I’ve updated the title of my book to Red Dragon’s Keep. There’s a red dragon figure on the east wall of the Keep, so the new title makes sense. How do you like the new cover?
A Get Red Dragon’s Keep Published fundraising campaign is running at www.indiegogo.com. The short url is https://igg.me/at/red-dragons-keep. There are just a few more things that need to be done before the launch date on July 14. I have to purchase ISBN numbers, have the interior design layout done, and purchase marketing materials.
Here are a few of the fun perks that you get for various funding levels:
Pledge $25 or more – This donation comes with a sassy motivational postcard and a heartfelt THANK YOU for your support.
Pledge $35 or more -Receive an e-reader download of the book when it rolls out, along with a heartfelt THANK YOU and a Red Dragon’s Keep magnet to post on the fridge!
Pledge $45 or more – WANT ONE! Receive a first edition copy of the book when it rolls out, Red Dragon’s Keep magnet to post on your fridge, and heartfelt THANK YOU!
Pledge $75 or more – Receive TWO signed copies of the book with a personal message when it rolls out…one for you and one for a friend. Also enjoy an e-reader download for all you techie-types, a Red Dragon’s Keep magnet to post on the fridge…and of course a heartfelt THANK YOU!
See what I mean? There are lots more. Go to https://igg.me/at/red-dragons-keep and check them out. We can make this happen!
Final edits are in proceeding as I write. I’m checking off each item on my marketing plan and I’m in the beginning phase of planning the Red Dragon’s Keep book launch party.
Here’s another excerpt from the book.
Deep purple shadows slowly lengthened across the cart path that Marta Halloran trudged along towards the steading. The path followed the river as best it could, sometimes close, sometimes avoiding dense copses of trees or marshy areas filled with mud and cattails along the riverbanks.
The back of her coarse brown skirt was drawn up between her legs and through her belt in the front, keeping it out of her way. The wooden yoke she carried across her shoulders was heavy. Baskets on either end of the yoke held the things she’d bought in the village. The treats, spices and notions that the steading couldn’t produce had taken longer to buy than she’d allowed for.
She wished she’d been able to ride one of the horses into the village but they were all in use clearing the fields of hay for the coming winter. She tried to move at an even pace so that the baskets didn’t swing too hard, yet she also hurried as quickly as she could. Everyone knew there were Deamhans roaming from sunset to sunrise.
The westering sun sank behind the mountain. It disappeared and the temperature dropped. A chill crept up Marta’s spine. She was a half a mile from home. She hoped that she could reach it quickly.
The grey river on her right swirled and gurgled against its bank. Dark woods on her left seemed to lean closer over the path, leafless branches trying to reach for her burden. Something rustled in the depths of the trees. Branches snapped as a heavy body pushed through them. She glanced fearfully into the deepening gloom.
She began to jog towards home. The path swung away from the river. The baskets swung wildly with each jarring step.
Panting and grunting, snapping and breaking of brush and small trees on both sides of the path sounded behind her. She must not look. She gasped for breath. Her heart thundered in her chest. Fear sweat streamed down her face. A grunting cough sounded right behind her. She dropped the yoke and took off running. Baskets shattered, releasing food and goods across the path.
She burst out of the trees into the meadow that fronted her family’s Steading. Fear gripped her muscles as she tried to run faster. Standing at the gate through the wooden walls of the Steading, her father and two brothers held lit torches against the gathering darkness. They gripped old swords and spears kept from the last war, other weapons standing sentinel behind them, thrust into the ground within easy reach.
Marta heard grunting and heavy panting behind her. The thud of many feet shook the ground.
“Run, Marta! Run!” screamed her father.
She shrieked voicelessly in fear as she hurtled towards the gate.
Her brother drew back his arm and launched the spear that he held towards her. It flew over her right shoulder. A howl sounded almost in her ear. She ducked away and found a little extra speed.
I’ll be taking pre-orders at the beginning of June.
Write On!
Natli VanDerWerken
