Why Foreword Literary? Why now?

Good afternoon! A lot has been going on and the message below from my agent will explain part of it.

Before I became a literary agent in 2005, I had previously spent 25 years in high tech marketing working with clients such as Apple Computer, Adobe Systems, Intuit, Hotmail and hundreds of other companies. It was a heady time in our culture with technological advances occurring at the speed of light. It also proved to me that technology can transform an industry, big or small, creating chaos, opportunity and excitement in its wake.

This was an important consideration for the formation of Foreword Literary, Inc.

I thought I’d left the crazy pace of the tech realm behind me for a more sedentary life in the slow-moving world of publishing. In fact, the agonizing pace of 18-24 months from contract to bookshelf was the most difficult part of the job for me. Then Smashwords, and Amazon’s Kindle eReader and KDP self-publishing service, debuted in 2008, and my dormant virtual tech-antennae sprang out of my head. I knew that publishing would never be the same again.

I spent thousands of hours over the years studying these new technologies. I could not prepare a conference presentation on this subject more than a day in advance because change was happening at such a rapid pace. It was (and still is) exciting. My passion was engaged. I started incorporating eBooks and self-publishing and new technologies into all my clients’ writing career plans.

And in the back of my mind I kept envisioning how a literary agency could emerge from this chaotic transition to embrace this change and use it to a writer’s best advantage.

It was very difficult to leave behind an agency with the longevity (40 years) and heart of Larsen Pomada Literary Agents. But I needed to blaze a previously undiscovered path if I was to build something entirely new.

I also knew that I needed amazing partners to make this company work. Pam van Hylckama Vlieg started off as my assistant and within 3 months it was crystal clear to me that she was destined to become a super literary agent. She became an agent after 3 months of rigorous training and in her first year sold 21 books. This is astounding success. And her love of technology and social media marketing rivals my own…perhaps even surpasses it! So Pam was the first person I approached once I’d made the decision to leave Larsen Pomada. Thankfully she saw the potential of my vision, and amped it up several megawatts with her own creative ideas. Pam is pure awesome. On steroids!

Gordon Warnock and I have known each other for 5 years. I am always encouraged by his thoughtful consideration, wonderful eye for nonfiction, droll sense of humor and the solid name he’s created for himself in the publishing industry in such a short time. Plus he is a culinary explorer par excellence. And that is an understatement. When I heard that Gordon might be looking to start the next chapter of his professional life, the timing was perfect, and we had to have him on board.

Together we are a triumvirate ready to take on the world. I can’t even imagine what we can accomplish together with our intelligence, experience and energy.

So what is Foreword Literary? We are a brand new type of author representative. Sure, we’ll sell books to publishers and sell subsidiary rights to movie studios, foreign publishers, magazines, audiobook companies, etc. But we’ll also work with a network of affiliates such as self-publishers, cover designers, app creators, web series developers, comic book producers, social media marketers, publicity experts, teachers, game designers, speaker bureaus, and many, many others to offer our clients a fully-fleshed world of possibilities for their creativity.

We would be lying if we said we know everything. We’re learning new technology, new procedures, new ways of doing business every single day. And that’s what keeps this fresh and exciting for us. Foreword Literary, as the name implies, is an endorsement of our talented clients and the direction in which our industry is moving. We applaud the pioneers who are revolutionizing publishing. Gutenberg would be proud. So would Steve Jobs.

Foreword is moving publishing Forward. Watch. This. Space.

Fluff and Puff on the Naughty List

“You’re on the Naughty List!”

“No, you’re on the Naughty List!”

Red, gold and dark green sparks of magick flew through the air as the bunny slippers faced off.

“Santa wrote Fluff on the naughty list,” Puff insisted, glaring at his brother slipper.

“The name there is Puff,” Fluff countered, shooting another a red spear of power at him. The slipper deftly avoided the weapon.

“Hey! What in Hades is going on here?” A wide-eyed Jazz stared the disaster zone once known as her bedroom.

