Palmer by M. Sembera *Release Day Blitz & Giveaway*

Palmer by M. Sembera

Release Date: April 6, 2017

I've known her my whole life. Okay, not really, I was three when she was born but who remembers being that young? Joie's like my little sister, at least, that's how I've treated her. She needed someone to look out for her. Her family's a mess. It doesn't seem to bother her but it bothers me. Just like when her first boyfriend broke up with her because she wouldn't put out. Joie didn't care but I did. That punk still runs the other way when he sees me. Most of my high school career was spent keeping her away from knuckleheads who only wanted to have fun with her, boys that thought she was hot because she was good on drums, and pretty much any guy that looked her way. She was too good for them, still is. She's too good for me; I know this. Here's the thing though, I want her. I can't stop thinking about her. And what makes it worse is I know she wants me. It would be easy. I don't exactly have a history of being the good boyfriend or any kind of boyfriend. I'm not into that. Easy come, easy go. But this is Joie and that makes things complicated. I don't do complicated. Easy is my thing, always has been. There's only so much a man can take though. Each day, I can feel my self-control slipping. One more accidental touch and I'm gonna break. One more goofy smile and I won't be able to hold back any more. One more drum beat and I'm done.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34401371-palmer

I  could never resist picking her up, even before I wanted to get down with her. I’m not sure what is was about it that I liked so much, maybe because it was the only thing she ever let me do for her. And I liked the way her arms hung around my neck when I carried her, that always gave me a good feeling too.

I grabbed her purse and swung it over my shoulder. Scooping her up in my arms, I carried her through the shop. When we made it out of the door, I moved one of my arms from around her and reached into my pocket to grab the keys. She shifted in my arms slightly but it was enough to make me lose my center of gravity as I locked the door.

 Bumping us both into the glass door, I teased, “Must be all them damn cookies.”

 “Gah, you’re an asshole,” she fussed and began squirming in my arms.

 “What? You ate like forty of ‘em.”

I set her on her feet by the passenger door when we reached my car.

 She immediately snapped at me, “Are you calling me fat?”

Ah, hell…

 “No, ma’am, just giving you a hard time.”

 “Do you think I’m too heavy?”

 “Not even a little bit,” I swore, now wondering why I always had to open my smartass mouth.

 “What if I was?”

I get that she was maybe a smidge sensitive since she had put on a little weight since the summer. Like I or any man in his right mind gave a damn about that. Sexy ain’t a size. Beauty is beauty, ya know.

 “Okay crazy, can Joie come back out to play?”

 Stomping her foot, she insisted, “Answer me.”

 Pretending to take the matter seriously, I asked, “How big are we talkin’ here?”

 “Five hundred.”

 “Pounds?”

With a curt nod, she crossed her arms against her chest.

 “I’d start workin’ out so I could still carry you.”

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Palmer by M. Sembera COVER REVEAL & GIVEAWAY

Palmer

A 2nd Generation Marked Heart Novel

New Adult

Release Date:4/6/2017

Standalone series

I've known her my whole life. Okay, not really, I was three when she was born, but who remembers being that young? Joie's like my little sister, at least, that's how I've treated her. She needed someone to look out for her. Her family's a mess. It doesn't seem to bother her but it bothers me. Just like when her first boyfriend broke up with her because she wouldn't put out. Joie didn't care, but I did. That punk still runs the other way when he sees me. Most of my high school career was spent keeping her away from knuckle heads who only wanted to have fun with her, boys that thought she was hot because she was good on drums, and pretty much any guy that looked her way. She was too good for them, still is. She's too good for me, I know this. Here's the thing though I want her. I can't stop thinking about her. And what makes it worse is I know she wants me. It would be easy. I don't exactly have a history of being the good boyfriend or any kind of boyfriend. I'm not into that. Easy come, easy go. But this is Joie and that makes things complicated. I don't do complicated. Easy is my thing, always has been. There's only so much a man can take though. Each day, I can feel self-control slipping. One more accidental touch and I'm gonna break. One more goofy smile and I won't be able to hold back any more. One more drum beat and I'm done.

http://amzn.to/2npMGFV

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34401371-palmer

Folding my arms across my chest, I leaned back in my chair. I could feel myself starting to scowl as I watched her. I'd began to notice little things about her lately, like the way her bottom lip poked out slightly further than her top one when she was upset. Seeing that soft little pout of hers made me just want to bite it. Not hard, just a nibble, ya know, to see what she tastes like. I wouldn't. I'm too controlled for that but that doesn't mean I hadn't thought about it. How could I not? Joie's sexy as hell, no she's beyond sexy, like beautiful sexy, inside and out. It makes sense that at some point I'd find her attractive but my attraction to her was getting out of hand. It was irrational. She was both elbows on the table, crumbs everywhere, intent on eating her weight in butter pecan cookies like it was her damn job and I was so stiff a damn hiccup could have set me off. How in the hell was this turning me on?

