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E.. Coli Be Damned: "Bobbi's Canon: Round 2" Paperback Is Finally Available

5/30/2015

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Oh, the trauma that lies between an author an her goals! The paperback version of Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 is finally ready and up for sale on Amazon Books, but it's been a bit of a long, bumpy road to this point. So much transpired in the final leg of the journey, I didn't know if I'd cross the finish line.

First, I did something I really never thought I'd do: I accepted a full-time job. As in, I decided to work for someone else, someone other than myself. So far, I have to say my new boss is nicer than my old boss (har, har, har), but the crunch to tie up some of that freelance stuff before my first day had me anxious. Turns out, that would be the least of my worries.

On the morning of May 8, I woke up with my tummy in discomfort. It wasn't nausea. Constipation? Nope. Run-of-the-mill monthly cramping? Huh-uh. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was a different sort of dull pain and I didn't feel quite myself. I took my morning meds with a full glass of water as prescribed ... and then the worst pain I've ever felt in my life hit my entire abdomen, doubling me over my desk. Hunched over, I shuffled back to my bed and lay down, ready to nap it off. Dumb, dumb, dumb!

That notion lasted about 10 seconds. I called Enzo, teeth gritted and in the beginnings of uncontrollable shivers, and told him I had "a bit of an emergency situation going on" and he need to come home asap. He was home in no time, no questions asked, and we high-tailed it to the Mercy Jefferson's ER. Long story short, a burst cyst had infected my organs with E. coli, the infection entered my bloodstream, and I was in sepsis. (Sepsis can go from mild to "Boom, you're dead" in hours, so this was serious stuff!) I spent five days on boatloads of intravenous antibiotics and fluids to kill the infection before my doc released me on several more days of rest (and 10 more days on high doses of antibiotics). Needless to say, everything else in my life went onto the back burner. Freelance work, my official start day for the new job. The book. With my energy still flagging 22 days later, most things have ended about a month behind.

Even wading back into work slowly, other roadblocks popped up. The book cover that was so beautiful on the PDF looked awful when the paperback proof arrived. I had to retool it to make everything readable (which is how the new, lovely white title lettering came to be). Each change to the cover or manuscript sets you back about 10 days or so on the paperback, so it's a maddeningly slow process when you're champing at the bit to get a book into people's hands.

Well, today that process has finally borne fruit. Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 is finally available in paperback form through Amazon Books as well as right here in my Bookstore!

NOTES: To sweeten the deal for you, I have several specials you can take advantage of:
  • Now through June 17, you can get Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 eBook (works with any eReader) on Smashwords for just 99 cents when you enter the following code: AB99G.
  • Purchase Bobbi's Canon: Round 1 and Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 in paperback and get Bobbi's Canon: Round 3 paperback edition for just $7.00 (plus shipping), or:
  • Purchase the entire three-book set in paperback and get an eBook set for FREE.
  • Purchase Bobbi's Canon: Round 1 and Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 in eBook version and get Bobbi's Canon: Round 3 in eBook for FREE.
To redeem your discount for Round 3 or free eBook set, go to my Contact page once you've purchased (we're on the honor system here, so you do not need to have ordered your paperbacks through my website), and use the Contact Form to let me know what you've purchased and which offer you'd like to accept. When Round 3 is released in late fall/early winter, your freebies will be sent to you as soon as the book is released.

In the meantime, use that Contact Form to sign up for email updates about the book series, as well as exciting news on satellite projects you're sure to enjoy!

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"Bobbi's Canon: Round 2" eBook Edition Now Available!

5/17/2015

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Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 by Barbara E. StefanoBobbi's Canon: Round 2
It's been a long time coming, but it's finally here in digital formats: Bobbi's Canon: Round 2! The followup to Bobbi's Canon sees the vulnerable redhead courting death, wallowing in despair in dangerous ways, and taking mind-numbingly stupid risks. And such paths rarely end in a good spot.

Follow Bobbi as she stumbles through the mixed-up, muddled-up, shook-up world of bar minions and egotistic, manipulative man-sluts on a journey that could lead to salvation ... or damnation.

