itsjoysworld.net

I made a promise with my all too supportive friends, that when my tiny brand new author page hit 300 likes I would post the first three pages of Breaking Faith. I guess this also proves I have actually created a book, and I am not just blowing smoke up people’s butts. So without further procrastination…

Breaking Faith

Chapter 1

“Oww, shit!” I cried, as I pulled my oozing finger back and stuck it in my mouth.

Glaring at the offending messenger bag, or more specifically the felonious paper sticking out of it, I fought back the tears and expelled a bitter laugh.

My eyes stayed glued to the awful document that signified escape. How dare it hurt me! It was a paper replica of the person it was protecting me from, a façade of security but in reality nothing but pain.

I glanced back at my injured finger to see if anymore blood came trickling out. A thin red line appeared, nothing more. No rivulets of crimson, no summoning of vampires for an all-you-can-suck buffet, just a small droplet of blood, nothing major. I grabbed a tissue to wipe it away, crisis averted. Life continued.

I snuggled further into my hoodie as the interior of my lime-green 67′ Mustang cooled in the night air. My body begged me to turn on the heater. I refused, afraid of getting too comfortable.

I was parked in front of a typical dive bar. The wood exterior was stained with matter that would horrify even the most seasoned forensic team.

A large neon sign on the top of the bar announced its name, Ray’s. It ignited the parking lot, bathing the closest cars in red. A marquee in the front boasted that Ray’s was the home of the JackholeS, a popular Portland band.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to fill myself with fake confidence, hoping this time to succeed, I didn’t.

I gave myself permission to dwell on Jason for five minutes. After that I would file him away in the dark recesses of my mind, just like the paperwork for the restraining order buried in the county clerk’s office.

Leaning back in the driver’s seat, I welcomed the images of my past as they flashed through my mind. I watched my own personal horror movie stuck on fast forward. Significant moments slowed, giving insight on how I ended up sitting in my car, outside a bar, broken and bruised.

*

When I received a scholarship out of state, excitement and heartbreak coursed through me. Oregon State University offered me an escape, the payment they required, I had to leave my dad.

My dad is a retired police chief, and my biggest supporter. My mom was the complete opposite, and couldn’t handle motherhood. Her mind was stuck in a high school mentality. On my fourth birthday she left, taking the amber-tinted bottles lining her bathroom sink with her.

After cleaning up my ruined party, my dad held me in a soul-crushing embrace, and told me it was us against the world. The older I became the more responsibilities I shouldered, taking his statement to heart.

I could never be the typical teenager my mommy-issues ran too deep. Parties and other rites of passage which shepherd a teen into adulthood, were not high on my list of priorities.

I wanted to post this on Friday, but I have been non-stop since coming back from Vegas. So many things happened in Vegas that I decided to break the trip in half.

Thursday I had to wait until JM got off work before we could leave. Trips stress me the fuck out. I am not the biggest fan of change especially to my routine. So after many mind anxiety filled moments we were on the road. We had to drop some thing off with my parents before we could actually hit the road. This meant a detour to Bakersfield the half-way point.

My parents were stuck in traffic so we decided to wait at a park. I went ghetto and touched up my toe-nails while sitting on the grass (I know, but it is Bakersfield so I didn’t feel too bad.) I was then dared to get on the monkey bars. I tried to get out of it. I explained I was too old to be playing on the damn monkey bars, but in the end my dumb ass relented. I am proud to say I got to three before I fell on my ass (the third bar was slippery) because I didn’t want to ruin my newly painted nails I maneuvered myself so I landed on my hip and wrist feet up in the air.

A little girl about three or so ran up to me pointed at me and summoning her best Nelson from the Simpsons laughed. Yes I deserved it, and it made me laugh. There were probably only about thirty people in the park, but in my imagination there had to be about fifty. JM did an impressive job stifling his laugh. Yeah, who the hell am I kidding.

