Everybody Loves Dragons

I don't boast often, but when I do it's because everybody knows it.

Just like everybody loves dragons.

Here is my boast:

I am amazing at hand-selling books. There. Now you know too. I usually sell out at any signing or convention I go to. Once, down at Archon, I sold out on the first day, then helped other authors sell their books to unsuspecting con-goers. Besides a litany of tactics I use (including wearing my kilts ;) ), I love to come up with silly slogans on the spot for each of my books and then shout them at passersbys. While there's a slogan for each of my main books, I'm pretty sure my favorite one is what I shout for The Grey Isle Tale: "EVERYBODY LOVES DRAGONS!" I cry. I'm not afraid to make it personal, either. I'll pick out someone unfortunate to make eye contact with me and then shout, "YOU LIKE DRAGONS, RIGHT?" The crowd swivels their eyes toward the unlucky soul until they sheepishly admit the truth that yes, they do like dragons too.

Don't worry, it's all in good fun :)

Something about The Grey Isle Tale has made that little novella of mine a clear best-seller in my growing series of fantasy books. It has the most reviews too. My literary writer brain tries to dissect why this is so. Is it the pacing? The short but not too short length? The awesome cover done by my illustrator, Laura Faraci (Thanks, Laura!)? Whatever the reason, that book is always the first to sell out at any event. I find this all weird because while Rienspel took me almost a decade to write, The Grey Isle Tale took me maybe four months. It was just a toss off. Some idea I scribbled down early during the Rienspel writing days. After I finished Rienspel, I wondered what I should work on next until I stumbled across my earlier Grey Isle Tale scribbles. One summer later the rough draft was finished.

If you haven't read it yet, here's a teaser (just for you):

The sea breeze rustled through the pine forest where Janos stood, watching the hazy coastline extend for miles. Here and there, merchant vessels or little fishing boats bobbed along the iron-grey froth of the Ocean Vaste. The metal circlet balanced firmly on his head felt unnatural. Janos constantly had to fight the urge to swipe the damn thing off. He had to also restrain a similar urge with the heavy, overly-encrusted silver saber hanging from his waist.

“Your Highness, are you completed with inspecting the Tower Oros?” asked the local captain.

Janos wracked his mind briefly for her name… “What was it, again?” his memory had always been terrible. Every so often Janos tried to practice the memory games his etiquette tutor had suggested… but the trouble with forgetfulness is…

“Now what was I thinking about again? … Hmmm… It’s Gisele. Captain Gisele Perrault.” Prince Janos remembered with sudden relief. Turning to address the raven-haired captain, he smiled and nodded his approval. “Yes, Gis… Captain…” Janos cleared his throat over the etiquette mistake.

Captain Gisele blushed but still stood like a straight razor, raptly attentive.

All around them now, the salty sea winds brushed against their lips and ears. A gust caught in the prince’s long cape tangling it in the captain’s curly black hair.

Janos fidgeted. He didn’t like being embarrassed. Unbidden, the prince could still hear his father’s gruff words