Her black and white print comforter hung from the ceiling while red and black throw pillows floated around the room. Perfume bottles drifted around like scented ornaments. She quickly ducked just in time as a shot of magick almost created a new part in her hair.

“Stop it now!” She threw out her hands and froze the slippers in place. Their eyes rolled and tiny growls left their mouths as they glared at her. “If you promise to behave and clean up this mess I will release you. And then I want to know why you two are acting like this. Blink one for yes, you’ll behave.” After the receiving the signal. She reversed her spell. “Now, why are you fighting?”

“Fluff is on the Naughty List and he claims it’s me,” Puff shouted, bouncing up and down.

“It’s Puff who’s on the Naughty List!”

“So why the battle?”

Fluff tipped his ear toward Jazz and a long scroll unrolled in front of her.

Her lips parted in shock. “You stole Santa’s Naughty List? It’s Christmas Eve! Santa needs this list tonight.”

“And he’s on it.” They pointed at each other.

“But it doesn’t say exactly which one of us is on it,” Puff explained. “Look under the Us.”

Jazz scanned the List and soon saw why the problem. “Uff,” she said.

“For Puff.”

“For Fluff!”

They glared at each other and started revving up some magick until Jazz pointed a warning finger at each.
“You know what? I don’t have time for this. Nick, Krebs, and Letitia and I are going to a party tonight.” She headed for her closet and pulled out a red sparkly dress. “I want this mess cleaned up by the time I get out of the shower. And the two of you make up. Personally, I wouldn’t put either of you on the Nice List. And I’m sure Santa would agree with me.” After pulling lingerie out of drawers she sailed into the bathroom. “And clean up my room!”

“Like she cleans it up,” Puff muttered, zapping the floating pillows while Fluff worked on bringing the comforter back to the bed. The perfume bottles returned to their upright position on the dresser. “As if there’s someone out there named Uff.”

Fluff’s dark eyes lit up and he spun around. “There’s one way to find out for sure,” he said slowly.

Puff stared at his partner in magickal crime and smiled.

“Yeah.”

This time, they linked their ears and willed their power to a new high.

“Santa, come to us. Come to us now. Santa, bring our presents and bring them swift. Prove we’re on the Nice List,” they chanted. “And give it to us now right away!”

The temperature in the room dropped a good sixty degrees as snow fell on them in thick drifts.
“Whoa, something went wrong!” Fluff’s fangs chattered from the ice cold.

“The sound of sleigh bells rang loud in their ears and they ducked as something large swooped over their heads.

“Why have you called me here? This is my busiest night of the year.” The large man dressed in red trimmed with white fur climbed out of his sleigh and loomed over the bunny slippers. He spied the scroll lying nearby. “So that’s where it went.” He snapped his fingers, The scroll instantly appeared between his gloved fingertips and he tucked it away. Then he turned his gaze on the slippers. “Why did you steal my Naughty List?”

“To see which one of us was on it,” the slippers said in unison.

His belly jiggled as he laughed. “Silly bunny slippers. You have your very own list.” He snapped his fingers again and a scroll unrolled until it almost filled the room. “Master Uff only had a few transgressions to rate being on the Naughty List. The two of you surpassed that.” He frowned at them.

“Soooo, no gifts?” Fluff asked, trying unsuccessfully to wrap his ears around his shivering body.

“No sled? ATV? Race car?” Puff added hopefully.

“Only what you deserve.” Santa hopped into his sleigh and took off in a wink of red and gold lights.

A holiday dressed Jazz walked out of the bathroom in a cloud of her favorite perfume. “Now you better have cleaned everythi—“ She stopped short, stared at the chaos that used to be her room and shook her head. She took several deep breaths but the rolling thunder overhead warned everyone her temper was rapidly fraying. She returned to the bathroom and came back out holding two scrub brushes and a bottle of cleaner. “Get to it.” She navigated the room on red high heels and closed the door behind her.

Fluff zapped his cleaning brush at his brother. “You just had to steal the List and get us in even more trouble, didn’t you?”

