Advertising Ash on the Stairs

I am now two weeks into selling my debut novel, Ash on the Stairs. The Graphic Maggy Ad Agency is handling my efforts. I had not used that aspect of me in quite a while. I dragged the wild haired hippie out of the past and sat her at the keyboard. I’m learning to place ads on the run as well as build neatly prepared collages to paste in with copy.

I perused Pinterest for images to add to the book cover. I found a platinum, ruby. and diamond ring, red Manolo heels, red ballet shoes, and the perfect Jesse tote. These and a few other images that fit my mind’s eye are what I used here.

 ATOS 3 side pics  PicMonkey Collage AOTS AOTS collage red shoe ringValentine collage Ash on the Stairs AOTS collage ATOS ell 2

As you can see, I’m having fun. I hope the effort I’m making will pay off. I won’t complain about five-star reviews.

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Ash-Stairs-MR-Jones-ebook/dp/B00SVE1MIQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422997621&sr=8-1&keywords=ash+on+the+stairs&pebp=1422997635574&peasin=B00SVE1MIQ

Ash on the Stairs launched

What a weekend! My debut novel, Ash on the Stairs, launched into the sea of readily available reading material. I held my breath, waiting to see if my baby would hit the water and make a ripple, or bounce off a frozen surface. I felt like little grasshopper, sitting with the blind monk, tossing pebbles in the water.

The ripples spread. At first the sales were to my family and friends. That was my pebble. One person finished reading it and posted a 5 star review. The ripples spread. My posts flowed out as one fan shared to another fan of the genre. Every thing I did in the planning stages paid off. That ripple ran beyond my first ring of core human contacts and passed beyond the friend of a friend of a friend.

I’m an adrenaline junkie with a background in nursing and advertising. When I realized word had spread beyond the reaches of my little world, I was as high as a human can get without drugs. I juggled between twitter, facebook (two accounts and six groups), google+, tumblr, Amazon, and the people who believed in a first time writer, Eternal Press.

Working my way through two days of seeing to and dealing with the transition from, “I sold my manuscript,” to “My book is published,” brought back to play a Don Draper side of me. It just flowed. I may be babbling, but this weekend was worth all the work. I started a little ripple and I’m ready to ride it to wherever it takes me.

ASH on the Stairs cover art for release small image

 

Eternal Press http://eternalpress.biz

Amazon  http://www.amazon.com/Ash-Stairs-MR-Jones-ebook/dp/B00SVE1MIQ/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422997621&sr=8-1&keywords=ash+on+the+stairs&pebp=1422997635574&peasin=B00SVE1MIQ

http://www.facebook.comMargueriteR.Jones

Super Sunday, No Bowl Involved

I know this Sunday is Superbowl Sunday. I’m not much of a sports fan but I usually watch the game. This year I doubt I’ll see it. This blasphemous act will be done because there is something happening that day that is more important to me than football. My novel, Ash on the Stairs, is being released by my publisher that day.

Ash on the Stairs, an erotic romance, is the first of my works to make it to print, so this will be a big deal for me. I get to go to the big leagues and play with the pros. It is something I had on my list of things to do for a long time. It was work. It was fun. Now the game begins. To market the story and gain a widespread audience is the game that’s afoot.

I feel like the quarterback who depends on the rest of the team to to work with him to get the ball down field and across the goal line. I hope all my friends, fans, and readers will pass the word along so together we can take this story to the rest of the world. I want to make a touchdown. I want to run the winning play. I want the world to fall in love with Jesse Ash and Travis Daniel.

On Sunday, Ash on the Stairs will be available from Eternal Press at http://eternalpress.biz later it will be available from Amazon and Barnes&Nobles, as well as other fine booksellers.

ASH on the STAIRS cover art for release

He shook his head. His golden eyes had that predatory gleam in them. “Little girl, you have so much to learn. Edward is my driver. He’ll wait for me. I can take all the time I want.” Travis Daniel, CEO, the man who gets his way, walked across the little space between us. “You took the subway this morning after I gave you money for a taxi. I’m not happy about that. I don’t want you to take the subway because I don’t want perverts groping you.” He stood so close I felt the heat of his body. “I want to be the only one groping you.”  Ash on the Stairs by MRJones

Countdown at 14 days to Ash on the Stairs

Only fourteen days until Ash on the Stairs is released. I have the pre-release jitters. Ticking down to the launch of my first novel is to me like the countdown for a space launch is to NASA. So much to go right. The culmination of a lot of work. Please let the rockets fire and a successful lift off occur.

