Take a look at the final cover art for my second Bad Moon novel, Lesser.
Alissa Rindels is the amazing artist who produced this painting of the vampire Lucifera. Alissa also painted the cover and interior art for Lucifera's Pet. Check out more of her fantastic artwork at her website.
Lesser is scheduled for release in September 2011. Stay tuned!
Showing posts with label cover art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cover art. Show all posts
Monday, June 20, 2011
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
All Hallows: Chapter 1
If you have read my novel, Lucifera's Pet, you may remember that Lucifera became a vampire on October 13, 102 AD. It was 3:30 in the morning to be exact.
Why do I know the exact day and time of a made-up character's conversion to vampire? Because I'm a freak like that.
Just go with it.
To celebrate Lucifera's dark birthday, I am publishing the entire first chapter of my upcoming novella, All Hallows, right here. It is completely raw and unedited. Please read and let me know what you think. Specifically, is it compelling enough to get you to read chapter 2?
All Hallows: Chapter 1
Sophia wanted to die. She prayed for the Lord to call her home every day for the better part of a decade. On a chilly October evening death knocked on her door.
Few who knew the elderly woman would have guessed that she went through life each day hoping it would be her last. She had outlived both her husband and their three children by ten years. The frontier was harsh and life was so very fragile. Except for Sophia’s, it seemed.
She had endured two bouts of influenza that killed more than a dozen people younger than herself in the formerly quiet mining settlement of Deadwood, South Dakota. Every morning she awoke to pain so severe that it took her an hour to work up the strength to get out of bed.
She had just said “amen” for her nightly prayers when she heard the rapping at her door.
Three knocks came in a deep, methodical rhythm. It was precisely how she figured death would sound.
With the pain she usually felt in her joints oddly absent, Sophia slid out from under the covers and put on her housecoat. She took her time walking to the door. There was no need to hurry. Death had been waiting for eighty-nine years. It could wait a little longer.
She placed a hand on the lock, but hesitated. It was well past midnight and all but the rowdiest of outlaws had called it a night. Still, no one would be foolish enough to knock on her door if they planned to rob her. If she screamed people would come.
“Who’s there?” she asked through the closed door.
“You called and I have answered, Sophia.”
The voice that replied was warm and calm. It was the voice of a young woman. Her slight accent was European, but Sophia couldn’t place the country.
She opened the door.
A blast of cool air brought a shudder from the woman. One look at her caller brought another.
The young woman was wearing an extravagant maroon dress, cut lower than it should have been at the top and clinging scandalously to her waist and chest. Her black hair was pulled back in an ornate fashion and cascaded down her body as though she had just arrived for the ball. She was a stunning beauty to be sure, but it was the same beauty that could be found in the eyes of a mountain lioness just before she killed.
“Who are you?” Sophia asked.
“Call me whatever you wish. You know why I am here. It is your time.”
“You are death, then?”
“If you like. Invite me in and I will give you what you seek.”
Sophia hesitated. When presented with promise of the sweet release of death she found herself wavering. Were things really that bad?
Her thoughts drifted to her only friend, Adam. The odd man surely wouldn’t miss an old woman who had lived long past her expiration.
She looked back into the eyes of the girl, fully prepared to tell her to go away. What strange eyes they were. So green that they seemed to glow in the moonlight.
The girl wasn’t real. She couldn’t be.
“Sophia.” A new voice greeted her. This one was deep and masculine. It was so familiar. Sophia turned to find her husband standing beside her. He wasn’t old and worn down as he had been at his death. Instead he was as healthy and youthful as he was shortly after their children had been born.
“Jonathan?”
“It’s me, Sophie. And look.” He stepped to the side revealing two cherubic boys and a beautiful little girl.
“My babies!” Sophia took a step forward with arms outstretched to embrace the husband and children who had left the Earth many years before. Her heart swelled and pounded with joy.
The girl outside smiled.
As Sophia’s hands neared her loved ones, they began to fade. Her husband disappeared and her children dissolved into darkness before her eyes. They were still as dead as they had been these long torturous years.
Sophia looked back at the temptress in the doorway. “Even death wouldn't be that cruel.”
The young woman outside said nothing. The wind blew, rustling the fabric of her dress and her long, black hair. She should have shivered from the cold, but instead she was motionless, as only the dead can be.
Sophia knew she should close the door and pretend that it was all a dream. No good could come from the thing outside. Still, she could smell the tobacco from her husband’s pipe and hear the echoes of her children’s laughter. It had seemed so real.
The two women stared into each other’s eyes in silence. Sophia suddenly found the girl’s enigmatic smile infuriating. The cold began to take its toll and Sophia’s joints started to ache. She stumbled and looked back towards her waiting bed.