“Me? It was you!” Both brushes flew at Puff. They bounced off the mountain of coal, sending black dust everywhere that created a nasty black paste thanks to the snow Santa left behind.

PS: It took a lot of Jazz’s magick to get the room back to what it was and as for the slippers, they weren’t off the Naughty List for a Very Long Time.

So whether you’re on the Nice List or Naughty List, have a wonderful holiday

Tis The Season!

It’s natural that Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. And Christmas is right up there.

Let’s see. With one, you can get lots of candy. The other you can get lots of candy, cookies, and presents. But that’s not why I love the two holidays. Well, maybe a little bit.

I love the colors and the energy that comes with it. There is nothing more enjoyable than driving around at night and seeing all the decorations. I remember growing up where the house of an aerospace engineer always had incredible decorations. Santa in a rocket ship one year including motion and sound effects was one of my favorites.
No wonder I was so happy when I was asked to write a Christmas theme book for Harlequin American Romance. I was asked to do that for three years and I have the rights back to two of those books, which are out right now.

Twas the Night was originally titled He’s A Rebel and is my flat out fun book. A government agent wants to quit the agency in order to take care of her orphaned niece and nephew is now on the run because her boss refuses to accept her resignation. Plus we have a true crime writer who’s decided to hole up in a Lake Tahoe cabin he owns jointly with his best friends. He doesn’t care it’s Christmastime. Ukiah ‘Ki’ Jones has a book about an infamous serial killer to write and the cabin is his idea of solitude. Too bad that’s not going to happen with Sydney Taylor and her two young charges and two dogs barging into his solitude. A man who’s determined to never marry and a formerly footless and fancy free woman who doesn’t see marriage in her future either. Used to a life on the edge and roaming the world on dangerous assignments she’s determined to give her niece and nephew the home life they deserve. But as we all know love barges in where we don’t expect it and that’s what happens here. Plus, with children, can Christmas really be ignored?

Mistletoe Magic originally titled No Room at the Inn is my holiday Brigadoon. I thought of the idea of a Christmas village in Vermont that’s only visible during the month of December and disappears every Christmas night at midnight. A village only reveals itself to those who truly need that magic of the holidays. Quinn and Santee, who was first introduced in Sometimes A Lady, meet on a blizzard covered road and find sanctuary in a small village that they think celebrate Christmas 365 days a year. Quinn is an advertising executive who needs to decide if the man who proposed to her is the man she wants to be with for the rest of her life and for some unknown reason deputy sheriff Santee felt the need to travel from California to Vermont. Attraction is immediate and along the way Quinn also is able to confront a piece of her past and help a woman and her granddaughter not end up the way she did.

In romances, falling in love is expected. And when you can add a holiday to it it’s even more special.

Twas the Night and Mistletoe Magic are available at Amazon and Smashwords and soon available for Nook, Apple, Sony, and Kobo.

I hope you’ll try my holiday romances and find yourself transported to something unique.

And then you can share the Christmas spirit.

A Happy Holiday to you all!

Linda

Awesome Halloween Contest Is Here!

It's that time of year again!

I’m part of Sam Cheever’s awesome Halloween contest that runs from October 15 to the 31st.

Do you want to know all about the chance at winning some fantastic prizes?

Go visit Sam’s page! http://www.samcheever.com/Halloween_Contest_2012.html

Linda

Mom, I Haz An Owie

Our Katie was spayed yesterday.

Poor baby isn’t happy and who can blame her?

We dropped her off at the clinic yesterday morning and picked her up in the late afternoon. She was groggy, wearing her cone, and very happy to see Mom and Dad.

It’s been fifteen years since we’ve gone through this and amazing what the mind forgets!

Or maybe it’s because Katie’s older since she’s about eighteen months old. My husband and I took turns keeping her in our arms since she was most comfortable that way. When she was down the poor baby tried very hard not to walk into walls.