The digital edition is available for purchase now, both on Kindle and Smashwords! Customers who purchased the first book on Amazon (Kindle edition) will automatically receive a discount for Round 2.

And now through June 17, you can get Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 eBook through Smashwords (in your chosen format) for just 99 cents! Simply enter the code
AB99G at checkout to claim your discount.

Check back for updates on the release of Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 in paperback and via other digital booksellers. In the meantime, Bobbi's Canon: Round 1 is available via the following booksellers:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Smashwords

And, of course, you can order the paperback version when it's available through Kindle, or get a signed copy delivered for $12.99 plus shipping by visiting my Bookstore.
 

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"Bobbi's Canon: Round 2" Finally on Its Way

4/29/2015

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It's a triumphant feeling to get a monumental task tackled.

That's how I feel today -- triumphant -- as I shuffle Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 to the formatter to make my words look pretty, make my pile o' pages look like a real book. I started the big writing push on this second book in February, and even though that's only a couple of months in the rearview mirror, it now seems a century ago. Now, in just a couple of weeks, another crisp hardcopy will be in my hands and another Bobbi Lane story available for your reading pleasure.

Keep an eye right here on my website for information on pre-ordering your signed hardcopies of Round 2 sometime around mid-May (or Round 1, if you don't already have one), as well as notifications of eBook availability on Kindle, Nook, iTunes, Google Books and Smashwords.

Triumph!

Order Bobbi's Canon: Round 1 for Kindle, Nook, Google and Apple devices, and on paperback.

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Crunch Time

4/2/2015

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Bobbi's Canon: Round 2
The rough draft of Bobbi's Canon: Round 2 is done and ready for some intense editing. I'm grateful, actually, to have had a couple of weeks away from the manuscript so I can tackle the editing with fresh eyes -- arguably the most important element of self-editing! The next few weeks will be a time of serious crunching: editing, beta readers, re-editing ... and I've taken on the task of formatting it myself this time. I can do it. It'll take me a bazillion times longer than the pros, but I can do this!

As soon as I have a firm grip on a release date, I'll open it up to pre-orders and announce special deals. In the meantime, I've done a mock-up of the cover for book two. You'll note, of course, that it's the same general pattern as Round 1, but a more intense gray to reflect a much, much darker story.

Order Bobbi's Canon: Round 1 for Kindle, Nook, Google and Apple devices, and on paperback.

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Deep-Freeze Priorities

2/19/2015

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It is stinkin' cold in MO today. So cold it gums up the blood flow to my brain.

Worse, it's frozen our pipes. Like solid-as-a-friggin'-rock frozen. And we don't even have bottled water in the house, aside from a pack of Perrier and a 12-oz leftover of regular water from a summer picnic. I do my normal morning business and do my best to take meds and wash up with a portion of that tiny bottle and some hand sanitizer.

Drats! What about coffee? Damn you, Missouri weather! That's more vital than my meds. Without it, cranky, dark -- possibly murderous -- clouds fog my already sludgey gray matter. There's roughly 5 ounces left off the non-fizzy water. I should save it for the next little washing.

Screw it -- coffee. Iced coffee made from the too-sweet, instant, squirt bottle variety. One must prioritize. These are desperate times.
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Sneak Preview: "Bobbi's Canon: Round 2"

2/3/2015

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 For a compassionate, bleeding-heart kind of guy, Sal Harper could be a bit of a schmuck.

Salvatore J. Harper, Attorney at Law. Licensed whip-cracker, and certified and bonded pain in the ass. The married father of two was earnest in his concern for his newest client, but at the moment he was wearing his “right now I’m not your friend, I’m your lawyer and I’m dead serious” face, anxiously fingering the much-abused tab of the “Lane, Bobbi E.” file folder.

He’d pulled that file from his cabinet close to a dozen times over the last eighty-some-odd days and slapped it down in front of her for dramatic effect. His patented, David E. Kelley legal-drama-worthy, “gotcha” performance. It was supposed to scare the young ‘uns, startle them out of their malaise. He got genuinely pissed off when she giggled at it, so she stopped doing that. When she could help it.

“Why do I bother giving you professional advice—damn solid advice I might add—when you completely ignore it? Am I an idiot or something?”