I want the reading world to fall in love with my characters and their story. I hope what happens on the stairs will leave the reader wanting more. ISBN 9781629292151

ASH on the Stairs cover art for release small image

Press release for Ash on the Stairs

Press release for Ash on the Stairs

Ash on the Stairs, the debut novel by MRJones, takes erotic romance to a new level of enjoyment through hot sexual situations, captivating characters, and twisting plot lines. Set in the high rise world of New York City, corporate intrigue and mystery give depth to a tale with a heat level that all but scorches. It begs the question: “Can a stairwell provide refuge from a predator and be the place where fascination leads to something more?”

Jesse Ash takes the stairs at work to avoid a predator and meets a man with golden eyes. He confronts her and talks her into joining him for the evening. A game with no names leads to a night of sex. Will this continue when his identity is revealed? Travis Daniel owns the stairwell and the company. He wants Jesse’s heart. When the predator resurfaces, will they rise above the circumstances to find justice and love?

“Your book took me slowly, and I liked it.” Erin Lale, author of American Celebration.

“I have never read an erotic story written with as much intelligence and talent. It is a pleasure to read your book.” Katie McKnight, author of Secrets Revealed

“If you don’t buy this book, you won’t know what you’re missing. You’ll be out of the loop when everyone is talking about the amazing debut erotic romance from this up and coming author.” Roberta Codemo, Codemo Writing Services

MRJones is Marguerite R. Jones, a native and current resident of Beaumont, Texas. A lifelong storyteller, she took that talent and turned it into a career as a novelist.  A follow up to Ash on the Stairs, Ash on the Beach, is in the works. Slant Well, a contemporary fantasy set in Southeast Texas, will be published by Eternal Press later in 2015.

Ash on the Stairs will be released by Eternal Press on February 1, 2015. The erotic romance will be available in paperback and e-book from Eternal Press, Amazon, Barnes & Nobles, and many other fine booksellers.

Contact Eternal Press at http://eternalpress.biz  Contact MRJones at maddmagz@gmail.com

ISBN: 9781629292151

Ash on the Stairs on Eternal Press site

AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ASH ON THE STAIRS on EP website.
The sun peeked out and I opened an email from Eternal Press. It is from the marketing manager. Ash on the Stairs is now on the Eternal Press website in the to be released section. If you want to see it, go to Eternal Press. com. Things are running faster and faster now. February 1 is so near. The ISBN 9781629292151

This is such an overwhelming thing in my life. Nothing will ever be the same after the book is released. I will be a business. I must snap into business mode and be an efficient marketer of my work. Currently working on setting up the first book signing. I need a fairy godmanager.ASH on the STAIRS cover art for release

Ash on the Stairs Nearing Release Date

 

February 1, 2015 is a date I will hold dear. The first of my novels to make it to a publisher will be released on that date. As the days tick away, my excitement grows. So much more to do to promote it. Setting up book signings and contacting the news media are on my short list. I need an assistant who knows what they’re doing. Since I can’t afford that, I muddle through, assisting myself. In an effort to entice you, dear readers, I now present the opening paragraph of Ash on the Stairs for your perusal.

Chapter One

My name is Jesse Neil Ash. Don’t let the name fool you, I’m a tall skinny woman from Texas. From the moment I was born, my life was spent in hiding. Not quite twenty-one, I moved to New York City to continue hiding. Soon after going to work in the mirrored high rise housing TDI’s Manhattan office, I met the man who changed that.

ASH on the STAIRS cover art for release

Katie McKnight, author of Secrets Revealed had this to say about Ash on the Stairs, “I have never read an erotic story written with as much intelligence and talent. It is a pleasure to read.”