It was a given she wouldn’t be going upstairs, so I used the guest room last night. By using the pillow shams to help prop her up. Except I didn’t bring Barney’s pillow down with mine, so he decided to make my pillow his and we fought over it all night long. I ended up with him draped along the back of my head while I had to contort some since Katie wanted physical contact.

Sleep? What’s that?

Today she still wants to be in her mom’s arms and I haven’t told her she has to wear the cone for fourteen days.

At least Barney’s behaved, except for the pillow incident. And he even looks after her when we go outside. Both Katie and I will be counting down the days. For now, I’ll give my baby her cuddles because she has an owie.

Linda

Guest Blogger Lilian Darcy

It's always fun to have a guest author here in hopes my followers will find someone new to read. I know I love it when I find someone new to me. Lilian Darcy is an awesome writer and I hope you'll enjoy her post, say hi, and please give her books a try! 

Welcome Lilian!

Thanks for having me on your wonderfully witchy blog. I love the way


your career has become increasingly magical over the years.

Isn't it amazing how diverse the romance genre is?

Like Linda, I started in series romance and am still writing for Harlequin

Special Edition. Also like you, however, I found that there were stories I

couldn't tell within the framework of short contemporary romance. You found

that you didn't want to be hemmed in by realism but needed to let your magic

fly, while I learned that I just needed more space, more room for characters

and layers and complexities that contemporary series romance readers aren't

looking for when they pick up that kind of book.

The great thing is that, just as we might feel like cereal for breakfast one

day and toast the next, our moods change as readers. Today we want to pick

up that short, sexy contemporary romance that we can devour in a single

sitting. Tomorrow we might want witchy antics, or the sizzle and danger or

romantic suspense, or the tangled relationships of a sweeping saga.

I love the way the covers on your website clearly show the reader what he or

she is in for, whether it's fun and flirty and hexy, or hot and dramatic and

intense.

But it seems to me that both readers and writers of romance carry with them

some non-negotiable wants and needs when we move into new territory.

We need women we can identify with. Sometimes that means women just like us.

Sometimes it means women who fulfill our long-held fantasies. Sometimes it's

a woman who shows us a part of ourselves that we've almost forgotten or

never seen before.

We need a moral universe that feels right, and in balance. If a major

character does something wrong, he or she knows it. The women we want to

read about can make mistakes sometimes, but at heart they're good people.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, we need reasons to feel. It doesn't

matter if our feelings come from laughing or crying or holding our breath in

suspense, from being in love with the hero or temporarily furious with him,

or from getting lost in the heroine's richly described universe of sights

and sounds and textures. We just want to strap ourselves in and be taken on

a glorious ride.

My novel Saving Gerda, launched this month, is going to take readers on a

very different kind of ride to any that I've taken them on before. It's the

first time I've set a book in the past, in this case in Germany in the

1930s, in the challenging and confronting period of history that led up to

the Second World War. It's about a mother's love for her daughter as much as

it's about the romance between a man and a woman, although there's strong

romance in the mix. But the story still has all those qualities and elements

I've talked about - women we identify with, a moral universe that reflects

our own, and an intensely emotional ride.

I really hope readers follow me into this new territory the way they've


followed you into your magical world, Linda.


You can buy Saving Gerda at

http://www.backlistebooks.com/2012/06/saving-gerda/ by clicking on the links

to your chosen ebook store.

Demon Fashionista

“Food, shower, bed,” Maggie muttered, stumbling into the kitchen. She lifted an arm and sniffed. “Shower, food, bed.”

She made it as far as the table before collapsing on a chair and resting her head on the smooth surface.

“Uh babe, no offense, but you reek like a long dead troll.” Declan’s hand rested lightly on her head then retreated.

“More like a chupacabra with enhanced magick,” she mumbled into her crossed arms. “Bad. Very bad. When we destroyed him his blood and guts went everywhere. Namely on me.” She moaned as his hands dug into her tight shoulders. Courtesy of his half fire demon blood, warmth sprang up from his touch. “Don’t stop.”

“Hm, I’ve heard that before,” he chuckled in her ear then reared back at the stench. “Why don’t you take a hot shower while I fix you something to eat?”