“I’ve often wondered that myself,” Bobbi said. She’d uttered that in jest. But when Sal glared up from her file, icy as an old nun, she hastily buried the emerging smirk under a mask of feigned guilt and deep contrition. “Um, in answer to your first question. I’m at a loss.”

Her late-night donuts in Potter’s cornfield last weekend left an impressive pattern of muddy crop circles, albeit ones not nearly up to the artistic standards that would lure UFOlogists from their far corners to rural Missou-rah with cameras and whatever-o-meters in tow. They did lure John Potter out of bed at three in the A.M. Which lured a slew of obscenities from his spittle-moistened, sleep-deprived mouth, and a loaded shotgun from his gun cabinet. The commotion in turn lured Deputy Clarence Jackson.

The strapping black rookie, a close neighbor of Potter’s, had singled out Bobbi for special attention on a couple of his sweeps through The Dive during his late-night rounds. He flirted blatantly and shamelessly, flashed that Rembrandt-white grin that was too cocky and too fetching to go unanswered. It was all totally unprofessional. And it totally got him laid. Repeatedly. ...

“I fail to see the humor in all of this, Bobbi.”

Sal had gone from supremely irritated to outright livid during her f*** down memory lane. She must have been smiling, because he was thumbing that dog-eared file tab, fully primed for another melodramatic display of lawerly indignation. This would have intimidated most clients. But Bobbi—who had produced his weekly hour of sports radio at KCRP and headed off with him afterward for drinks and karaoke more times than she could count—couldn’t look into that face, with the puppy-dog eyes and thin sliver of a mouth, without hearing the lawyer’s pitchy, drunken rendition of “Old Time Rock & Roll.”

“What part of ‘You cannot drive for ninety days’ do you not get? What part of ‘You cannot drink and drive at all, ever,’ do you not get?”

Sal’s ruddy face grew redder. He picked up “Lane, Bobbi E.” and peevishly tossed her onto the walnut desk. Bobbi snickered and then transitioned seamlessly into a fake sneeze. Sal handed her a tissue absentmindedly with almost the same flick of the wrist he’d used to fling her file.

“You’re lucky Potter didn’t want to pursue charges. And I don’t even want to know what kind of ‘agreement’ you worked out with Deputy Jackson to put, eh—let’s see here—the lovely Sherl Craft into the driver’s seat for your little Mud-Capades extravaganza. You’re lucky McInnery didn’t stop you. She was on duty that night, you know?”

“She would’ve given me a pass. We’re cool.”

“Ha!” Sal plopped back his in office chair, adjusting his already perfectly centered bowtie. It was a nervous habit. “Jane would have come down on you harder than anyone. She’s ‘cool’ alright—by-the-book cool. Give a green-eyed monster-menace a free pass? Shi—”

The man worked himself into a mildly apoplectic state in his rant. He poked his index finger into his desk, mussing his fine, side-parted hair. He was overdue for a cut and coif.

“If Jane had been the officer at Potter’s that night, your skinny ass would be in the county jail right now playing second-string bunk-bitch to some chick with a beard. And she’d have been doing you a favor, Shirley Muldowney. Judge MacQuoid going easy on you sure as hell didn’t straighten you out. You better hope Jane doesn’t get wind of this from someone Jackson blabbed to. She might still investigate you.”

Bobbi wasn’t smiling now. She was for-real straight-faced. And scared. She was oddly unafraid of dying but jail terrified the poo out of her. One night (and mourning) in the pokey was her limit. The bitches she bumped elbows with in that shit can the night she led the Sheriff’s Office all over The Lou on the hunt for Robbie were some seriously unhinged kooks. She’d Thelma and Louis the shit out of that Grand Prix before she’d share space with those butterfly catchers again.

“I guess it’s a good thing I have you, Sally,” she shrugged. Bravado. Her success at faking it was hit-and-miss.

“I’m an attorney, not a magician, and I’m not a time-traveler. But more important, I’m way bigger than you.” Sal stepped out from behind his giant desk and stood over Bobbi with his hand outstretched.

“Keys. Now.”

