It took me a few days to get around to looking DartFrog up.  Something about the interaction gave me a strange vibe, and I was right, but I'll come back to that.  Here's their mission statement: "Every year there are an estimated 450,000 self-published titles released into an overcrowded literary marketplace. Unfortunately, most of those books will live forever in total obscurity. But, there are within that mass of self-published books, some real gems. DartFrog finds those gems and distributes them to our partner bookstores."

O-kay.  So, sounds good, but how does it work?  I clicked on every link that looked as though it'd give me a straight answer. "About Us"?  Mission Statement and glamour shots of the staff.  "Why Dartfrog"?  Buzzwords and all the stuff that sounds too good to be true, no numbers or details.  "Our Standards"?  Some stuff about quality control that's just a little bit condescending, if you ask yours truly... and it had typos.  (I laughed.  A lot.)   

Oh, wait.  "Author Agreement".   Finally, I thought, something that  should lay it out in black and white.  Click: "The author agreement is a straight forward document that seeks to remove all the legalese that most of us don't read or understand anyway! But there are a few highlights that you should know."  Not only is that on the edge of condescension ... but the full, actual text of that agreement isn't anywhere I could find on the website.  Presumably, you only get it after you've started the sign-up process.

So I made a mock order for In The Cards.   It asks some straight-forward questions about your book: did you edit/format it yourself, how long is it, what's the ISBN/genre, etc.  But it doesn't even tell you what your order form is doing.  Or how much it'll cost.   I hit "proceed to payment" and was hit with the sticker shock: $350.   

Let me reiterate: I still don't know what, exactly, I'm paying for, here.

I clicked back out of the cart - or, in the vernacular, "noped out like nobody's business" - and tried to dig a little deeper to see what that price tag entailed.  The closest thing I could find to ANY detail about what my money would buy was on "Why DartFrog":

DartFrog evaluates your book to ensure that it meets a standard-of-excellence bookstores require. Those books that do, we make available for distribution to our network of partner bookstores. If your book is not ready for distribution, we will tell you what needs to be fixed and allow you to re-submit when the changes have been made. We do not charge an additional fee for a second evaluation.

Oh.  So I'd be paying DartFrog $350 to pat me on the head and tell me my book is good, and then add it to a catalog they give to a (so far) very small list of indie stores.  How is that any different than an agent or a publisher?  I don't really think it is.  Sure, that 70/30 split afterwards is pretty nice, but I'd have to spend an initially HUGE chunk of money that I don't have.  There's very little about their evaluation team, so I don't even know if the people I'm paying to vet my book would be fair or unbiased.  

Given that I had to do a half hour's worth of web surfing to find all this, I'm pretty unimpressed.  If you're a web-based service, you're catering intrinsically to people who are used to very fast service: go to the site, find what you need, get it, get out, move on with your day.  I know I'm preaching to the choir here, but self-published authors' time is precious enough without having to constantly verify and vet their potential allies and business collaborators.   I could have spent that half hour connecting with my peers, making marketing graphics, preparing for my new collaboration release, or - oh, hey! actually writing more.    Instead, I'm here.   Because I get the increasing feeling that I need to share these experiences with you all, to save you the time and make your life as fellow authors a little easier.  

We're all in this together.  I've never felt that it's about the money - but saving it where and when we can is crucial.  Being transparent and communicating about what works, what's fair, and what things really are is even more important.  

In the end, I passed on BookFrog because I just can't spare that kind of money for a random person's validation.  If you can, I don't judge: in fact, I'd love to know what you think.  If you've had experiences with BookFrog, yourself, please leave me a comment or shoot me an email.  I want to be proven wrong: I want to believe that there really are people out there who genuinely want to help find the good indie books, give them the love they deserve, and build a mutual relationship ... not just take our money and laugh all the way to the bank.

Until next time, dream on, write on, and stay amazing!

The more independent authors I meet, the more I realize just how diverse yet wonderfully alike we all are.  No matter what the genre, no matter what our involvement in social media, our politics, our personal lives ... we all have stories to tell which we are incredibly passionate about.   When an author's passion combines with a long-simmering desire to share those stories, the results often touch the heart: and Timothy Savage's debut, Davey's Savior, is no exception.