 

New Year

My original thought for this post was to write a tiny New Year story with Jesse Ash and Travis Daniel. I realized the story that really matters is the one I will be screaming on February 1, 2015. The world gets to meet those two characters that day. This will change my life forever. I will join the ranks of published authors. Ash on the Stairs will be published by Eternal Press. I am not an Indie author. I have a company working for me. They will pay me. I hope to make at least enough to buy a cup of coffee. I hope the world falls in love with my writing.

Ash on the Stairs is an erotic romance. I never set out to write romance of any sort. But, no one would buy the first, non-romance, story I wrote. It needed a lot of work. I needed to learn to write in a manner that sells. I got mad that stories written more poorly than mine sold because they were erotic. I decided to turn my talents to the endeavor of learning to write well while writing something that would have a better chance of being sold. Thus was born Jesse Neil Ash, a tall skinny woman from Texas who doesn’t know what love is.

I wrote the first few chapters and sent them to a niece to see if I had something worth spending my time on. Her answer, a resounding, “Yes, keep writing.” I did. Armed with everything from my time here on Earth, I spun my story. I wanted the characters to be real, their motivations personal, their actions believable. The cast of characters presented themselves and came to life. The rough draft contained the bones of believability. The reader could suspend disbelief while in that world. Critique partners helped me polish it. It sold.

Jesse Neil Ash took the stairs at work. Her life changed forever. I wrote her story.

Yes, there is a lot of sex in the book. Melt your panties sex. That is not all there is. On February 1, you can read it. Get it at Barnes&Nobles and Amazon as well as Eternal Press.

ASH on the Stairs cover art for release small image

Santa and the Subordinate Clauses

Santa and the Subordinate Clauses: an After Christmas Story

By MRJones

 

What if you were Santa Clause, and you had hundreds of helpers who looked just like you, and wherever they went everybody thought they were you, only some of them smoked crack, and one of them ended up in jail as a half werewolf/half fae shifter warlock’s prison sissy bitch?

Some smart-ass posed that question to me as a joke.  It’s not funny because it really happened.  My friends call me Nick.  I don’t live at the North Pole.  I won’t tell you where I do because I’d have to move again.

It used to be so much simpler before the days of the mass marketing of the winter holiday. I had a few helpers.  We put together gifts for the small children in the northern part of the European continent and delivered them in the darkest days of the year.  Now it seems almost every child on this planet wants a ton of toys, and they want them all delivered on one night.

I’m magic, but I had to have help, enter what a school teacher friend of mine calls the Subordinate Clauses.  It started with a few extra delivery men.  Then, the requests for appearances at parties and schools made me put on more guys.  I ended up with a big crew of look-alikes.  Most of them are regular guys, you know, they want to do good, make the kids happy, and get paid.  Then, there’s Eddie, Ivan, and Olaf.

This is the tale of the Insubordinate Clauses.  It happened a few years ago.  After the big delivery, those three went to Florida to catch some sun.  The trouble started in Miami.  I got a call that woke me from a deep sleep.

“Nick, it’s Ivan.  Man, you gotta help us.”

“What’s going on?”  I was still fuzzy from sleep.

“Olaf was popped by the Miami police.  We need bail.”

I was wide awake.  I sat up.  “What?”

“We need bail.  We’re in Miami and we need bail for Olaf.  Bondsmen won’t touch us because we’re from out of town.  You’re our only hope.”

“Where in Miami are you?”

“It’s a little motel called the Coral Essex.  Are you gonna help us?”

“I’ll meet you at the motel in a couple of hours.  We’ll discuss this there.”  I ended the call.  Yeah, I’m the jolly old elf.  I’m not too jolly about my look-alikes getting arrested, not good for business, you know.  I had a few calls to make.

Two hours later, looking more like a Jimmy Buffet Parrothead than the man in the red suit, I pulled into the parking lot at the Coral Essex and shut off the engine of my old red Caddy convertible.  Crumbling stucco, peeling coral pink paint, and a pool full of foul water set the scene.  Reminded me of a bad movie.  I knocked on the door of the second floor room.  Grit and sand sifted to the floor.

Through the door, Ivan asked, “Who is it?”