“No way, honcho.”

“I’m twice your size, Bobbi. I will use brute force. I will use legal force, if necessary. Fork ‘em over.”

“Fork yourself.”

Sal lunged and grabbed her around her shoulders in a crushing bear hug, rooting around her body for her handbag. Bobbi, pinned firmly as she was to the cushioned armchair, twisted the bag out of his reach but couldn’t break herself free. When she arched her back to create some wiggle room to slide off the seat, the maneuver pivoted her right tit directly into Sal’s hand.

That contact forced an instant pole reversal. They separated like two negatively charged magnets. Sal withdrew to the far corner of his office, shaking the inappropriate grope off his hands as he shuddered and paced, while Bobbi hunched over in the armchair pulling down her mini tee further than the fabric was designed to stretch. The lawyer planted his feet in a wide stance and squinted at her, considering his next move.

“You don’t have a spare, do you?”

“Pffffssshhh …,” she snorted unconvincingly. Shit. That hit-and-miss bravado again.

Sal grinned ear to ear. He could savor another Kelley gotcha.

“Unless you want me to fondle you again, hand it over, sweet cheeks,” he said. He worked his hands open and closed in a rapid lobster-claw motion.

“Ugh!” Bobbi slung the handbag at him, only half-trying to avoid his head.

“Front pocket, jerkface.”

Order Bobbi's Canon: Round 1 for Kindle, Nook, Google and Apple devices, and on paperback.

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Stepping Outside the Bubble -- And Letting Others into Your Writer's Shrine

1/27/2015

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Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
I'm letting myself be altered. I've been holed up in my shrine for too long, and it was long overdue.

Like millions of others, I bought Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl. (I won't review it here: I'm not deep enough into it, and there'd  be little I could add to the lengthy discussion anyway.) You see, I'm a writer, and for too long I forgot that writers need to be readers too. At least any writer worth her salt has to. Sure, I read all the time: blogs, Facebook posts, news, those vapid little quizzes like the ones Amy Dunne journals about in Flynn's bestseller. But I wasn't making time to consume books. This is what I want to write; this is what I should be reading, right?

And, sadly, I had forgotten what an amazing influence any piece of literature can be on how you process and express. It doesn't matter that I saw the movie and know the ending. What matters is the scenery I'll take in along the way. That "scenery" is inspiring me. I'm taken with how Flynn puts her words together, and it's a reminder to me to be fearless in being my authentic self and doing what comes natural to me -- rules be damned.

It's not a blatant influence, one where I'm compelled to borrow wording or "Ooh, nice use of punctuation! Think I'll be using that!" It's just a nice butterfly effect that happens when you walk outside of your pristine bubble once in a while. It's the casual brush against a stranger in the supermarket that transfers coat fibers or cat hair -- maybe even the cold virus -- onto you. You don't even know it's there, but it's there. And it changes your world in little and not-so-little ways without your even realizing it. You don't have to go out looking for it; just let it happen.

Order Bobbi's Canon: Round 1 for Kindle, Nook, Google and Apple devices, and on paperback.

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Sneak Preview: "Bobbi's Canon: Round 2"

