One of the reasons I’m wide (meaning, not in Kindle Unlimited as Kindle Unlimited comes with an exclusivity clause) is that I want to have my books available in libraries (and I’d like to reach readers in other countries who may not have KU and readers who use other e-retailers but I digress).
And I’m crossing my fingers readers in KU have access to a library so that they can also read my books without additional cost to them.
Not all of my audiobooks are available in libraries. Some are exclusive to Audible for the moment but #TheLeftoverBride, A Summer Like No Other and Always Second Best (all narrated by the wonderful Megan Carter) are available in your libraries for you to listen to :-).
I cannot have the full details of where my books are in libraries but I can see the ones who got purchased via Overdrive…
Before I share the list… let me tell you:
How to request my e-books or audiobooks in your library (if your library uses Overdrive/Libby)
Make sure you have your library card near you.
Overdrive is used in several countries so if you’re in Canada, the UK, Australia or another country, don’t hesitate to check it out.
Type in “Elodie Nowodazkij” or you can type the title of one my books/audiobooks. Overdrive might show it as “recommend” or “not yet owned” o
Recommend the one you’d like to have added to your library.
The library can then either purchase it as a single check-out or purchase it to have one digital copy they can lend one at a time.
How to request my e-books or audiobooks if your library is using Hoopla
Disclaimer: not all my ebooks/audiobooks are available on Hoopla because for some reason Hoopla has blocked certain titles but not others (even some of my YA books are not available there. If you’d like one that is not available, you might need to contact them. I had no luck in that matter but maybe, as a patron, you will).
Again, make sure you have your library card near you.
Sign in using your library card. Your library may or may not use Hoopla. Mine doesnt but others in Maryland do, for example.
How to request my e-books or audiobooks if your library is using Bibliotheca or if you’d like to request print versions?
You may need to try to request the book through Marina or InterLibraryLoan before filling out a form asking your favorite librarian to purchase a copy.
Most of my print books are available via the Ingram catalogue.
What happens when you request one of my ebooks or audiobooks through a library?
Yes, I do get royalties. There are different systems (price per checkout which is about 45 cents for most of my books/audiobooks or actual library purchase of a single e-copy which is an average of $7 of royalties for me and the library can check it out as many time as they’d like, one at a time).
When you request one of my books through the library, a grumpy book boyfriend learns how to smile.
In 2021 and 2022, some of my ebooks were purchased by those libraries via Overdrive…(I know some of my audiobooks were purchased via Bibliotheca and Hoopla but I don’t know where…)
Libraries Tasmania (AU)
Hillsborough County Public Library Cooperative (FL)
Abu Dhabi Department of Culture And Tourism (AE)
Old Colony Library Network (MA)
String Theory Schools (PA)
Los Angeles Public Library (CA)
Independent Schools Association of British Columbia (CA)
SAILS Library Network (MA)
Oxford and Cambridge Club (UK)
Sunflower eLibrary (KS)
Strait Regional Centre for Education (CA)
Brooklyn Public Library (NY)
Chelmsford Public Schools (MA)
Education Queensland (AU)
Have you already requested/recommended one of my books to the library? Or another book? Would love to know!
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And the first reviews are definitely making this author smile.
A Hot Romance with Sweet Treats!
Full of sass and sizzle, she brings romance in a small town with reality TV twists and turns. I absolutely love the characters and all of the book boyfriend references. This is a holiday romance sprinkled with A LOT of sizzle.
Note to self: do not shove Marion Sinclair into the sparkling, heated pool—even if she crowned your bakery “Most Likely to Disappear in the Next Three Years” in her latest post.
“Aisling! Whoo-hoo!” Marion—the influencer of the wedding cakes world, newest Wedding Bells magazine contributor, and forever nemesis—waves my way. She takes a selfie with her Santa hat and the Vegas Christmas in July banner, screeching at an employee to smile in the background. Because, of course, she needs to manufacture every moment for her flawless-yet-flawed-but-happy brand.
At least that gives me a minute to find the perfect escape route.
I slide my glasses up my nose, and my eyes dart to the side. What if I dived under the cocktail table? Too dramatic. Plus, if the shrimp tumbled on me, I’d smell like shellfish for an eternity. Instead, I force my PRBF (Permanent Resting Bitch Face), as my sisters call it, to relax into a fake smile.
