C.D. Breadner's Blog

cdbreadner:

Love this, very true.

Originally posted on Christa Simpson:

This post is my refection on how the e-book market has been changing, based on my own experiences and those of my fellow authors—both new and established.

Warning: I’m going to be straight with you.

It’s no surprise that the book market has become saturated with new titles within the last few years. It seems like writing has become a contagious disease and the act of self-publishing is the antidote. Now, not only do I have to compete with the big guys—by big guys, I mean traditionally published authors with a full support staff: editors, designers, public relations, advertising, extended distribution, street teams, Goodreads groups, dedicated bloggers and other authors in the company, who all show a preference to sharing each other within their imprint, but I have to stand up against a throng of my fellow indies just to maintain my fan base.

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In January of 2013 I wrote a novel taking place in and around the events of World War II. I used the progress of the Canadian Third Infantry as the timeline and made up the rest. So these characters are not based on real people, they are figments of my imagination.

The book is currently available for pre-order on Amazon and will be available in paperback and eBook this Friday, January 9th.

Here is a sample of the story:

He lived for his nights out. It was the only time anything was … different. Out of the ordinary. The only time he felt like he was taking part in something bigger than himself. When else would he have the chance to stumble shit-faced down a street in London with Brits, guys from British Columbia, Nova Scotia, even an American who could throw a punch like a prize fighter. It was so random. The randomness was what he craved.

“Oh–best behaviour, boys. I think that’s Sergeant Murphy.” Walton’s back straightened and he swallowed.

“It doesn’t matter how hard you try to look sober. He’s going to know you’re shitfaced,” David told him.

Murphy was talking with another man in uniform, a Canadian, but David didn’t know him. Due to the loud singing behind them, both men saw them coming about a half block away. Murphy broke off his conversation with the other officer and approached them. His face was … even more serious than usual.

“Sergeant Murphy!” Craig Jasper greeted him enthusiastically. “I’d like to buy you a drink! What’s your poison?”

Murphy just smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. David felt his feet slowing, the rush of the alcohol and the fight slowly waning. Something was up.

Murphy had his cap in hand, and he was twisting it. David stopped, and the Yank had to as well. “Gentlemen,” Murphy greeted them in his usual, cordial way. “I see we’re having fun.” He looked at David, frowning. “What happened to your face?”

David squeezed the shoulders of his new American friend. “Alfie Hopkins happened to me. Just a little fun, don’t worry, sir.”

“You fellas might want to head back early, get a good rest.”

It was his voice. Murphy knew something was coming, but he wasn’t going to spill. He felt everyone around him tense, backs getting straighter, a few cleared throats. Even the Yanks and Brits could sense it.

“What do you know?” David asked.

Murphy turned his pale blue eyes to him. “Can’t say for sure, Cleary. But you’ll all want to be feeling healthy the next couple of days. Head back now, find somewhere to flop, you might be able to get a decent amount of sleep. Either way, do not stay out late. I mean it, sleep this off. You’ll thank me.”

That done, he put his cap back on, turned and walked back down the street the same way they were going.

“Holy shit,” Walton whispered. “Is this it? Are we finally going in?”

“I don’t know why you’re so eager to get thrown at the Germans. Did you hear about those poor bastards from the First at Dieppe? Nineteen hundred were taken prisoner.” Lou Reinhold could always be counted on to go in to hysterics.

“Shut up Lou,” Higgins snapped. David agreed. Finally they were being taken off the shelf and put to use. Scary or not, they were going to serve their purpose.

“I heard it could be as early as the day after tomorrow,” one of the Brits said.

“No one will know when it happens,” Alfred added. “If anyone has heard anything … it was likely … what do you call it? Misinformation?”

“Maybe we should head back to the base,” David said slowly, mulling it all over.

“Easy for you to say,” Higgins laughed. “Not everyone here got lucky tonight. I want to get laid.”

David shook his head. “I want to head back. You’re on your own, Higgins.”

“Well I’d hope so. I’m not going to need your help for this, Cleary.”

They all laughed again, but the ball of … whatever it was in his stomach didn’t let him so much as crack a smile. Maybe it wasn’t fear … not exactly. Just the uncertainty. Or maybe the possibility that it was all wrong and the war would end without so much as a single shot being issued from his rifle.

Hopkins shook him back to the present. “Cleary. You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Tired.”

“I’ll bet, you tom cat.” Walton lit his cigarette. “Where they keep the women at, Green?”

One of the Brits was deciding where they should go next to meet women. All David could think about was his bunk. How he’d like to put his head down and just pass out for the next ten hours.

“You guys go ahead,” he said. “I’ll head back with Murphy.”

They all called him a pussy and a pansy, but he ignored them. David loped off after Murphy’s silhouette, calling after him. Murphy turned, waiting for David to catch up.

“You done for the night?”

David smiled. “I tend to work fast, sir.”

Murphy smiled back. “You look like shit. Why’d that guy make meatloaf of your face?”

“He wanted a good fight. I doubt I delivered.”

“I can’t remember having that much testosterone.”

“You do,” David assured him. “You’re just not drunk right now, so you’re aware of how stupid people are.”

They walked briskly but silently. The streets were emptying as bars were closing. They passed a group of American paratroopers, loudly making their way to the next pub just as Cleary’s crew had been. Once they were past them David had to ask.

“I know you’re a Sergeant, and that means you’re maybe three percent more likely to know anything … but are we finally being sent in?”