1/23/2015

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      “I think you have a stalker. Behind you—don’t turn around!”
    Sherl Lane-Craft squinted intently at the sandy-haired young man who had followed her and her little sister several blocks to Blueberry Hill and taken a seat at the next table. There was something vaguely familiar in the square-jawed, sober-looking gent—Bobbi could see that much in Sherl’s expression—and it was killing her not to pivot in her seat for a good look.
    “Anyone you recognize?” she asked, irked. “Is it the dude from NBC with the God-awful plush Pergo remnant he calls a toupee?”
    “No, no faux follicles on this one. He’s pretty cute, actually—kinda Robert Redford-y. I think he’s one of the newbies at CNN.”
        A pen and tiny notepad peeked out from the front pocket of his business shirt. That and the dark, crisply pleated slacks screamed “yuppie with aspirations.”
      Three months after Robbie Westbrook’s death, local and national newsies were still clamoring to get an exclusive with the grieving girlfriend who watched him die. A brilliant comedian on the brink of stardom overdoses on cocaine after a Machiavellian manipulation: The major networks were salivating all over the made-for-TV tragedy. Bobbi’s physical beauty and talent—and her stubborn and persistent evasion—intrigued them all the more.
      “We should have waited for a damn booth,” Bobbi grumbled, fussing with her menu. “Let’s just leave.”
     “I’ve got a better idea,” Sherl said, rising from her chair. “Hey, Dan Rather wannabe!”
     Her loud proclamation drew the attention of every patron in the bustling restaurant. The young blond fidgeted and blushed.
     “Yeah, you. We totally saw you follow us through, like, the entire Loop. She’s not doing interviews, so why don’t you just order your burger to go and break in those pleather shoes somewhere else, douchebag?”
     Bobbi lowered her head to the table and laughed until she snorted.
     The young man rose from his chair, embarrassed, and slid a business card in front of the snickering Bobbi before turning to walk out.
     “In case you change your mind …”
     “If she changes her mind, she’ll call Barbara freakin’ Walters,” Sherl shot back. “Loser!”
     She took a quick, playful bow—a gesture several customers answered with applause—then plopped back into her seat, more than a little satisfied with herself. Bobbi shook with barely stifled laughter; her cheeks blazed a bright red and her eyes watered profusely.
     “Okay, that was worth the aggravation ..."

Order Bobbi's Canon: Round 1 for Kindle, Nook, Google and Apple devices, and on paperback.

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My Many, Many Mugs

1/23/2015

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PictureEnzo selects his souvenir mug at Alewine Pottery.
I don't need a lot of dishes. It's just Enzo and me in this house, and if we wash dishes once in a while, we don't require many items. But, man, I love my mugs.

I'm not talking the free promotional ones--the plain white, straight-up-and-down, 12-oz. standard coffee mugs emblazoned with a company logo or some crass expression. I'm into seriously well-crafted mugware. Ones you take home from an artisan or specialty shop from that vacation-to-end-all vacations. I have a cabinet full of them. They take me to different places, mentally, where I can be more free and creative.

There are several from Alewine Pottery in Gatlinburg. They're handcrafted and substantial, and coffee tastes so much better sipped out of them. One, from my first trip to Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge with Enzo, reminds me of our lunch in the quaint little cafe next to the pottery shop and the little antique stores we tucked into to indulge my shopping quest. Another two were from our recent joint mini-vacation to Townsend, Tennessee, with two good friends. When I drink from it, I can't help thinking about the talented singer/guitarist, Rod, who entertained at the Back Porch restaurant during our first dinner together in town. I aim to return there sometime soon and talk shop with that guy.

Today I relived a idyllic stay in Hot Springs, North Carolina, a few years back as I enjoyed my coffee from my totally touristy little red mug. It's short and squat and one of my personal favorites. And, yes, I even have a few of the standard promotional mugs: one from a former employer, another with a photo from a company Christmas party, a logo mug from my college alma mater and another I won at a memorable visit to the Bissel Mansion with my family.

They all have a place, and each has a story--I'm all about stories. I'll continue to overfill my kitchen with more drinkware than any one person should have. But the memories, those I need.

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Officially Frustrated with Official Press Release Surprises

1/22/2015

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I thought I had a pretty good grip on the whole press release thing ... but I tend to write them, not necessarily upload them.

In my work with Outskirts Press, I pen a lot of PRs over the course of each month. I know about incorporating keywords. I know from a former editor's perspective what might catch attention in a newsroom. I'm familiar with standard formatting and acceptable word counts. What I didn't fully realize was how difficult some of these PR firms can make the process!

You see, they don't tell you upfront when/if they require an official "business email account," meaning NOT one with gmail or yahoo in it. (My own business email is a Gmail account.) This is a little nugget they save for after you've registered, entered your contact info and uploaded, edited and previewed your press release. Then boom! "So sorry, but Gmail isn't, like, a 'real' email address. PR rejected."

Still, I managed to get my press release about Bobbi's Canon out there. I personally emailed it to more than 150 local and regional news contacts, and did manage to get it posted to three or four free PR services. So, nanner-nanner to those of you who reject my Gmail!


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