Reboot

So here's the deal. I'm rebooting the Grym Brothers.

This:

Is now this:

I know this might seem a little crazy, but bear with me for a moment.

Spooktakular Sale!

So, until Halloween these two books are going to only be $0.99. They're great Halloween reads and the start of two excellent series. Grab a copy of each and tell all of your friends!

Grab Your Kindle Copy Now!
or if you're in the UK
You Can Get It Here

Grab Your Kindle Copy Now!

or if you're in the UK
You Can Get It Here

Good News

Wow.

So, towards the end of June my wife and I were reviewing our finances and it looked like I was going to have to get a job outside the home. We’d been living off of her salary for the last two years while I worked on my creative endeavors and we had gone just about as long as we could without me having a “real” job. We were bummed out, to say the least. My wife and I really enjoying spending time together. She’s never been upset or resentful of the fact that she was the only one pulling in a regular paycheck for the last two years. As far as she was concerned all that meant was she got to spend every day with me(Her job allows her to work from home). And I certainly pulled my weight around the house. I helped with the cooking, cleaning and errands. I mean, I wasn’t a total bum. The thought of having to spend eight hours or more everyday apart from each other, after the last two years, was just very depressing.

So we did what we’ve done everyday since the day we got married and prayed that my books would take off. We sold, on average, about 50-100 books a month. But the bulk of those books were priced at $0.99, of which we only kept $0.35 as profit. You can do the math.

My brother-in-law is fond of the saying, “Go big or go home.” Well, I’ve amended to “Pray big or go home.” I mean, what have you got to lose? So we prayed pretty big. We were looking for 15,000 to 50,000 sales a month and that’s what we were praying for.

In June we did experiment with making some of our books free and that did give us a boost in sales. Unfortunately, with all of those free books out there we got hit with a lot of negative reviews, which didn’t do much to help our mood.

So I started applying for work and we kept praying. 15,000-50,000 sales.

In July I started raising some of our prices to take advantage of a higher royalty rate. At $2.99 we would make $2 off of every book sold. Our sales continued to be kind of “meh.”

Nobody was calling me back on any of my applications. I think out of twenty-some applications I got two interviews. So we got a little more depressed. Not only did we not want me to have to get an outside job, but nobody even wanted to hire me!

Then at the end of July I added up our numbers. We ended up selling 713 books for the month. That was huge for us. Yes, it was a far cry from 15,000 or 50,000, but it was a lot better than 50. Plus, enough of those 713 books were being sold at $2.99 that we actually made some decent money for the month. Topped off with the nice, healthy bonus my wife got from her job, we were looking at a month reprieve of me having to find a job. Despite the negative reviews some of my books were getting, we were starting to feel a little better.

So we kept praying. 15,000-50,000 monthly sales, that’s what we were praying for day in and day out.

The month of August came and went and still no one wanted to hire me.

On August 31, 2011, I tallied up our numbers for the month. Turns out we sold a little over 1,300 books for the month of August 2011.

1,300 books.

Again, a far cry from 15,000 or 50,000, but two months ago I was only selling 50 books a month.

You could ask me what was different about August from any other month and I’d just shrug. You might able to point to the freebies we offered or a few keywords we added in our listings and say that was the reason our sales picked up. But I can tell you I have put very little effort into my marketing my books. Not because I’m lazy, but because I don’t know how. Marketing and selling are skill sets I just don’t have. As far as my wife and I are concerned, the only reason we sell any books at all is because of God. I’ve put my marketing and promotional planning in His hands and it’s working out.

Not only are these 1,300 book sales going to help us pay off one of our last major debts but it’s also going to help pay for organizing a blog tour later this year. The blog tour will help raise my Internet presence and help people become more aware of my books.

But even more importantly, those 1,300 book sales have allowed me to stay home with my wife. I don’t have to go looking for a job outside our home.

It may not be the 15,000 or 50,000 we were praying for, but it was exactly what we needed.

God answered our prayers and, honestly, that was the “Wow” part. You know He’s listening, but it’s nice to know He’s listening.

So, to celebrate our success I’ve released a new book! The third Grym Brothers book is now available on the Kindle and Nook! If you’ve enjoyed the first two Grym books, you’ll love this one. Thanks for supporting us!

Book 3 - NOW AVAILABLE

Kindle US
Kindle UK

Nook

They say dead men tell no tales, but that’s just because they’ve never worked as a Grim Reaper.

Grim Reapers are real. They are governed by the Council of Reapers. Reapers are responsible for the capture and containment of dead souls that refuse to or cannot move on to the afterlife.

Lori Standford’s mother died six months ago. Now she’s back, haunting Lori out of her home. Lori turns to her close friend, Emma Grym, mother of Thane and Mort Grym, for help.