The eponymous Davey is a four-year-old growing up in Avila Beach with his single father, Sketch: and from the first chapter, we know they have secrets they are keeping from the community.  Sketch goes out of his way to keep a low profile: it becomes clear fast that no one in Avila actually knows his full name.  Davey's curious and outgoing nature is a dangerous counterpoint to this secrecy, and secrets begin to come to light when a whale shark is found washed up on the beach.  
The owner of the local coffee shop, Anthony, is convinced that a blemish on the carcass looks like the face of Christ, and manages to make a photo of it go viral, drawing more and more people to the town.  Among the visitors are a trio of Mexican nuns on a pilgrimage and a marine biologist, each with their own problems and challenges to face.  As Davey and Sketch's secrets come to light, every one of them comes together in a climax I did not  expect.

The novel starts out at a slow burn: Savage makes it very plain that Sketch and Davey have things to hide... big, potentially dangerous things.  Aside from the discovery of the whale shark, this is the major thrust of the first third of the book.  I admit that at first, I was frustrated by how much The Secret was dangled in front of my face: how often Sketch would fret and worry and obscure, despite any further clues to what he was hiding.  I was so preoccupied with this that I missed the artful, tiny clues peppered throughout the story which foretold the climactic moments of the book.  In retrospect, then, my frustration was negated, and I feel like I owe Tim Savage an apology for judging him a little in "stringing me along".   What he did with his story is masterful: not just in its obfuscation of the plot twist, but in completely leading this reader in one direction at first, and then turning my expectations upside down in terms of theme, as well.   

There were a few rough patches: notably the text conversations of Kendra, the marine biologist,  which were a little jarring next to the prose, and some of the build-up between the whale shark's arrival and the furthering of the plot.  But for those willing to forgive the novel its flaws, it has a fine reward.  

When Anthony first hatches his plan to draw in customers through the miracle of the whale shark, readers may assume - as I did - that the titular Savior was meant to be Jesus Christ, and that the novel was about to take a heavily religious turn.  The trio of nuns reinforced this ... but each character's own personal challenges eventually make it clear that this is not a novel about the saving power of Christianity, but the role of any form of faith in life.   By setting the reader up and then dropping his twists and turns, Tim Savage makes them think right along with the characters ... connecting them to the book even more deeply.   The book I found so slow to start was impossible to put down by the time I reached its second half.   Davey's Savior is the literary equivalent of a log flume ride: you drift along for most of it, but the climb and the plunge at the end are so satisfying that you'll end up wanting to go again.  

You can ​get your own copy of Davey's Savior here on Amazon.  Tim Savage can be found most often on Twitter, and occasionally at his blog, Extemporalia.  

I hope you've enjoyed my two cents this week, and that you'll join me again next Wednesday for whatever the moment brings!  
​Until next time, I remain your hostess,

Throne of Lies is the first in a fantasy trilogy, written for Young Adults.  Its heroine, Amethysta, is a princess unhappy with her destiny: to ascend to the throne of her kingdom.  She also posesses a strange ability which has come to light just prior to the beginning of the story, and must keep it a secret from the kingdom for fear of how they might react.   The typical duties of a queen-in-training - studies, social niceties, betrothal - all stretch Amethysta to her breaking point, and she begins to rebel in what small ways she can.  When too many things go wrong in too short a time, she begins to finally seek out answers about her mysterious abilities, and where they came from.  Her questions and troubles all come to a head at the ball where she is  meant to formally assume the role of the heir to the throne, and by the end of the night, the stage is well set for the second book in the series.

Sara Secora's greatest strength as an author is her honest, straightforward portrayal of Amethysta.  As a teen, she is subject to mood swings, a rebellious streak, and the confusion of first love ... and Secora handles them all deftly.   The novel is told from Amethysta's point of view (aside from an attention-grabbing prologue), and her voice is not only convincing, but real.  Some of the other reviews I have read lambaste Amethysta for being "wishy-washy" ... I consider this a great strength which lends to fantastic character development over the course of the trilogy.  We know quite quickly, as readers, that we will be watching her grow up, and I have little doubt that the end of the third book will show her to have grown into a strong, capable woman.

The only complaint I have about the novel is not even a complete problem: the plot contains several standard fantasy cliches.  However, they are each given just enough of a twist or alteration so that they are still enjoyable, even though the reader can make a pretty fair guess as to what will happen.  Reading Throne of Lies was like going on a drive through the town where you grew up: the roads are all still familiar, but so much has changed along the way that there are still plenty of pleasant surprises.  