“Hi, Marion. I still need to check in.” I point to my small, battered suitcase and rush away before she can pepper me with pretend enthusiasm and backhanded compliments.
The full of temptation Las Vegas hotel Lily-of-the-Valley fragrance with a sultry note of musk blasts in my face as I swerve into a couple making out right next to the oversized Christmas tree.
“I’m so sorry.”
The woman’s wedding veil cascades to the floor, and the man’s hands travel down her back. Even though PDA isn’t my thing, and there are not enough hours in my days for a relationship, a familiar pang of longing resonates in my chest.
“Happily ever after in Sin City,” a deep and smooth voice chuckles next to me. His bergamot and old spicy wood cologne draw me to him.
I turn around and lift my chin up.
Smoldering dark eyes grab ahold of mine. I readjust my glasses.
If the eyes are the windows to the soul, this man offers exactly what I have been craving: a toe-curling passion that leaves you completely spent and satisfied.
And I’m in dire need of sleep.
So what if it feels like forever and a day since a man has looked at me this way? And an eternity since I’ve wanted to see what the night could bring.
Step away from the sinfully sexy stranger,Aisling.
After all, I’ve listened to enough true crime podcasts to know not to talk to strangers. Right?
My spine straightens. “Maybe ‘or a happily for now.’” At least my tone isn’t all breathy and needy. But there’s a tiny crack in my I’m-a-pro-at-hiding-what-I-feel façade as warmth sneaks up my neck, probably revealing a blush. I push my glasses up again and purse my lips in my usual Aisling way.
He raises an eyebrow. “Those can be good, too.”
Why does his rough voice make me want to tell him I’ve been naughty this year? My heart flutters. Wait… what? My heart doesn’t do flutters. Get away now! The alarm in my mind blares with urgency, but my feet must be anchored to the ground with the best sugar glue in town because I can’t move.
Instead, I take in every enticing detail: his angular chin covered with a three-day beard, his shit-eating grin like he knows and loves the thoughts bouncing around in my head, his slightly crooked nose that gives him a rugged look.
His polo shirt emphasizes his broad shoulders, and… is that a What Would Elle Woods Do? pin on his collar?
“You’re a Legally Blonde fan?”
I narrow my eyes, and his chuckle is a sound that should be recorded for ringtones.
“Yep.” His fingers brush over the pin. “Got it as a gift and always wear it,” he tells me. Whoever he’s here with maybe gave it to him. Reality-check meet Aisling. But as I’m about to step away, he adds, “My grandmother really knows me.”
My fingers play with the bracelet my own late grandmother gave me.
“It is a good movie,” I say after a few seconds.
He chuckles again as my gaze travels from the pin to his strong arms. How many tattoos does this man have? Am I salivating over his forearms and… his hands? They’re powerful hands. Capable. Full of promises. And carrying one of the Triple O Annual Naughty or Nice Conference promotional bags I’ve seen in the lobby.
I’ve got three of their toys, and they keep their promises.
“I’d love one of those,” I blurt out before my mind can even process what I’m saying.
His lips lift into a half-grin full of confidence. “An orgasm?”
Why does this sound like a promise?
Heat creeps up my neck, and I point to his hand. “The bag, I mean.”
He leans forward. “It’s yours.”
His breath is minty fresh, and I’m tempted to check mine. As he gently wraps the bag around my wrist, his fingers graze my skin, and Hi, desire, my old friend. Long time no see.
I clear my throat. “Thanks.”
The butterflies flapping their untrained wings in my stomach are demanding I throw caution and responsibilities to the wind and ask him for dinner, a kiss, a night. But I squash them.
Being “spontaneous” isn’t on my to-do list. Neither is he. As I whirl back around, a swarm of people cuts me off. They flock toward one giant sign that reads, Meet Grant Torre, Your Santa Claus for the Day.
“Grant! I’m coming!”
A woman steamrolls me, and the stranger’s muscular arms sneak around my waist to keep me steady. My body melts into his, and my suitcase slips out of my grasp, scattering to the ground. Another woman stomps on it.
“Watch out!” I reluctantly detach myself from the stranger.
As the crowd thins in their search for Grant Torre, I pick up my suitcase.
Dildos and butt plugs and cuffs tumble out.
My mouth gapes open. How? What? Why?
Without a word or even a chuckle, the man bends down to shove them back inside the suitcase.