Murphy shrugged. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know anything. All I know is that as of tomorrow all passes are going to be suspended indefinitely. Even that much I’m not supposed to share.”

David sighed. “I’m not in a rush to die, but honestly … sitting around waiting to be of use is just ridiculous. Another month and I might go out of my mind.”

Murphy stopped. David did too, turning to face him. Murphy’s expression gave him pause. “And I’m terrified for the same reason. I hate not knowing what the point is of what we’re doing. But I’m scared.”

David was taken aback. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

“Don’t apologize. Christ, stop calling sir.” Murphy stalked away from him, rubbing the back of his neck. David followed him anyway, a few steps behind. Seeing the Sergeant terrified had him stone-cold sober.

It was June 3rd, 1944.

Merry Freakmas.

Thank you to Geek City for this interview! Truly appreciate your time. Bevan and I discuss my three existing books, the next two in the works and NaNoWriMo. For more Saskatchewan-based geek talk follow Geek City on their Facebook Page or just jump right to their podcast.

Here’s me droning on and on about writing and stuff. Thanks again Bevan – you made me think on quite a few of these questions.

And yes, I am doing a reading at the John M. Cuelenaere Public Library in Prince Albert, SK this Thursday at 7pm. If you’re in the area feel free to stop by!

And even more freaky stuff from the Freak Circle Press …  this time a collaboration. This was a lot of fun.

New Release: Postcards from Sturgis!.

From the Freak Circle Press …

Halfway to NaNoWriMo.

Hello all!

So, the last little while I had a bit of a life outside my laptop. I was lucky enough to play Lizzie Borden in an amazing production of “Blood Relations” by Canadian playwright Sharon Pollock. It was awesome. The cast was awesome, the set was beautiful, and the costumes were all stunning. I’m quite sad that it’s all over, actually.

Tank’s Book’s Milestone Reached!

But that means I have time to write again! Just recently I hit a milestone with Tank’s book in the Red Rebels MC Series, and the third Sin Eater book is coming along nicely as well. So what do I go and do? I sign up for NaNoWriMo 2014, along with many of the Freak Circle Press writers.

I know, I must be out of my mind. For those who don’t know, November is National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to hit a word count tally in the span of one month, usually around 50,000. And I have this idea for a series of novella-length stories taking place in a post-apocalyptic world, featuring a cast of badass women. It’s a little idea that’s been niggling at me for a while, and I think NaNoWriMo is the perfect time to take it on. It’ll be campy, pulp-fiction like, and I’m excited about it.

So this is just me checking in, letting you know that more work is coming, as is one of my favourite times of year! So I’d like to wish you a very spooky and thrilling Halloween.

Maybe you are too! Maybe you’re standing right in front of me right now! Nice to meet you, by the way.

In honour of this event I’ve marked the first ebook of my Red Rebels’ MC Series, Indulge, down by one dollar on Amazon.ca. You can see my literary offerings on my Amazon Author Page. I hope you enjoy the show – and happy reading!

If you were already a follower on Fanfiction thank you for visiting here as well. U have moved my full-length Fanfiction stories to this site as well as the Freak Circle Press blog. I hope new folks can find some joy in these stories, because I had so much fun writing them.

The “Valerie Turner” Saga (or “Valverse” as one reader called it):

Something Wicked (entirely) Valerie Turner wasn’t sure what brought a man like Tig Trager to her door, but her own complicated and painful past will ensure that he’s not a passing footnote.

This House Is Haunted (entirely) Short follow-up to Something Wicked. Left with a lot of unanswered questions, everyone’s favourite fuss-budget Teresa the assistant tries to understand her place in the mystery left behind by Valerie Turner. Takes place before the denouement of “Something Wicked.”

Rendezvous (entirely) It doesn’t happen often, but Val finds herself in a spot where she has to ask for help. Is there really any other option outside of calling Charming again?

Last Call (entirely) Valerie Turner is ready to take the plunge and return to Charming. How long will SAMCRO’s new direction last, and will she be welcome to stay? The final instalment of the Valerie Turner “series.”

Stand Alone Stories

Happy Gets His Girl (entirely) Thriller Diller (def.) something like a movie, book, or television program that is thrilling. Claire Cicero takes the law into her own hands one time, and she likes it. A lot. (rated M because it’s an excuse for smut)

Thriller Diller (entirely) Happy Lowman: dog rescuer and scary, lonely man.

Final Wisdom (entirely) A short fence separates her careful world from absolute anarchy, and yet Jamie Taylor has bigger concerns in her life than the biker living next door to her and her nephew.

Originally posted on FC PRESS:

The first book of the Red Rebels MC is now live on Amazon and Smashwords.

Gertrude Dénise is rootless, divorced and floating. Trying to decide if she wants adventure or a stable safe home life, “Gertie” has resolved to try a little bit of everything. Perhaps she missed out on something marrying young. Or maybe she’s never known what she wants.

David “Buck” Buckingham is the recently-appointed Sergeant At Arms for the Red Rebels Motorcycle Club. Steadfast, steady and dependable, made to fulfil every duty that patch on his kutte requires. As much as he can be counted on, he has a soft spot for a certain hazel-eyed redhead who proves to be much more unpredictable.

Buck is another new experience. Gertie is an entertaining contradiction. Buck knows he could be a danger to her, but his lifestyle not be the biggest threat to the woman who is starting to mean more and more…

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