After leaving my parents (No I did not tell them about my small stint as a gymnast.) We were officially on the road. Well, after I popped JM’s Sonic cherry that is. I haven’t had Sonic since coming back from Texas. I missed it.

On the four hour drive JM was very sweet in not mentioning my monkey bar fail. He only burst out laughing every thirty minutes or so. Usually that was followed by a “Hey, remember when you tried to do the monkey bars?” or “You fell” I know what a nice guy.

We finally made it to Vegas. Yay!!!

We stayed on Fremont Street because I found a killer deal. So really for the rest of the night we walked around downtown people watching.

That night while getting ready for bed I realized that I had forgot to pack a bra. I am so used to wearing sports bras that I completely forgot that I needed to wear big girl bras in public.

So the next morning JM and I went on a bra adventure before I was able to do anything. We found a mall on the outskirts of town. Being in Vegas I didn’t think that finding a DDD bra would be a big deal. Stupid me for thinking.

I went through Sears, JC Penny’s and I couldn’t tell you how many more only to see DD tags galore. JM found a Victoria Secret. I explained that there is no way they would have a DDD. He marched right in asked the lady and of course she pulls me over and hands me two different bras. Finding a proper cage for the girls I removed the tag and made JM pay for it so I could walk out with in a real big girl bra. (So do any of you get my post title yet?)

After bolting the girls on we made our way to Planet Hollywood where The Novel Experience was being held. Friday was the VIP event which I didn’t pay for so I really wasn’t allowed to go in yet. I went and wished Rebecca luck before getting kicked out. The authors wanted to go on a pub crawl after the VIP experience so JM and I walked around while they did their thing.

At nine I shouted out on FB asking where the pub crawl was starting. I swear it went radio silent right after I posted. It was like high school all over again. (Kidding) After a while I figured that they were having too much fun, and told JM I wanted to go back to downtown. He calmed me down and told me to wait. They finally answered me, and coincidentally we were right in front of the bar they were at. I chickened out. I didn’t want to go. JM had to practically push me into the bar.

As soon as I walked in everyone was so nice to me. Julie Morgan handed me a sticker tattoo spider thingy that I stuck on my cheek (this comes into play later) We were all having a good time when four guys from the UK crashed our party. They must have just turned 21 because they were bouncing around like baby goats. We ended up dubbing them the puppies.

Some of the authors let the puppies sign their boobs. Thankfully mine were covered. I got away with out being signed until I stupidly showed my friend Dayna my batman tattoo. The puppies saw it, and pounced. While they were signing one of them kept rubbing his thumb on my side. I screamed and asked him if he was licking me. He explained it was just his thumb. I told him to stop licking me with his thumb. This is how I ended up with two squirting penises on my back.

Even with accents they still couldn’t be mistaken for mature.

We left the puppies shortly after and ended up at the Rock Bar. This is also where I lost my license. Damn bull.

When the adorable little waitress asked me what I wanted to drink I drew a complete blank. What are the odds they would have diet Pepsi and Red Licorice Vodka? I asked her. They didn’t. I told her that I would leave it up to her, and to make it pretty.

She saw the tattoo on my cheek and tried to wipe it off. She then realized it was a fake tattoo, and started to laugh. I told her I knew  that I had swallowed everything. I made a fan.

When she came back she handed me two pink drinks. (did I mention it was buy one get one free?) I asked her what it was, and she told me it was sex on the beach. I asked her, “If you have sex on the beach and get sand in your vagina would you make pearls?” Some how I ended up with a free bull ride.

We danced. Well….they danced I bobbed. I can’t dance. Alicia the Bookwhore can however dance. I am still in awe at her moves.

This is Alicia with two men who were trying to see how far they could stretch what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

After dancing we made our way to the bull.

There was a man on the bull that kept unbuttoning his shirt. He saw a group of women and decided to throw on the charm. He asked if we thought he could stay on the bull for twenty seconds. I yelled up at him telling him if he unbuttoned his shirt another button he probably could.