Also of note is the amount of detail and work put into creating Amethysta's world.  Her history lessons with her professor, the somewhat suspicious and memorable Gethin, showcase details of a richly layered history which hints at possible directions for the current plot.  Secora's prose is in turns both simple and elaborate, flowing like the best of the high fantasy novels I grew up with: Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman's countless Dragonlance trilogies and the work of Brian Jacques especially come to mind.   If you know a teen who loves fantasy, or is struggling with anxiety issues, this book would make a wonderful gift.  You can find it here on Amazon.  For more information about Sara Secora, please feel free to visit her website!

Thanks for joining me this week, and I'll see you all back here next Wednesday!
Until then, let your imagination lift you into the light,

I’ve had the pleasure of knowing Jette Harris since my early Twitter authoring days, and the good fortune to be one of her beta readers for her gut-wrenching thriller series “My Name Is Not Heather Stokes”.  In between its first installment, Colossus, and the upcoming Two Guns, she began work on “Phoenix Rising”, a series of novellas which follows the sinister serial killer known as The Phoenix along the path which leads him to the man we see in Colossus.  It begins in his youth, and is projected to follow him right up to the events of “My Name Is Not Heather Stokes”.   Here is my unsolicited, unbiased, unvarnished review of the two existing novellas.

I must begin by saying that ALL of Harris’ novels contain unbridled scenes of abuse, both emotional and physical.  If you cannot read such things, for any reason, I recommend that you steer clear.  If you’re still with me, let’s begin.

We begin in rural Colorado, with young Thaddeus “Thatch” Adams.  He and his mother live on Flint Ranch, a small horse farm, with his uncle, Jed.  It is clear from page one that their surrogate home is anything but safe.  Under Jed’s crooked, cruel rule of the household, nothing is allowed to remain innocent. Flint Ranch becomes a place where angels fear to tread, as the few allies Thatch and his mother have abandon them.  When a pack of wolves menaces the farm, uncle and nephew are both pushed to their breaking point.

It is suggested that Jed’s business dealings are as crooked as his morals, and that backed himself into a corner with his dealings: one reason why he may be taking his anger out on his family.  He is never fully fleshed out, which is for the best: it makes it easier for the reader to demonize him in the same way that Thatch does.   The solace he finds in the horses is simply written, but poignant: they become his second family in scenes which are a perfect counterpoint to Jed’s abuse.

Thatch’s abuse is rough to watch, because Harris holds no punches.   Her prose is raw and unapologetic, and there were times when I felt my throat and stomach tighten - particularly during one brutal scene in the barn.  But Thatch’s first acts of rebellion are the seeds which will help him survive … and grow into the man who becomes Avery Rhodes.
​
The prose is quick, rough, and jerks from phrase to phrase, mimicking the anxiety and tension so perfectly that it’s hard not to empathize with Thatch, especially as he enters his teenage years and begins to fully comprehend what has been going on around him.   Flint Ranch’s ending is abrupt, but it feels right: cut off with a final line as sharp as a gunshot.  Even though the novella clocks in at under 100 pages, it carries an impact that lingers.

Not long after the events of Flint Ranch, Thatch is sent to Colorado Springs.  There, he enters the care of his father Wren Chares, a Greek mechanic.  In the course of adjusting to his new home and school, Thatch begins to slowly recover from the abuse he suffered at Jed’s hands.  But pieces of Wren’s history still haunt him, and they will come back to affect Thatch, too…
​
I was just as anxious as Thatch to meet Wren Chares.  I, too, feared that he might be another abusive figure, but I was quickly proven wrong, and grew to love him as a character.  His quiet demeanor and gentle insistence upon manners and sophistication, despite his lower-class stature, are a refreshing polar opposite to the horrors of Flint Ranch.  Harris’ writing reflects this, losing a great deal of the brusque pacing and tension she strung through the previous novella. 

Thatch’s post-traumatic state of mind is treated with a deft hand, showing us the lingering after-effects of abuse, both physical and emotional.   One scene in particular, when Thatch is shown to his new room, is heart-breakingly beautiful, and his responses to what were considered “normal” locker room antics in the 1970s are revelatory.

Wren’s moonlighting job is handled with equal mastery, as Thatch begins to sort out his own opinions on the nature of the world, what he might want to do with the rest of his life, and his own attractions. 
doctor as his father tells him stories of his own compassion and resilience, and learns first-hand by accompanying him on house calls to the brothel, where he begins to sort out his own attractions.  I dare not give anything away, but the climactic scene of the novella is the birth of Thatch’s purpose, and brings joy mixed with tragedy.   Where Flint Ranch was the record of Thatch’s pain, Salvage lays down the first, tentative steps toward his recovery… and ends on a note even more abrupt.