“I-I got it,” I tell him with such a no-nonsense, this-happens-every-day voice that I’d high-five myself if my hands weren’t full with Triple O toys.
“You wanted my bag when you got all of those?”
“These aren’t mine.”
I drop the toys into the suitcase before rubbing the spot between my eyebrows, but that doesn’t prevent the splitting headache from thundering.
“I assumed not all of them were yours. Unless you’re a vendor. Or a model for…” His voice trails off as I struggle to take a deep breath, realizing my plans for tomorrow’s Spoon Up competition vanished with my way-too-generic suitcase.
“No, no, no,” I mutter.
A fist of dread sneaks up my throat, tightening around it. My suitcase was supposed to be safely tucked in the overhead bin, but due to space issues, the airline checked it in instead. At the baggage claim, there must have been three blue suitcases looking exactly as old as mine. I had tied one of Ava’s ribbons to the handle, but it was nowhere to be seen.
So, whoever grabbed my suitcase now has all my trusted baking utensils while I have their entire brand-new line of Triple O toys.
I’m not going to be able to whip up a three-layered wedding cake with a Christmas-inspiration gingerbread frosting with a butterfly clit vibrator.
One “spoon up” and your bakery is inundated with orders. We need those orders—especially as I’m trying to reinvent our bakery to become the holiday bakery of the Eastern shore.
“You okay?” the stranger who no longer feels like one asks as his hands settle on my shoulders.
The wave of panic recedes. Is he a magician headlining a magic show in Las Vegas? I could be his talking puppet. He could do whatever he wanted to me with those hands.
“I have to go.” Because if I don’t, I might either cry on his shoulder or ask him to go upstairs with me. Not happening.
Instead, I keep my chin up and stroll to check in as if everything is absolutely fine.
After all, I’m sure I’ll come up with the perfect cake—no matter what.
As Marion Sinclair always claims in her videos: It’s going to be the absolute best.
Fifth. I placed fifth in the competition.
Despite hiding my disappointment in the bar far away from the entrance, Marion settles next to me. Her Aisling is desperate radar to zero in on me when I least want to see her has been refined over the years. She touches my arm in one of those aww-poor-Aisling ways, and I should get extra points for not swatting it away.
“You’re a trooper for traveling to Vegas when so many people are canceling their orders.”
“The unpredictability of business.” Shoot. Did my voice go all high-pitch?
“Sure. But with what happened with your sister being jilted at the altar and with your croquembouche signature cake turning into a recipe for Disaster-Ever-After—”
“You called it that.”
“Oh, I did. Didn’t I?” She takes a sip of her bright pink cocktail. “That post got so many likes. I couldn’t keep up with the hundreds of comments.”
The glint in her eyes tells me she expects me to lose it any minute now. But my sisters didn’t nickname me “Miss Perfection” growing up for nothing. Aisling O’Connor doesn’t lose it—especially not in public.
“I don’t follow your account. I must have seen it because it’s one of those paid promoted posts you spend tons of money on. Didn’t you get in trouble for that before? Something about not being transparent about your reach?” Before she can reply, I continue. “I was so happy to be back this year.” Liar, liar, pants on fire, the voice in my head singsongs, sounding very much like my five-year-old daughter. “You all did an amazing job.” My voice is steadier, more self-assured. I’ve got everything under control except my auburn hair that’s all over the place and my glasses that keep on sliding down.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. “I have to take this.” I wave my phone in the air. “You have fun tonight. Sorry I can’t join.” More lies.
“Hope to see you soon.”
My bullshit sensor beeps so loudly I’m surprised it doesn’t set off the hotel alarm. I wait until she and the group are out of the bar, then check no one else is too close to me before clicking on Accept.
Mom’s face appears on my phone as the bartender slides the eggnog I ordered toward me. “How was everything?”
A waste of time and money and self-esteem.
But I can’t say that.
“Great.” Another lie.
“That’s wonderful. What did they think about your new layered cake recipe?”
“I had to change plans.” My suitcase never arrived. So not only did I have to change course, but I also spent money I don’t have on new clothes. “They loved the fondant cake demonstration.” They didn’t.
I sigh. “I’m coming home early tomorrow. I almost made it to the Spoon Up ultimate competition… but… you know… next time.”
“Of course.” Mom is using her You got this, baby girl! tone, even though I turned thirty last year. “Ava wanted to tell you goodnight again.” Mom hands the phone over to my daughter.