After he was knocked off rather quickly I might add he came over to us telling us it is harder than it looked. I told him that we were women and used to taking a pounding. He left quickly after that.

I am a big talked. I thought I had gotten away with it too. When most of the girls had their turn on the bull I tried to get them outside to see the Bellagio fountains. They weren’t having none of that. Alicia came to my rescue and we ended up riding double on that damn bull.

This is where I lost my license. It is either residing near the bull’s ass or Alicia’s vagina.

After getting bucked off. (the bra held them firmly in place.) We went to watch the fountains. I decided they looked like synchronized ejaculations.

I took flat Ella Emerson with me. There are more pictures on other peoples camera somewhere.

I have tried to be diligent in posting on Friday…oops. Friday took the bullet train while I was busy with a handful of nakeds. Saturday I had two handfuls of nakeds. Now it’s Tuesday, whoops.
I’m sure nobody is waiting with bated breath to see what I decide to post so I am not worried about the lynch mob outside my door demanding I come up with something clever.
I was going to write something yesterday, but I found an opportunity to use the old bartering system to get something I needed. I gave my sister a hour and 40 minute massage in hopes she can do something with my hair before Vegas. I feel I am getting the upper hand out of the deal, but hey. She has been a hairdresser forever, and she is fanfuckingtastic at it.
Thinking of Vegas I was reminded of my first time. I was 24.  My parents had a rule no kids in Vegas, and being I am not athletically inclined I never had a reason to go there when I was younger.
My first trip to Vegas was during the Pro Rodeo something or other. I am not sure I have mentioned I have a thing for grabbing butts. Anyways there were a group of cowboys (belt buckles and all) standing around. There was a smaller cowboy in the group. He looked so lonely with his bigger friends wrapped around some form of bleach blonde. Feeling a need for my form of Batman justice I went over and grabbed a handful of his ass. Of course this is the exact time his very large towering hair of blondeness girlfriend came out of hiding and started yelling at me to stop touching her boyfriend. Like any smart (drunk) girl would do I fled the scene of the crime.
Little did I know this would be the start of a tradition (not a cowboy tradition but…butt…a new game)
The next year I went on a girls weekend to Laughlin. This is the same trip where my boob got stuck in a damn fishbowl glass. Here is that story.
https://itsjoysworld.net/2014/06/23/embarrassing-drunken-night-in-laughlin/
The girls were cracking up when I was telling them about my cowboy. They were also inebriated as we decided to play another game called “take a different color shot every hour” also I am a lightweight. So we made up a game where I would walk by an unsuspecting target of the girls choice grab a handful of their derriere and walk off meeting up with them at another location so they could tell me the reaction. I would not return to the scene of the crime. Also I wanted older gentlemen that wouldn’t be able to catch me.

Shit it is now almost Wednesday. I guess I should just post this damn thing. Next one will be better promise.

You wrote a book, what is it about?
This is the beginning of how you form your synopsis.
You tell people about your book. You watch their reactions to see what grabs them or bores them. (This is somewhat difficult for me as most of the people I tell are naked face down. Upside, they are stuck listening to me) You realize who is genuinely interested in your book. The market you will be selling to.
There is a lot of advice on how to write a synopsis. It seems that writing the “how to write a synopsis” is actually easier than writing a synopsis.
What will grab your readers?
What words do you string together in order for someone to give your book a try?
One person says to write it as if you are on an elevator with a potential reader, and you have only the short ride to sell it.
Normally when I am in an elevator I am staring as the numbers ascend or descend hoping the doors will open when I get to my destination. Seriously when the doors do not open immediately I am near panic.
I can’t imagine getting on an elevator and saying “Hi I’m Joy. I wrote a book, and this is what it is about.”
Well I just told a lie because for the sake of this post I will imagine myself doing just that.
Hi I’m Joy I wrote a book called Breaking Faith. It is a rock’n’roll romance. It’s about a girl named Faith (haha see what I did there?) It starts with her escaping an abusive relationship. She walks into a bar called Rays where she is going to confess to her friends what she has been living with.
All thoughts of her turbulent past scatter when she sets eyes on Killian (Kill) the lead singer of the bar band the JackholeS. Her brain refuses to acknowledge her attraction not trusting her instincts with the opposite sex, while her vagina is throwing out the welcome mat and baking cookies.
Kill does not do relationships. Been there done that and it didn’t end well. Now, he will screw you silly just as long as you realize he doesn’t do reruns.
They both can’t deny the magnetism pulling them together. It doesn’t help that a twist of fate has them living under the same roof, but they will both fight the attraction.
With the two of them refusing to acknowledge the emotions they evoke in each other.
With their pasts helping them resist the electric pull.
Is there any hope in finding redemption in each other?

