October 25, 2012
What makes a book sell? What is that “thing” that has readers swarming to the stores to buy it? What attracts them to begin with? Is it the cover? The summary of the plot? Great reviews? The price? The author?
Again this week, I’d like you, the readers, to give your opinion on this book. I’d like to know–as does the author–what works for you and what doesn’t. We’d like an honest gut reaction to everything we present to you here to make sure the author is headed in the right direction or if there are things that can be tweaked to make this book the bestseller it has the potential to be.
If you choose to supplement your poll responses with personal, honest constructive comments, you will be entered to win 1 (one) book from my ever growing stash of books (four pages of books grouped my genres). Thank you in advance for your time and your honestly. I know it’s valuable and I do appreciate it.
Author: Misha Crews
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Digital Price: $3.99
Publisher: CWC Publishing
A tragic death… A disturbing photo that can’t be explained… A woman drowning in an ocean of secrets…
In 1950s Virginia, Jenna Appleton seems to have found the life she’s always wanted. But underneath the shallow gleam of her bright suburban world, murky truths are waiting to surface.
On the morning that her husband dies in a tragic accident, Jenna finds a shocking photo of him in the arms of a beautiful woman. And before she can ask him about it, he’s gone forever.
Five years later, Jenna has buried her questions and remade her life. But the reappearance of an old love stirs up guilty questions, and she realizes that some secrets aren’t meant to be kept. The deeper she dives for answers, the darker the water gets. How will she find happiness for herself and her family, when every move she makes toward the strange and awful truth seems to lead her right back to her own home shores?
SAMPLER – First two paragraphs of STILL WATERS
Driving home from his grandmother’s funeral, Chris felt a change coming. He tried to tell himself it was just the change of recent death: that lightning-strike chasm which forever marked the end of the before and the beginning of after. But this was different. Something intangible was floating in the air. Apprehension had settled beside his grief and exhaustion: three black crows sitting side by side on his chest.
He glanced in the rearview mirror, at his mother and stepfather in the back. They were silent, sitting at opposite ends of the comfortable Cadillac seat, each one looking out a different window. To a stranger’s eyes, they might seem to be experiencing the cold aftermath of a quarrel. But their hands, which touched lightly on the leather between them, told the true story of the closeness they shared.