“I love you, Mommy. Have fun in Lost Vegas.”
“Hmm-hmmm. Goodnight, Mommy.”
“Goodnight, Ava, my lovie.” I force my voice to sound upbeat, but as I hang up, waves of crushing disappointment roll through me. The judges’ words echo in my mind: “Too careful. Too bland. Too predictable.”
The only reason people approached my booth was to inundate me with questions about my sister Sorcha getting jilted at the altar and going viral as #TheLeftoverBride.
A guy who must have bathed in his cologne invades my personal space. The bar isn’t crowded, and he doesn’t need to be this close to me. He’s wearing a Sit on my Lap shirt with a drunk Santa. Classy. The way he stares down my décolleté gives me major creepy vibes, and annoyance drips down my spine.
His hand settles on the back of my chair. “You look like you need another drink.”
Even his tone is sleazy. And dealing with him right now sounds as appealing as listening to Marion telling me again how she should have won that Wedding Cake competition ten years ago.
Squaring my shoulders, I stand up. “Actually, I’m meeting someone.”
And I rush toward the back of the bar, waving like I saw the person I had been waiting for.
A man with a three-day beard and dark smoldering eyes waves back.
My heart sprints before screeching to a halt.
He’s changed into dark pants and a gray dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. And he still has that small pink pin.
“Say the word, and I’ll escort him to the other side of the world.”
My first knee-jerk reaction is to square my shoulders. I don’t need to run away, and I don’t need help.
“I can take care of him.” But I sound as exhausted as I feel, and Smoldering Eyes isn’t patronizing. He looks at me like he understands me. And what am I doing? Stepping into my favorite romance novel? This day is clearly taking a toll.
Smoldering Eyes tilts his head. “One word, and he’s out of here.”
Creepy Guy clears his throat behind us. “Hey sweetie, are you one of Santa’s helpers? I have a few wishes you could help me with.”
“Uh. Word,” I reply.
He shoots Creepy Guy a get-the-fuck-away look and does a quick gesture with his hand. A man that could be security approaches Creepy Guy, who leaves without protesting.
“He won’t annoy you or anyone tonight.”
The way he says it is reassuring.
I raise an eyebrow, and he does the same in response—before tipping an imaginary hat to me with that confident half-grin I’ve noticed before. I’m noticing way too many things about him.
“I have a way.” He watches me in such a way that I might combust here and there. “At your service.” His deep voice does something to me. Is this what he says in bed, too? I imagine him rough and gentle, demanding and giving. I need to get ahold of myself.
I tilt my head. “Are you a serial killer?”
He raises one amused eyebrow. “Nope.”
“Married? Engaged? Seeing someone?”
“Nope. Nope. And nope.”
And because I’m arching my back, just thinking of how that three-day stubble might feel on my skin. And because no one ever has to know. And because I won’t see ever see him again…
I toss the last slice of caution to the wind full of need that envelops me. “Can I kiss you?”
“Can I kiss you back?”
His gaze drops to my mouth, and my breath hitches.
And I offer rewards in exchange for your pledge to fund said-production (rewards include: an early electronic copy of the audiobook, your name in the credits, pick a name for a character, more audiobooks, chat with me about self-publishing and so so much more…).
The project will only be funded if it reaches its goal and you can choose your reward (they start at $1 or even pledge whatever you’d like without a reward here).
People who back Kickstarter projects are offered tangible rewards or experiences in exchange for their pledges. This model traces its roots to subscription model of arts patronage, where artists would go directly to their audiences to fund their work.
Closed caption: My story? I was born in 1981 … Oh no, not my story but the story of this project…Oh, okay, Keep reading…
There we go.
#TheLeftoverBride is a book I wrote not long after my autologous stem cell transplant as I needed a novel I could concentrate on that would make me smile. And a book that I hoped would make people smile.
This is the dedication of the book:
It seems it worked for many readers.
Those are some reviews the book has received:
“This book is so much fun! The perfect combination of romance, angst, and humor, it’s your favorite Hallmark movie’s sassier, steamier cousin.”
“Sweet, sassy and fun!”
An audiobook allows me to reach out to so many more people around the world. Maybe making them smile, too.
And by funding this project, you ensure that it can be made available to libraries as well as retailers. In addition, I can make the book available at a lower price around the world if this project is fully funded, than if it was made exclusive to only one distributor.