“Ho Ho Ho.” I didn’t sound very jolly, I wasn’t.  Ivan opened the door.  Cigarette smoke rolled out.  No way was I walking into that cloud of poison.  I called up the wind and had it blow through.  When the room was clear, I went in and shut the door.  I turned to face the two errant elves, and said, “Cigarettes are bad enough. Smoking crack is definitely not nice.  Please tell me what possessed you to do such a thing.”

Seated on the lumpy couch in the far corner, Eddie hung his head and said nothing.  Ivan shuffled his feet and cleared his throat.  “Uh, we were, uh, just hanging out, you know, uh, blowin’ off some steam, and, uh, this guy came up to us, and uh, well, he told us he could get us something that would, uh, help the situation, so, uh, we took him up on his offer.”

I shook my head.  “You took him up on his offer?  What’s his name?”

“Fenris.”
“Fenris the wolf?”  I knew that guy.  He wasn’t into stuff like this.

“No, not him.  This guy is a relative of his though.  He’s half fae skin-shifter and half wolf.”

“Werewolf,” Eddie added from his corner of the room.  “And, he’s a warlock.  That’s how he got us the stuff.”

My head was beginning to ache.  “Where is the mighty werewolf fae shifter warlock now?”

Ivan’s face twitched.  “In jail with Olaf.”

“His magic can’t get them out?”

“Boss, you know how it is with iron, he’s trapped.”

I chuckled for the first time since I had been so rudely awakened.  “Cold iron trumps magic.  That guy needs an upgrade.  I take it Olaf’s abilities to get in and out are not working.”

“The crack kind of did us in in that department.”  Eddie turned his face to the window.  That’s when I saw big patches of his beard had been singed away and he was missing about half his mustache.  ‘So, are you gonna get Olaf out, Boss?”

“I’ll know right where he is until I take care of you two.”  They looked hopeful until they saw my face.  “That’s right, you’re on the naughty list now.  Both of you are getting a shave and haircut.  I won’t have you walking around committing criminal acts looking like me.  Go get in the car.”  They shuffled out the door, blinking in the brilliant Florida sunshine.  I shook my head again. Hungover halfwit helpers, just what I didn’t need.  We loaded up and I drove to a barber college in Little Havana.  I stopped the car and said, “Get out.”  They did.

We went in.  I knew the owner.  He looked up and recognized me.  “Hey, Nick, what’s with the moth eaten look-alikes?”

“Long story, Raul, I don’t want to tell it right now.  Shave ‘em clean and buzz their hair.”

“Made it onto the naughty list!”  Raul laughed.  He pointed at two empty chairs.  “Take a seat.”  The Insubordinate Clauses did as they were told.  Raul waved a hand, “Carlos, Benito, shear ‘em like sheep.”  The barbers took clippers and made quick work of the hairy messes on Ivan’s and Eddie’s heads.

A close shave later, I paid and herded the clowns back into the car.  We were cruising toward the jail when Eddie asked. “Can we stop and get something to eat?”

I burst into a full belly shaking laugh.  “No.”  I kept going.  They sulked.  More points in their naughty column.  By the time we walked in to spring Olaf, they had caught on that I was not Jolly Old Saint Nick today and trailed along behind me like a pair of whipped pups.

It took a while to get the bail paid and have Olaf delivered.  He came out looking down at the floor, wouldn’t meet my eyes.  Even so, I could see bruises on his face.  “Go get it the car.”  He and the others did.  As I drove away, I asked him, “Did you have fun with your new friend?”

“Friend?!  That fiend kept trying to make me do things!”

I smirked.  “Things?”

“Yeah, things.”  Olaf shuddered.  “The kind of things a guy shouldn’t do to other guys.  It’s a good thing his magic was messed up.”

“Yeah, good thing.”  I got us out of Miami and back to the factory at delivery speed.  As they got out of the car, I said, “You’re all on janitorial duty for the next five hundred years.”

“Thanks, Boss.”

“Olaf, shave and a haircut now.”

“Yes, sir.”  He headed for the company barber.