Now Thane and Mort find themselves embroiled in a mystery of dead men that stretches all the way to the top.

New Book

So, yeah, ignore that word counter off to the side because THE DEAD COUPLE is officially available!

Jack and Cindy were a happily married couple. She was an elementary school teacher. He was an aspiring children’s book author. They had the perfect life together, until the day they decided to kill themselves.

Suicides, by their very nature, tend to head directly into the afterlife.

Jack and Cindy’s souls never arrived.

Grim Reapers are real. They are governed by the Council of Reapers. Reapers are responsible for the capture and containment of dead souls that refuse to or cannot move on to the afterlife.

Thane and Mort Grym are two such reapers.

It's only $0.99 and you can get it at:

Kindle

Smashwords

Nook links coming later in the week.

Isn't this exciting? Three books in two months. I think it's safe to say that I am officially on a roll.

Two and a Half Dead Men - Chapter One

one

“What the hell?” the guy on the floor says, appropriately freaking out.

“I’m Thane,” the shorter man with the lighter, closely cropped hair says. He points to the guy standing next to him. “This is my brother Mort. Our last name is Grym. It’s funny, you won’t get it right away, but you will in a minute.”

“And you’re dead,” Mort points to the man on the floor impatiently.

Thane shakes his head. “Geez, Mort.”

Mort’s the younger of the two. He stands about two inches taller. He keeps his dark hair long and unruly, slicked back with oil and grease. He’s dressed in a pair of ratty jeans and a stained t-shirt. The brown overcoat that looks like it had been to Hell and back originally belonged to their father, with whom he shares the same dark brown eyes.

“What?” He holds up his wrist to show Thane the watch. “Do you see what time it is?”

Thane looks at the face of the watch and then at Mort. “Yeah. It’s a quarter past three.”

Mort’s face scrunches up. He checks the watch himself, tapping the faceplate with his other hand. He looks out the window as though to confirm it. It’s dark out and the moon is starting to rise.

“That’s not right,” he says.

“I know,” Thane replies. He stands straight, compared to his brother’s slouched posture. His clothes are clean and his jacket is stain free. He’s got his mother’s light blue eyes. “That watch hasn’t been able to tell the correct time ever since you got it.”

“It was Dad’s watch,” he says, like that was supposed to kill the argument.

“Which explains why he was always late.”

“Whatever,” he runs a hand through his dirty hair. “There’s a fight on in an hour. I don’t know want to miss it.”

“Of course,” Thane mutters.

“What?” Mort asks.

“Nothing,” Thane says aloud.

“Excuse me, but what the hell?” the guy on the floor asks again.

The brothers give the man on the floor their attention.

“You’re dead,” Mort repeats. “D-E-A-D,” and he tears off a bite from his foot long sandwich he had insisted on bringing up with him.

“Are you threatening me?” the guy on the floor asks.

“We’re not threatening you,” Thane says, trying to calm him down. “Do you have to eat that right now,” he asks Mort, pulling out the crumpled paperwork from his jacket pocket. “It doesn’t lend itself to a professional image.”

“Yes, Thane, I have to eat it right now,” he says between bites. “You never want to stop for dinner.”

“We eat when we’re not working,” Thane crouches down next to the guy on the floor. “Hi,” he says to him.

“Easy for you to say,” Mort says. “You weren’t blessed with Mom’s low blood sugar. Do you know when my last meal was?”

“No.”

“Neither do I,” Mort says. “That’s how much I had to drink last night. So forgive me for trying not to die of starvation.”

Thane rolls his eyes and checks the name on the paperwork. “Paulie?” he says to the man on the floor. “That’s your name, right? Paulie?”

The man’s eyes twitch back and forth between the two brothers. He’s confused and probably more than a little freaked out. His face glistens with sweat.

Mort sneezes and Paulie jumps a little.

Thane gently smacks Paulie’s cheek. “Hey, Paulie, I need you to focus.”

He looks back at Thane but his eyes are still glazed over.

“Your name’s Paulie, right?” Thane tries one more time. He likes to be sure.

He blinks, shaking his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I think,” he trails off. “What happened? I’m dead?”

“Yeah. You got yourself shot at point blank range with a double barrel shotgun,” Mort chimes in helpfully.

“Boom. Instant death,” he pretends his sandwich is a gun and mimes shooting with it

“For crying out loud,” Thane mutters again. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I mind,” Mort says. “There’s a fight on in an hour. I don’t want to miss it. I promise to coddle the next one.”

“You’ll be lucky if I bring you along on the next one,” he says under his breath.

“What?”

“Just stand there,” Thane says aloud. “Just stand there and eat your stupid sandwich.”

“Gladly.”

The older brother shakes his head and turns back to Paulie “Do you remember what happened?”