Cheesy?
Did my potential reader get off the elevator floors before their destination?
Ugh..fucking synopses.

What if it were a movie trailer? (This has to be read in the action narrators voice)
One woman escaping the shackles of pain
One man haunted by his past.
Fate has flung them together
They fight their attraction
Do they give in and find salvation, or does their past rip them apart?
Only time will tell how this epic battle of wills ends.

Even more cheesy than the first?
Can’t I just write. Please buy this book for the synopsis?

How about a vague one?

After leaving something horrible behind can a person ever move on?
Does the past circulate through them guiding their decisions?
Keeping them away from a situation that could be remotely similar.
Are bad experiences thicker than good?
Like sludge in their veins weighing them down never letting them forget.
Can two people beaten down by so called love ever trust again?

No that one sounds like a hungover college student trying to write a report an hour before class.

Ugh…synopses are evil. When I finished Breaking Faith it was 400k words long. It has now been broken into two books and I am currently editing that down. How am I supposed to write something so small.

Oh well back to editing. Maybe a synopsis will fly into my head in the middle of the night. What do you suppose I should put under my pillow in order to attract the synopsis fairy?

I was going to title this post “Indie Authors Are Not Real Authors.”  Then I realized I would be doing the same thing I am about to rant on. Some weeks ago there was a post floating around Facebook where a blogger actually did title his post Indie Authors Are Not Real Authors. He had Facebook in an uproar. People were tagging their author friends to read this degrading article. I am surprised his server didn’t crash from the influx of people flocking to his site to read his post. I tried to read the comments, but there were sooooo many.

I will admit I didn’t read the whole article. The amount of bullshit he spouted off in the begging was enough to make a skyscraper reek of cow feces for months. What did he accomplish by posting this article?  He brought droves of angry indie authors to his site to voice their opinion. His stats must have been through the roof. So much so I knew if I would have titled this post the same way he did, my stats would have probably topped my highest day. I couldn’t do it with a clear conscience. How far do you go to get people to pay attention to your work? Is this a clever marketing scheme? This person clearly has no problem saying things that would hurt the people around him. He clearly loves himself some himself.  Looking out for number one, and pardon him while his shoe steps on you shoulder and head to get higher up.

In his article he mentioned that indie authors should be referred to by another name and not be aloud to use author as a describing word for them. What else would you call people who create stories from their imagination or real life experiences? A rose by any other name….and all. Wait would Mr. Shakespeare be considered an author? He was never wooed by one of the big five publishing companies out there.

What makes you an author?

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/author 

: a person who has written something; especially : a person who has written a book or who writes many books

: a person who starts or creates something (such as a plan or idea)

Write something, There you are the author of what you just wrote. It doesn’t matter if anyone else reads it. It doesn’t matter if others read it and hate it. It doesn’t matter if other fucking love the hell out of it. It is yours. Some famous authors advice is to write something and then tear it up letting no one read it. Write for yourself and market for others.

Same with any form of art once you create something you are its creator. How would this blogger determine if a another is an artist? Would they only be recognized if their work was hanging in a gallery? What if their art was purchased? My grandpa paid me a dollar when I was six for one of my drawing, does that make me official?