Sleigh Down on the Bayou

By MRJones

“Ivan, Olaf, Eddie, come to the sleigh barn.”  The trio, who had been dubbed, ‘the Insubordinate Clauses,’ due to some trouble down in Miami a few years back, looked up from the floor they were polishing when they heard that on the intercom.  They found Jolly Old Saint Nick tinkering with the propulsion system on his newest sleigh.  He finished up and wiped his hands on a shop towel.  “I know I put you on janitorial duty for five hundred years, but since you’ve been being good elves since I bailed you out, and you’re one of my best teams, I’m gonna let you take this new sleigh out for a test run.  You know the drill, over both poles and back here as fast as she can run.  Keep the cloaking system on.  I don’t want to hear reports of an early delivery.  Think you can handle that?”

“You got it, Boss,” the three of them said in unison.  Soon they were suited up and in the sleigh with Ivan as pilot, Eddie copiloting, and Olaf navigating.  Nick gave them the go and they took off.

“It’s three days before Christmas, I’m freezing and there’s no ducks.  I could’a been in my nice warm bed,” Jason Thibodeaux grumbled as he crouched in the duck blind with his cousins.  “But, no, Bobby wanted duck gumbo for Christmas. Chicken and sausage gumbo’d be good enough for me.  And we have all those wild hog hams too.”  He opened the big thermos and poured a cup of steaming coffee.

“Hey, pour some for me.”  Etienne Comeaux was no happier than Jason.  They huddled against the chill pre-dawn wind.

“I don’t know what you two are griping about,” Bobby said, “Neither of you brought a dog to fetch the ducks.”

Etienne slurped coffee and laughed.  “Allyn brought Bob.”

“I can’t believe he brought Bob.  Nobody brings a cat hunting.”

“I do.”  Allyn Jones and a big bobcat stepped into the blind.  He and the cat crouched down with the others.  On the edge of hearing, like music on the wind, the sound of a flock of ducks quacking as they flew made the cat’s ears prick up.

Jason nudged his cousin none to gently.  “Boudreaux, you gonna use that duck call you got from the Dynasty guys or are you gonna let these fly past?”

Bobby blew on the call, doing his best imitation of a duck.  It worked, the flock began to circle the small lake linked to the bayou.  All the men aimed their shotguns and fired.  Ducks fell from the sky.  A blur of tawny fur darted out and pounced on the nearest duck.

Bob was on his way back to the blind when a large object fell into the lake.  He dropped the duck and turned to face the unknown, back arched, fangs bared, and hissing.  Allyn’s eyes narrowed as he peered across the marshy terrain.  Etienne picked up his field glasses and looked at the lump in the center of the shallow lake.

“What do you see?”  Bobby was jostling Etienne’s elbow.

“It looks like a sleigh and three Santas.”

“Dude, how much did you drink last night?”  Jason was trying to get the binoculars away from his much larger cousin.

Allyn started laughing.  “That’s what’s out there, boys.  We shot Santa’s sleigh.”

“Why are there three of him?  And, for that matter, where are the eight tiny reindeer?”  Etienne lowered the glasses and handed them to Jason.

Allyn pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number.  “Nick, are you missing one of your sleighs?”  He held the phone away from his ear.  “Well, the boys and I found it.  Actually we shot it down.  It’s in a little lake in LaBelle.  Yeah all three of ‘em seem to be moving around okay.  Yeah, home in on this phone signal.  See you in a few.”  He put his phone back in his jacket pocket and looked at the cat.  “What’re you waitin’ for?  Go get those ducks.”  Bob trotted off to do his job.

“Who were you talking to?”  Etienne was watching the men waving their arms, trying to signal for help.

“Santa Clause.”

“You lyin’ piece of work.  Who was it?”

“Jolly old Saint Nick.  He’s not gonna be jolly when he sees this mess.  C’mon, let’s go check on those guys.”  Allyn strode away toward the lake.

Etienne followed, saying, “You don’t have your waders on.”  He stopped at the water’s edge.

“Don’t need ‘em.”  Allyn walked across the water.  He stopped and looked back.  “You just have to believe you can, Etienne.”  He turned and continued to the downed sleigh.

The men on the wreck stopped flapping their arms when they saw the tall man with flowing red hair walking their way.  Eddie asked, “Ivan, who walks on water?”

“I haven’t seen that trick in over two thousand years, and that guy sure isn’t Yeshua ha Nostri.”

Olaf squinted at the approaching figure.  “There was a Welch guy who could command the water to his will.”