To wrap things up, I must stress that despite the graphic scenes which scar Thatch, there is far more to these novellas than shock value - if anything, it is not what happens to characters which is of note, but how they handle themselves in the aftermath.   Thatch’s progression from victim to tentative survivor is what has me waiting on the edge of my comfy reading chair for the next novella.

You can find all of Jette's published works on her Amazon author page, here.   Please also take a moment to follow her on Twitter and Facebook, and visit her Wordpress blog, where she frequently shares excerpts from her work in progress, and shorter pieces.

​With that, I am going to tuck this blog in for a NaNoWriMo nap, and I will see you all in December!  Thanks to all of you for your continued support - I wouldn’t be here without you! 
​
Until next time, 

Hello, everyone!  Welcome back Between The Lines... I hope you're all ready for a thrill ride, this week, because I've got a fantastic one lined up for you!  Before we start talking about the most breakneck-paced book I've read this year, I feel obligated to remind you that this is an unsolicited, unbiased review: I was not approached or compensated by the publisher or author in any way.  Now that the legalese is out of the way, climb on in, stow your belongings in the mesh compartment in the seat in front of you, pull the bar down 'til it clicks, and get ready to follow me on a wild ride through Cori Lynn Arnold's novel Thin Luck!

Robyn Hughes was a successful TV reporter in Connecticut (a little ways from Aviario, perhaps?) before a terrible accident got her arrested.  Now, after serving her prison term, she returns home, wanting nothing more than to reacquaint herself with her husband Nick and their infant son, Kyle.  But Nick never comes to pick her up, and by the time she's able to get home, he and Kyle are both gone.   With most of her resources stripped down, and no one willing to trust her, Robyn has to rely on her own street smarts and her investigative reporter's instinct to track Nick across the country so that she can get Kyle back.  As the title implies, however, luck is not on her side, and a string of unfortunate mishaps begin to amass until Robyn is wanted once more, this time with her own criminal nickname: "The Bonnie Without A Clyde".   When Detective Turner is assigned to track Robyn down, he must put together the pieces and bring her in ... but he discovers something else in her past which might change how things work out for everyone involved.

From page one, I wanted to know what was going on: who Robyn was, why she'd been in prison.  Cori Lynn Arnold has a deft hand for suspense, stringing it taut between chapters like a violin.  Robyn's cross-country quest to find Nick and Kyle is reminiscent of The Fugitive. I would say that it would make for an amazing mini-series adaptation, but it doesn't need one: Arnold's descriptions are at once rich and succinct, putting you in the scene without slowing down the story.  Readers careen along with Robyn from one chance encounter to the next, and every stranger she meets is as richly detailed as our heroine.  Things connect and branch off each other in unexpected, delightful ways, and culminate in a California showdown which left me holding my breath with every page turn.   

My only thing which took me a little out of the read was the fact that Arnold switches from Robyn's first-person voice to third-person during the scenes with Detective Turner ... but it grew on me as the novel progressed.  Hearing Robyn's tale in her voice not only makes it easier to see inside her mind, but helps wrap the reader up in it all and forget that outside of everything that Robyn is dealing with, life rolls on.   When Detective Turner comes on the scene, only then do we catch glimpses of the ripples the plot is making in the "real" world, and asked to decide if we really do want to root for Robyn.

The little details really help this book shine: each chapter begins with Robyn's location, and the codes for whatever law she breaks in that location, leaving us to guess how it's actually going to happen.  All in all, this was a fantastic novel: I read it in a little over a day, and after skimming through it to find the high points for this review, found myself wanting to read it again.  Those who prefer e-books will find Chapter 18 worth the price, alone, but I expect that I'll be purchasing a printed copy for my shelf at some point in the future.  

You can get your own copy of Thin Luck here on Amazon, or through Smashwords.  Cori Lynn does not have a blog, but you can follow her on Twitter,  Facebook, or Goodreads!

Thank you for joining me for another indie book review!  Please remember that reviews are what help independent authors like Cori and me sell books ... if you read something, review something!  I hope you'll join me next week for another review - this one's a double-shot: two novellas by Jette Harris! 

​Until then, as always, I remain your hostess,