I decided, after much deliberation, to make my Sci-fi/dystopian series, The Song of Forgetfulness, into a box set. Some authors say not to do this unless you have more books going out in the series. Well, I do, I have. Some authors say that it is a great idea as readers love box sets, especially if they work out cheaper than buying all the books individually.
But when to release?
I am not great at marketing and never know when it is the best time to publish a book. I experimented with the box set and just published it one one site with minimum advertising. Sold four copies over a six-day period to limited territories, so I was pleased.
Now I intend to release the box set on the mighty Amazon!!!
Watch this space for the date as it will be on offer for a few days at a drastically reduced price.
In the mean time, here are the first paragraphs from each of the books:
Chapter One Too High
Sweat trickled down my armpits and back as I shinnied upwards. The climb was harder than it looked. I stopped midway and clung onto the thick twine for a much needed breather. The air hovered still for a sec and in that quiet I swear I heard an owlet hoot. Or maybe it was the ghosties of our lost ones wipple-warbling through the dirt-free walkways of Cityplace. Nah, what rot. Anyhoo, best not pause my ascent to ponder such a notion. It was nearly dusk-to-dawn time and my outsideness was in jeopardy.
Echoes from the Lost Ones
Chapter One Kyboshed In The Underbrush
Something tiptoed down my back. I clenched my teeth so as not to screech “Yak” and continued to crawl. My hands touched squish and prickle, bugs swarmed around my fingers and neck. Huffin’ hell and back, I was being chomped by all things natural and I wasn’t even a gnat’s breath away from the perimeter fence. I knew nowt about the Wilderness, except it was full to brimming with beasties that craved my flesh.
A Silence Heard
Chapter One Towards The Place Of Danger
There are some that believe in telempathy. I did not, until now. Hearing my bro-bro’s panic-filled voice deep within my noggin, gave me more than pause for thought. Did he call to me? Or was it just a phantom of my guilt, haunting my lack of resolve to go to him. Like that ancient-ancient pretend male, Aamlet, who said he would revenge the death of his father, but did nowt but whine and think himself into a stupor.
To see all of my books on Amazon please go to this link