Ivan shook his head.  “Those guys are long gone.  This one probably knows where the shallow spots are.”

“Whatever, I hope he can help us get this thing out of here before Nick knows we wrecked it,” Eddie said with a shiver.

Olaf rolled his eyes and said, “You think he can just tow us out of this muck with his pickup truck?”

“He looks nice enough.  Maybe he’ll do it.”  Eddie squeezed water out of his hat.

“Fenris the crack dealer looked like a good guy when we met him,” Ivan said.  Olaf shuddered at the mention of that name.  “Remember how well that turned out?  Besides this guy and his buddies shot us down.”

Olaf snapped, “I told you to stay away from those ducks!  But noooooo, you had to chase ‘em.”

“Cut it out,” Eddie said, “he’s almost here.”  Eddie raised his hand in greeting and called out, “Can you give us a little help here?  We need to get this thing out of the water.”

“Yeah, I can get you out of the cold water.  The hot water, that’s your problem,” Allyn said as he stepped alongside the downed sleigh.

“Hot water?  What do you mean?”  Ivan asked, eying the tall redheaded stranger.

“Nick’s on his way.”

“I told you to stay away from those ducks!  Now we’ll be mopping floors forever.”  Olaf glared at Ivan, then, turned to Allyn.  “How do you know he’s on his way?”

“He knows when you’ve been naughty.”  Allyn snickered.  “I called him.”

Olaf looked closely at the man standing on the surface of the water.  “I know you, Celt.

One copper eyebrow raised.  “Do you, Elf?”

“You’re that magician, Manawyddan fab Llyr.  I thought you were dead.  What are you doing here?”

“Duck hunting.  Now that you and your buddies have dropped in on us and ruined the chance of me shooting another one, I’ll be getting this neutron powered bucket out of the way.  All of you, walk to shore, I’m not wasting my energy on you.”

Ivan stepped out and sank in cold water and mud up to his waist.  He shrieked.  Eddie said, “I told you he was walking on water.”

Allyn reached out, pulled Ivan up, and stood him on the surface.  The elf teetered and began to sink.  “Believe,” Allyn said.  “Isn’t that the business you’re in, belief?”  Ivan pulled his feet out of the water, steadied himself, and started for the shore.  The others followed.  Allyn shook his head.  “Putzes.”

He got in the sleigh and found the controls.  In the driver’s seat, he lay his hand on the dashboard and felt the hum of energy begin to pulse through the sleigh.  It lifted out of the sucking mud with a pop and a splash of cold swamp water.  Keeping it a few feet above the lake, he flew it to shore and landed.  As he got out, he saw a bright red crew cab pickup truck rolling slowly down the trace of a trail toward the duck blind.  He waved.  The truck drew alongside and stopped.  The driver’s window lowered.

“You shot my sleigh down?  With a shotgun, you shot it down?”

“I had help.  There were four of us shooting.”

“You shot my sleigh down with shotguns.  How did you manage that?”

“Steel shot.  Cold iron trumps magic.  They were chasing the ducks and flew into a cloud of steel shot.”

“Gaaahh!”  The door opened and Nick got out.  He glared at the Insubordinate Clauses as they stood wet and shivering.

Ivan hung his head and said, “Don’t blame them, Boss.  This is all my fault.  They tried to stop me.”

“Thank you for being honest, Ivan.  You’re back on floor duty.  Eddie, Olaf, take it back to the barn.”

Eddie’s teeth were chattering when he said, “Uh, Boss, we’re freezing, can we get dried off first?”

Allyn raised his left hand, pointed at the three wet elves and spoke a few words of ancient Welch.  They were clean and dry.  Eddie and Olaf thanked him, climbed in the sleigh and took off.

“Get in the truck, Ivan.  We’re gonna have a little talk on the way back to the shop.”  Ivan climbed into the rider’s seat and shut the door.

Allyn reached out and put his hand on Nick’s shoulder.  “You coming to dinner Christmas Day?”

“Is Evelyn cooking?”

“Yep.  Wild hog ham, duck gumbo, and all the fixin’s”

“I’ll bring some gingerbread.”  Nick got in the truck, started it and took off over the bayou, disappearing from sight.