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Book Babies

Recently, I read a post that stated readers are beginning to shy away from authors who refer to a book as their baby. While I understand the point that was being made, my books will always be my babies. I can’t help it. I love them. I’ve loved them from the beginning. Since that first moment a character appeared from out of nowhere in my head and said, ‘Pst… I’m not going to leave you alone until you put me down on paper.’

The point that was being made, in the post I mentioned, was that some authors are so overprotective of their book baby, that a reader is no longer willing to risk the read. One wrong comment in a review, or a missing star or two and all hell breaks loose, because how dare they insult such a precious angel. But, that’s when I say, it’s all in the parenting.

In my opinion, the written word is birthed from an author’s imagination no easier than a child is from its mother. Let me take a moment to explain. I have three children, and while I have yet to experience a physical pain that could stand up to the horrors of squeezing another human being out of my body, the emotions are similar. 'Can I really do this?’ 'What if I’m not good enough?’ 'Oh dear God, I have no idea what I’m doing.’ 'I’m going to screw this up so bad.’ Granted, that could just be me, but you get the idea.

After all the questions, fears and struggles of guiding and forming characters, while allowing them to be themselves, you then expose your book baby to others, giving it small doses of freedom.

Beta readers are the forever friends that a book grows up with, not always agreeing, but with its best interest at heart. A book’s editor is the favorite teacher, correcting and instructing with love in hopes that one day it will be great. Proofers are the close friends that always have your back. You know the ones that tell you you have something stuck in between your teeth or toilet paper hanging from you shoe, when everyone else just points and laughs. As graduation day rapidly approaches, because somehow it all just happened so fast, the book’s cover is the gown that was so intricately put together by its cover artist, in order for it to put its best foot forward as it steps out to face the world ahead.

It is now time for the author to let go…

Of course, graduation day is also release day so you brag on your book baby. You invite your friends the bloggers, their friends, and their friend’s friends. In fact, at this point you’re so proud, you’re stopping strangers on the street and asking them if they want to celebrate.

Then, the high of accomplishment starts to wear off. Fear and anxiety loom over what’s to come. Now that your book baby is all grown up, it will have some acquaintances. Readers that nod and smile without an opinion either way. Some will dislike the book and it’s hard not to question why. Why don’t you like my baby? Truth is, your baby just might have a flaw or two. You’re going to want to correct those as any good parent would. I’m a firm believer that every book has its own unique personality. Sometimes it’s as simple as a personality clash between a book and its reader. And there are times where someone is just being a troll. There is no way of knowing if they actually read your baby or not. For some reason they are miserable human beings and thrive on the unhappiness of others. In this case, even though you’d like to, do not be the book parent hiding behind the playground slide waiting to jack up the jerk that’s messing with your baby. Hold your head up and take the high road. Because, there is nothing worse than seeing an author lose their cookies over a review that isn’t going to make or break their career, unless they let it.

There will also be those that take the book into their hearts, the ones that see all that it was meant to be, and cherish every word.

Books are more than words on a page. From the author who created it, to the betas that befriended it, the editors that guide, proofers that polish, cover artists who dress it, all the way to the readers who love it. The written word is alive. A living thing that is nurtured, cared for, and loved from the beginning.

That being said, unlike a human being books do not have free will, so it is truly all in the upbringing.

Every book started out as someone’s baby. As Authors, it is our responsibility to raise them right, and when the time comes, let them go. Allow it to stand on its own two feet.

Let’s face it, no one really wants to be the crazy overbearing in-law that doesn’t allow a book baby to grow up and have a life of its own, hindering the chances of it living up to its full potential.

(#repost from M's original tumbler post 9/25/15)