Or a musician. Most musicians start out singing covers of other peoples work. Would you only be recognized as an musician if you sang an original piece you wrote? Because if that is the case most of the people on the radio are frauds.

How much of snob do you have to be to say your art is better than another persons? Who has time to come up with another title for something that already has a  title?

In a round about way I have already ranted on this subject. The reason there is so many different art forms out there is because people have different tastes in things. People have had different life experiences, and therefore the way they connect with other pieces of work is incomparable.

https://itsjoysworld.net/2014/09/28/cant-we-all-just-get-along/

It is amazing to have a plethora of arts to choose from. Allowing you to create a bond with a piece of art is something special. It makes us vulnerable and human. Ranting at someone that put down your work for no other reason but to boost theirs is human also. If it isn’t your  thing you don’t have to be a part of it. Another human trait we have (well not everyone) we have the brain capacity to make choices, and if we don’t like something we can walk away.

So walk away from this and go create. There are going to be mean people out there that will hurt you, and put you down. Rise above them. Persevere and tell them to kiss you ass….

Sequel to Jade. Jade and Jane continue their adventures and chase the Devil around the world. They must defeat him when they catch him beforel the hunters become the hunted. Join Jade and Jane on anther non-stop action packed thrill ride, full of surprises, romance, and humor. Meet new characters and new friends along the way as the relationship between Jade and Jane continues to grow. Vamps, shifters, and witches galore with a few other supernatural creatures in the mix make for another exciting adventure.
Quotes:
• “Our pack’s purpose is to fight, to do battle with evil.”
• “He has a small army of vamps and nobody has dared to take him on.”
• “You put a big dent in the roof, Jane.”
Excerpt:
“I hear something,” Jade said, walking to the eastern side, raising her binoculars. She wasn’t looking towards the forest I saw, but rather slightly upward towards the sky. I couldn’t hear anything. A shifter’s hearing is better than a vamp’s.

“Choppers,” Hannah said from behind us, facing west, binoculars up as well. “Many of them,” she continued. “This is something we didn’t count on. We have a few stingers out there but there must be at least ten choppers coming from this direction.”

She picked up her phone and dialed to alert the forces on the ground. While she waited for an answer she continued, “Heading straight for our position. How many coming from your direction, Jade?”

“A dozen or more,” Jade said, “also heading straight towards our position. Tell your forces to concentrate on those coming in from the west. I will take the ones coming from the east.”

I drew Hannah back to the edge of the point. Jade in dragon form would take up much of our little space here. Jade shed clothes and stood in the middle getting ready to shift.

“We have a little air force of our own,” I told Hannah as Jade changed.

I do not have a review of this book yet. I promised my reviews to another set of authors. I can tell you this book will not disappoint, and I cannot wait to read it. My review will come soon…

Sunday March 1- Friday March 6, All the Wrong Places Kindle edition will be on sale for $.99!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00NEVKDWM/ref=rdr_kindle_ext_tmb

If you haven’t had a chance to read this amazing book well here is your chance. All The Wrong Places is on sale until March 6th for .99 that is only 99 pennies.

Synopsis…..

Driving aimlessly through the stormy suburbs of San Francisco, Casey Wheeler is fleeing from her abusive and unfaithful husband with her five year old daughter Maddy asleep in the backseat. With nowhere to go and no one to turn to, Casey loses control of her emotions and her car, crashing into a hillside below a mortuary. Desperately seeking shelter, and more so independence, she finds herself taken in by the mortuary director who apprehensively offers her a job and a place to live. As she stumbles through the ins and outs of her new and morbid surroundings, Casey is forced into a hostile custody battle with her relentless and increasingly violent husband. In the midst of all the chaos, she finds a new family and even love in the eccentric and protective people of Golden Oaks Funeral Home. But just when she has found all she could hope for, she will have to fight to the death to protect it. This semi-autobiographical story of a single-mother and her journey to self-discovery, independence and a true understanding of love will keep readers captivated and yearning for more