“I can do that.” She didn’t move.

“I’ve missed you.” He dipped his head quickly to place a kiss behind her ear. The only part of her body that wasn’t covered with chupacabra filth. And love that he was willing to touch her with his mouth.

Maggie smiled. “Oh love, I wish I had the energy.”

“Maybe I can persuade you since we have the house to ourselves,” he growled.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” Courtney burst into the kitchen.

“I spoke too soon,” Declan sighed, straightening up.

“You’re back!” The teenager bounced up and down on her toes. She ran to Maggie than hopped back. “Eww!” She scrunched up her nose. “You smell really bad, Mags. Seriously, you need a mega-bottle of body wash.”

“Really?” She counted sarcasm as her middle name.

“But I’m so glad you’re here because the deadline’s in two days.” Courtney waved a sheet of paper in front of her. “And they need a check with the registration forms.”

Maggie lifted her head and finally got a good look at her charge.

“What in Hades happened to your hair!” she shrieked, staring at the girl’s vari-colored hair that ranged from robins egg blue to yellow to emerald to magenta along with bright turquoise tips.

“Isn’t it cool?” Courtney whirled around.

Maggie speared her lover with a glare fit to kill. “You let her color her hair!”

“She said it was a temporary rinse,” Declan defended himself.

The witch slowly got to her feet, feeling every ache and pain from her battle in Mexico. “Does that look temporary?” She gestured at Courtney’s waist-length locks. “That’s it. Next time I have to be gone for more than twenty four hours I’m getting a baby sitter. For both of you!” she pointed at Declan.

He held up his hands. “It was easier than listening to her beg for a tattoo.”

“Youngling not ready,” Elle, Maggie’s black widow spider tattoo/protector, that doubled as a tattoo on Maggie’s biceps chimed in.

“And I’m not ready for rainbow sherbet hair. Wash it out,” Maggie commanded.
“It rinses out gradually,” Courtney explained, still oblivious to Maggie’s anger. She hopped on a bar stool by the counter. “Besides, we need to talk about camp.” She waved the papers again.

“Camp.” Thoughts of a shower, food and bed disappeared.
The teenager’s head bobbed.

“What kind of camp?”

“This is a totally cool fashionista camp.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she again waved the paper.

Maggie frowned. Her idea of fashion was wearing lip gloss and mascara if she thought about it. The creatures she hunted didn’t care if she wore eye shadow or not. Luckily, Declan didn’t mind that she wasn’t in to all the make up and designer clothing the women entering his club lived by. Although she was willing to layer it on nights she visited his club because no matter what she liked looking pretty for her hot hot demon.

“And what happens at a fashionista camp?” Maggie asked her charge.

“It’s so cool. There’re no stupid games, swimming and or any of those lame crafts you normally do at camp. At this one you learn proper ways to wear make up, there’re workshops taught by Hollywood stylists and hairdressers. You learn how to dominate the world.” She finally thrust the paper at Maggie.

Maggie’s gaze skimmed the details and zeroed in on the bottom. She was positive her eyes bugged out like a Tex Avery cartoon character. “$4,000!”

“Well, sure. I mean, I’d be there for a month,” Courtney explained. “And you get free make up and hair products. Plus the camp is in Malibu.”

“Oh well, that explains it,” Declan murmured. He held his hands up in quick justification. “Better than her coming up with one of those leather pouches she’d sew. Especially after she almost flunked Home Ec.”

Bed. No, forget it, take me back to Mexico and another chupacabra. I don’t care how much blood and gore he’d spit on me.

When Maggie was named guardian of orphaned Courtney whose demon blood made her valuable among many, she hadn’t planned on dealing with a teenager filled with the usual emotional highs and lows and who considered fashion conscious Thea her best friend and Maggie the Wicked Witch of Texas. Then there were the times Courtney wanted to try her hand at magick and Maggie put a stop to it by casting a geas so she couldn’t talk about it.

