book is another job in itself.

If published traditionally, tell us how you benefited:
I didn’t have to spend a lot of money to get my book published. My publisher helped me to get my book ready.

Can you share one of your marketing successes with us?
I have been interviewed on various radio and TV programs, I got many articles published in various magazines and websites, and people around the world have bought my book.

How did you find Allbooks Reviews and what are you hoping for in your relationship with us?
I did an internet search and was hoping to help pass the word about my book.

Was the low cost a surprise? What other things would you like Allbooks Reviews to offer writers?
I noticed the low cost and based on the services offered I decided it was worth using your services.

Thank you for this interview and best of luck with your book.

Review of When Wolf Comes, written by John Pappas

Posted in Uncategorized on November 22, 2012 by Allbooks Review International

Aidan Ephraim Martin was a man whose life took turns that no one could have ever predicted. The challenges he met after that fateful day in 1801 when he sat down for a drink in a public house after a hard day of fishing would have killed a lesser man. Being knocked unconscious and waking up as a captive seaman, miles out to sea, didn’t stop Aidan from living. Becoming a refugee at an isolated Spanish mission in northern California didn’t cause Aidan to lose heart. The all too brief interlude as a free seaman led to Aidan’s greatest test. He was grievously wounded, captured, and sold as a slave to a tribe in what we now call the Pacific Northwest.
Only at the end of this cleverly written tale of adventure can the reader come to understand what survival means.
Writing is an art. History is a science. To mix them together so they form a uniform and cohesive whole takes a passion and a love for both along with a strong desire to share. In this book John Pappas has demonstrated all this.
In writing historical fiction an author locks himself into a set of rules. These rules include everything that is entailed in the times during which the writing is to occur. All the actions of the characters are limited by the technology of the time, the clothing, social rules, etc. Even though it is fiction which implies that everything is pretend, using a historical setting means there are usually a set of expectations. To resolve a plot question an author can’t suddenly have a poet in 1750 Japan invent an electric generator using western principles. It just doesn’t work.
What works is John Pappas careful use of what had to be deep research into the history of the time. His characters use what is realistically at hand. Aidan’s toolkit is never complete, but completely realistic. His knowledge of ironworking is a beginner’s level which improves as he teaches himself and makes use of what is at hand. This book is definitely highly recommended and will not disappoint. This reviewer is ardently awaiting any possible future installment of Aidan’s life.Reviewer: John Helman, Allbooks ReviewsInternational
Title: When Wolf Comes
Author: John Pappas
Publisher: Orca11 Books
ISBN: 978-1-4276-3606-5
Pages: 289
April 2012
For more info: orca11.com

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