This book has characters who have been through a lot. Sorcha has OCD (wonder where I got the inspiration for that?). Ryan dealt with a tough childhood (that I’m lucky I had to research a lot as my experience differs from his) and thinking his career defines him (hmmm).
And an audiobook production requires investment up front for my wonderful and amazingly talented audiobook narrator.
Do you know the amount of work for one hour of finished audio (narrated, edited and mastered)?
It takes about 6 hours to produce one hour of finished audio: about two hours of narration and going through the audio to edit it (take away possible repetitions, mistakes, extraneous noises, clicks) and master it (ensuring the noise level is to the requirements. One also needs to re-listen to the finished file for quality control.
So, when you’re listening to an audiobook of about eight hours, it may have taken the narrator/producer about 48 hours to produce, not counting the breaks when you’re recording for your voice or for the way you sit or stand.
That also doesn’t take into consideration the pre-work that might be needed like reading the entire book before you record, making notes to make sure you keep the characters’ voice the same throughout and so much more…
When you hire a narrator/producer, you hire someone who can not only act and perform, you also hire someone who knows the intricacies of audiobook narration and production.
Once the audiobook is distributed, I receive between 10% and 40% of the price of audiobook (depending on the royalty share agreement, on the way a listener buys or borrows the audiobook, on the retailer).
With this payment structure, I might decide to put the audiobook available in places where my return on investment might be higher. It not only means the audiobook wouldn’t be available everywhere, but recouping said investment can still take quite a long time.
In addition, the narrator may also take a risk when they agree to a part of their return being royalty-share because what if the audiobook doesn’t do as well on the retailers? Not from any fault of their own, but maybe the marketing or advertising plan doesn’t work the way it could/should?
So… this would be how the project funding would be used:
First, the audiobook will be made available on a larger distribution platform, which would include libraries. Libraries can then purchase the audiobook at a much lower price;
$2000 for the audiobook narrator/producer: this would be an actual remuneration of $40 per hour for the work done. (This is the median hourly rate for an experienced audiobook narrator). This narrator has gone above and beyond for previous audiobooks which she had agreed to do via royalty-share (where she had reduced her rate per finished hour but, like me, ended up making a loss);
About $130 for Kickstarter fees;
About $130 in processing fees;
About $200 for shipping (including some international shipping);
About $70 in taxes;
About $20 for the platform enabling distribution of audiobooks electronically;
About $250 for ads once the audiobook is available worldwide;
And because I can dream, right? Anything above the goal would be split this way: half for the narrator and half for me.
By funding this project, you not only will help me make more people smile. It will make it easier for me to have the audiobook possibly available in libraries and in more countries around the world where people speak or learn English. But you will also enable me to accomplish other projects (such as more bilingual books and more actual writing…)
So, thank you, thank you, thank you SO MUCH! It means the world to me.
Risks and challenges
All the rewards are either already in production or will be as soon as the project is successfully funded. The only one is the short story reward. That reward might take me a bit more time to get more to, which is why the delivery is longer. When it comes to the short story, you’ll be able to give me names, tropes or story idea. There will be a survey to fill out. If the story idea is out of my competencies or a topic I do not write about, I will deliver a short story that might be slightly different but will still be exclusive.
The cover for #SweetsForLove is here… I repeat, the cover for my next romcom #SweetsForLove is here. And I love it. And not only because I designed it. The illustrations of Alessandro and Aisling were designed by Qamber Emporium.
A baking competition for the Happily Ever After channel could bring success to my small-town bakery… and one night of toe-curling passion that would keep me warm for years to come. But nothing more. Because I don’t have time for love. Right? Right.
Alessandro Torre marches back into my life with the same tattooed broad shoulders, half-grin and smoldering-dark eyes that had me melting like butter almost a year ago. I was never supposed to see him again. To me, he was Thor (because of his hammer). But now, we’re stuck together with the best sugar glue in town. A former grumpy bodyguard (and so stubborn!), he’s the head of security of Sweets For Love, the baking show I have to join if I want to save my bakery. This time around, I won’t throw caution to the wind. Maybe, except for one night. Just one. Right? Right.