Paulie’s face scrunches up. He’s clearly thinking real hard, but it’s not something he’s used to. His face almost looks like it’s mimicking someone else.

“I, uh,” he stutters and trails off.

“It’s okay,” Thane says. “Most people who suffer this kind of trauma tend to have temporary amnesia.”

“You’re saying I’m dead?” he asks again.

“Buddy,” Mort cuts in again, “you’ve got your legs violently separated from the rest of your body. I can see parts of your entrails on the fireplace. It is not possible for you to get anydeader.”

Paulie’s eyes go wide and suddenly he seems to be aware of his surroundings.

It’s a middle-class suburban home, about six blocks from the A-Line. They’re in the living room and it’s in shambles. There was a fight with a clear winner and loser. And, sure enough, Paulie’s upper half is separated from his lower half.

And his entrails were definitely on the fireplace.

“What the-” Paulie broke down into a stream of obscenities as he twisted his neck around, trying to take it all in at once.

Thane lets him go on for a few seconds before clamping his hand down over Paulie’s mouth. He immediately regrets it. It’s like touching a thousand tiny ants all moving around together at the same time. He hates touching dead people.

Thane looks back at his brother. “Thank you.”

He tosses Thane the cuffs. “No problem. Can we please get going now?”

Thane catches the cuffs with his other hand. Paulie eyes them and they’re not making him any calmer.

Thane keeps his hand securely over his mouth. The tiny invisible ants squirm around, like they’re trying to burrow themselves into Thane’s hand.

“Okay, this isn’t what it looks like,” Thane tries one more time. “We aren’t who you think we are. And these,” he shakes the cuffs, “aren’t normal handcuffs,” he twists them around so Paulie could see his name, PAULIE, etched into the metal. “I would like to explain everything to you in a calm manner, but I can’t do that if you’re going to freak out and swear like a some diseased ridden prostitute that just got gypped out of her share by her pimp. So, do you promise to calm down?”

Paulie hesitates a moment but nods his head.

“Good, I’m going to remove my hand now,” Thane pulls his hand back and immediately feels better. He fights the urge to wipe it against his pants. Paulie keeps silent. “So, here’s what happened, Paulie. This place belongs to Steven Waldo. Mr. Waldo walked in on you trying to steal his priceless collection of porcelain Indian clowns. He subsequently shot you in self-defense.”

Paulie’s brow furrows. “I was stealing from this guy?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He thinks about it. “I don’t carry a gun? I don’t carry a gun,” he repeats it more definitively.

Thane checks the paperwork again. “No, you didn’t have any weapons on you.”

“Then how the hell does that count as self-defense?” he snaps.

“Dude,” Mort says, “totally raw deal. But you did try to steal from the guy.”

“He blew off my damn legs with a double barrel shotgun!” Paulie shrieks.

“I think it’s coming back to him,” Mort looks at his brother.

“Look, Paulie,” Thane starts, but Paulie has other ideas.

He starts shrieking and flopping around on the floor like a half eaten merman. One of his hands smacks Thane’s face.

Thane looks at Mort. He shrugs. “Not my fault. You’re the one that wanted to talk to him.”

Mort steps forward and sets a foot on Paulie’s chest, holding him in place. That stops him from bucking around, but he’s still shrieking. Thane clamps his hand back down over his mouth.

“Look, Paulie, we’re not unsympathetic to your plight,” Thane starts.

“I am,” Mort interrupts. “I have a fight I don’t want to miss.”

“As I was saying,” Thane resumes, “Your death was particularly traumatic and incapacitating. Even though you have no real physical body to speak of, subconsciously you’ve amended your soul body to match your physical body. Which means you have no legs to carry you to the afterlife. And that’s why we’re here,” Thane pulls out the dull brass badge from his pocket. “We’re dead soul collectors. Grim reapers for souls who can’t or won’t find their way to the afterlife. We’re here to escort you to the afterlife, but before we do that, I just want to give you the opportunity to share with us any good-byes you wanted to make or see if there are any unresolved issues that we could help you with before we send you on your way.”

“He keeps saying ‘we’,” Mort says with a full mouth, “But it’s all him. I have a fight to catch.”

Paulie seems to have calmed down again so Thane removes his hand.

“Unresolved issues?” he says. “I’ll give you unresolved issues. I’m dead over some stupid Indian clowns!” he shouts and his face turns bright red.

“Okay then,” Thane says. “Right to the afterlife.”

And then he slaps the cuffs on him.

Read the rest:

On your Kindle

On your Nook

Only $0.99!

New Book

Hey, what's the point of having a word counter if I'm never going to update it?

The new Grym Brothers book is completed! THE DEAD COUPLE will be out early June or, if you're really lucky, late May.

Here's a sneak peek at the final cover:

Hmm, maybe I should have written a book description to go with the cover sneak peek. There's a thought....