Well, tomorrow’s the big day, when my novel "Applewood" officially goes on sale.
But I’m delighted to see that “Applewood” pages have been built over the last few days on most of the major bookselling sites, and is currently available for purchase in both Kindle and paperback versions from Amazon, as well as at Barnes and Noble.Com and (for some reason) Borders.Com in Australia, which is kind of cool.
Those close to me, family and friends, many of whom were beta readers and who offered lots of comments and suggestions along the way, as well as more than necessary encouragement, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You know who you are.
It’s been more than six years since I wrote it. Spent a year or two sending it around. It even sat for two years within Dorchester Publishing before they sent a rejection. I put it down in discouragement.
A year later, I sent it around again, and a small publisher in Massachusetts who specialized in vampire novels, By Light Unseen Media, showed an interest. It was another nine months or so after that until I finally received kind words about it from them, and more than that, they wanted to publish it. That took another year or so. Since that time, it’s gone through a series of careful edits and surgical excisions.
Thanks again to Inanna Arthen, By Light Unseen Media’s owner and publisher, for both showing an interest and for working tirelessly editing the book and creating the finished product. If we don’t sell a single copy, you’ll still never know how much it means.
Thanks to my friend Tommy, who invited me along every summer up to his family’s house in Maine that had been in his family for generations, providing a lifetime of happy memories.
Thanks to Jimmy, who wasn't really a friend of mine, but who got me arrested once, and who used to take three friggin’ days to get a haircut. Both those life experiences came into play. You weren't a bad kid.
Thanks to my older brother, who when I was twelve let me drag him to an all night Beatle movie marathon, but more importantly, took me to see "Carrie" one Halloween long ago at the movie theater downtown.
Thanks to the town of Stoughton, whose junior high was even more hellish than Grantham's, but had I described it the way it really was, no one would believe me.
Thanks to Mr. Madden, who wouldn’t let you on the bus if you didn’t have a ticket, even if you’d been riding the damn thing for six frigging years.
And thanks to Paul, my trusted lieutenant, fellow altar boy, and the best damn paperboy who ever lived. Without Paul (and his brother Jimmy, who took after him) there would be no Dugan.
Thanks to lots of other folks who I’ll mention in the future at random moments when they occur.
The sequel is written.
The third in the series has begun.