Jamie Bond, or should I say Aisling O’Connor? Here we are. Again. For months, I dreamed about seeing her again. Touching her again. Finishing what we started almost a year ago in that elevator. But now, there are rules in place. She has a daughter, and she’s even more stubborn than I am. Plus, I learned the hard way I can’t trust anyone. All I need to do is finish this stupid assignment with my dickhead of a brother and move on. I promised my men I wouldn’t let them down. Nope. Not happening. Except maybe for one night. No feelings. I don’t do relationship and love isn’t on her agenda.
No one else can know. Because if they do, we might lose everything.
Other standalone in the Swans Cove series: #TheLeftoverBride
For fans of second chance romance novels (in this case… more third chance romance novel). Make sure you one-click this holiday rom-com that reviewers have praised as “Hallmark movie’s steamier cousin”…
All Sorcha O’Connor wants for Christmas is for her life to turn into a Hallmark movie—but sexier. Ryan Sawyer has a few things on his wishlist, such as staying away from Swans Cove and getting his career back on track. And he wants Sorcha. Always has, always will.
The Chemical Engineer even recorded a video to help promote this book on both TikTok and Instagram… I mean… 🙂
*** Special pre-order price of $0.99 ****A second chance romance set during the holiday season in a small town on Maryland’s Eastern Shore: full of laughter and heartwarming moments (and some sexy moments), checklists, family dynamics, a stubborn cat, and a rescue dog.
All Sorcha O’Connor wants for Christmas is for her life to turn into a Hallmark movie—but sexier. Ryan Sawyer has a few things on his wishlist. First, he wants to stay away from Swans Cove. Second, he wants his NHL career back. And third, he wants Sorcha. Always has, always will.
When wedding dress designer Sorcha O’Connor got stranded at the altar and went viral as #TheLeftoverBride, she lost everything: her fiancé, her thriving business, her glowing reputation, and her dreams. To forget the upcoming first anniversary of that fateful day, Sorcha is ticking items off her “31 Things to Do Before the 31st” list and working day and night to get her life back on track. Not on her list? Falling for her former best friend —at one point more than best friend—hockey star Ryan Sawyer. Especially since he’s now known as the #HockeyHottie; Sorcha’s got enough hashtags for a lifetime.
Ryan Sawyer skated out of Swans Cove right out of high school. And since then, he stuck to the one item on his wishlist he could control. He busted his ass, making sure he always had the perfect excuse for avoiding Swans Cove: hockey. But thanks to his injured shoulder, rumors about his uncertain future at the Tacoma Angels, and his mother’s birthday, he’s back for a quick visit. His agent and the team’s publicist were crystal clear—Ryan’s got to avoid stirring up trouble or risk losing his spot on the team. But he can’t stop thinking about Sorcha, the redhead who knows him better than even his therapist. Ryan wasn’t there for her when she needed him most, and for that, she might want to shred him with her dressmaker’s shears, though… Maybe he could just pass by and say hello?
When Sorcha’s former #RunawayGroom becomes the Most Coveted Bachelor in America, virtual eyes focus on Sorcha again. This time, Ryan’s not going to bolt—even when Sorcha blurts out on national TV that both she and Ryan are working on their so-called “Happy Lists”…together.
Will the spotlight finally work in Sorcha and Ryan’s favor? Or will their past—and their hashtags—get in the way of their Happily Ever After?
Today, on the latest episode of “A Self-Published Author’s Diary” podcast, I am answering two questions I’ve received from a reader named Amanda (Thanks, Amanda :-)):
Did I always know I would write for readers?
And where does that confidence come from?
I go back into my junior high writing of poems and my high school writing of romance and my later years of fanfiction writing to answer the first question. And when it comes to the second question and the confidence aspect, I try to analyze a bit where that confidence comes from. 🙂 And how fleeting it is throughout the process.
I talk about my very scientific writing process of “ooohhh” and “yay” and about my love for romance books. Readers pick up those books knowing what the ending will be and yet we still get so enthralled by them. I think that’s really a testimony to the magic and the art of writing romance.
I also mention the podcast “My Imaginary Friends with L. Penelope”‘s latest episode which I recommend for all writers struggling with their manuscript: https://lpenelope.com/podcast/
And I give an update on my upcoming plan for #TheLeftoverBride cover reval…Don’t forget #TheLeftoverBride is available for pre-order for only $0.99. Choose your favorite e-retailer here: https://books2read.com/TheLeftoverBride
As always, thank you for subscribing, rating and reviewing!