Maggie took a deep breath. “I am not spending $4,000 for a month’s at a camp where you’ll be surrounded by spoiled wealthy girls who live by designer labels.”

“I need this,” she pleaded. “I will never ask for anything else again for the rest of my life.”

“Seems we’ve heard that before.” Declan rested his hand against the back of Maggie’s neck to keep her in her seat instead of raging back and forth. “Last month there were the booties you couldn’t live without. Shoes you wore twice and haven’t worn since.”

“Jeans guaranteed to turn you into a goddess,” Maggie added, shaking her head. “There’s no four grand for you. And don’t turn the puppy dog eyes on Declan!” she ordered, seeing the direction of Courtney’s soulful gaze. “He won’t pay it either.”

The girl’s hopeful expression darkened. “Then why can’t we pay for it with boom boom.” She gritted her teeth. “I hate that binding spell!”

“Better than you tweeting about magick among people who don’t need to know about it,” Maggie told her, suppressing a grin at her charge’s mutinous glare.

But Courtney wasn’t finished. “What if I earn the money? Can I go then?”

“You said the deadline to register is in two days.”

“There’s another session later in the summer. What if I have the money for that one.”

“And where do you expect to find a job that will earn you that kind of money?”

Courtney drew herself up tall. “I’ll find it. You’ll see. Deal?” She held out her hand.

Maggie and Declan looked at each other with that silent communication adults require when dealing with a teenager. Declan shrugged.

“Fine. If you can earn the money you can go. And nothing illegal!”

Courtney rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, like I would. You’ll see! I’ll have the money.”

One week later

Maggie checked the roast, pleased to see it looked as good as it hopefully would taste.

“Where’s the kid?” Declan pulled her into an embrace with a sizzling kiss to follow.

“Working,” she replied, drawing him back for another kiss.

“She found a job already?”
She nodded. “She wouldn’t tell me where. Just had that smirk on her face when she left this morning. She called about an hour ago and said not to wait dinner for her.”

“I’ll get the wine.”

Maggie and Declan enjoyed their meal on the patio and were relaxing with a second bottle of wine when the back gate clicked open.

Courtney, looking less than fresh, walked slowly into the back yard. There wasn’t a trace of the vibrant teenager.

“What happened to you?” Maggie half rose from her chair.

Declan ran over and grasped the girl around her waist and helped to his chair.

“Oh honey.” He brushed hair from her face.

Courtney’s shoulders rose and fell. “I got a job at The Library,” she whispered as if she couldn’t speak in a louder tone.

“You wanted to work there?” Maggie was in shock since The (long e if you please) Librarian was known not to appreciate anyone working in the stacks. He considered the books, scrolls, and parchments his personal kingdom.

She nodded. “It seemed like a great deal at the time. And better than that nursery job at the Compound you wanted me to take. And pays better. Now I know why.” She started to reach for Maggie’s glass of wine. The witch swiftly put it out of her reach and conjured up a glass of Coke.

“What did you do there?” Declan asked, taking one of the other chairs.

“The Librarian wanted someone to catalog these new scrolls that had been found in a cave in Greece. What he didn’t tell me was that they bite!” She held up her hands showing tiny nip marks on her fingers.
“And is this job going to pay for Fashionista Camp?” Maggie asked her, thinking she’d see where this was going.

Courtney nodded. “Yes, and now I know why he was willing to pay so much. Can you use something to fix my owies?” she asked, holding out her hands.

Maggie laid her hands on Courtney’s which promptly healed.

“So I guess you’ll want me to see if the nursery job is still open?”

“Oh no!” The teenager drew herself up. Her eyes glittered with determination. “There’s no way those damn scrolls are going to get the best of me. Tomorrow I’ll be ready for them.”

“Fashionista Camp,” Maggie muttered, dreading what the girl would come back looking like.

“Look at the bright side, love,” Declan grinned. “We’ll have a month with the house all to ourselves.”

The witch shook her head. "Fine, but if she comes home with a rock or reality show star I'm blaming you."