The woman outside did not move.
Sophia let out a sigh as the weight of many painful years of courage in the face of harsh life drained from her.
Finally, she spoke. “Come inside, demon. Take me to Hell if that’s what you came for.”
The woman stepped across the threshold. “My name is Lucifera, and life has shown you enough cruelty. I bring you this.”
Sophia’s husband appeared before her again. This time, he walked towards her and took her in his arms. Stunned, she pushed against him, finding that he was flesh and not the apparition from before.
“Oh Jonathan.” Sophia buried her face in his shoulder and wept tears of joy.
She barely noticed the sharp pain in her throat. Her husband rocked her gently in his arms and stroked her hair as the life poured out of her body.
Sophia died happily.
The vampire felt the life leave Sophia’s body but continued to drink. She relaxed her mind, allowing the effort she put into tricking the old woman’s senses to fade away while she savored the last drops of blood.
Human emotions exhibited such distinct flavors. It had been some time since Lucifera had tasted happiness. It was far too sweet for her pallet. She much preferred when her victims died in terror. Fear was both salty and sour, and most delectable. Still, she was a guest in this town and she had to be respectful, at least for the time being.
With only days to go before the ceremony, Lucifera was beginning to like it in Deadwood. She had tried to be a good guest and feed as neatly as possible. The others were far less considerate. Downright sloppy, even. In the grand scheme, it was of little importance. Chance favored the possibility that all of existence would be cast into a void of nothingness in less than a fortnight.
Lucifera placed Sophia in bed and closed the front door on her way out. Impending apocalypse or no, she saw no reason to be uncivilized.
Why do I know the exact day and time of a made-up character's conversion to vampire? Because I'm a freak like that.
Just go with it.
To celebrate Lucifera's dark birthday, I am publishing the entire first chapter of my upcoming novella, All Hallows, right here. It is completely raw and unedited. Please read and let me know what you think. Specifically, is it compelling enough to get you to read chapter 2?
All Hallows: Chapter 1
Sophia wanted to die. She prayed for the Lord to call her home every day for the better part of a decade. On a chilly October evening death knocked on her door.
Few who knew the elderly woman would have guessed that she went through life each day hoping it would be her last. She had outlived both her husband and their three children by ten years. The frontier was harsh and life was so very fragile. Except for Sophia’s, it seemed.
She had endured two bouts of influenza that killed more than a dozen people younger than herself in the formerly quiet mining settlement of Deadwood, South Dakota. Every morning she awoke to pain so severe that it took her an hour to work up the strength to get out of bed.
She had just said “amen” for her nightly prayers when she heard the rapping at her door.
Three knocks came in a deep, methodical rhythm. It was precisely how she figured death would sound.
With the pain she usually felt in her joints oddly absent, Sophia slid out from under the covers and put on her housecoat. She took her time walking to the door. There was no need to hurry. Death had been waiting for eighty-nine years. It could wait a little longer.
She placed a hand on the lock, but hesitated. It was well past midnight and all but the rowdiest of outlaws had called it a night. Still, no one would be foolish enough to knock on her door if they planned to rob her. If she screamed people would come.
“Who’s there?” she asked through the closed door.
“You called and I have answered, Sophia.”
The voice that replied was warm and calm. It was the voice of a young woman. Her slight accent was European, but Sophia couldn’t place the country.
She opened the door.
A blast of cool air brought a shudder from the woman. One look at her caller brought another.
The young woman was wearing an extravagant maroon dress, cut lower than it should have been at the top and clinging scandalously to her waist and chest. Her black hair was pulled back in an ornate fashion and cascaded down her body as though she had just arrived for the ball. She was a stunning beauty to be sure, but it was the same beauty that could be found in the eyes of a mountain lioness just before she killed.
“Who are you?” Sophia asked.
“Call me whatever you wish. You know why I am here. It is your time.”
“You are death, then?”
“If you like. Invite me in and I will give you what you seek.”
Sophia hesitated. When presented with promise of the sweet release of death she found herself wavering. Were things really that bad?
Her thoughts drifted to her only friend, Adam. The odd man surely wouldn’t miss an old woman who had lived long past her expiration.
She looked back into the eyes of the girl, fully prepared to tell her to go away. What strange eyes they were. So green that they seemed to glow in the moonlight.
The girl wasn’t real. She couldn’t be.
“Sophia.” A new voice greeted her. This one was deep and masculine. It was so familiar. Sophia turned to find her husband standing beside her. He wasn’t old and worn down as he had been at his death. Instead he was as healthy and youthful as he was shortly after their children had been born.
“Jonathan?”
“It’s me, Sophie. And look.” He stepped to the side revealing two cherubic boys and a beautiful little girl.
“My babies!” Sophia took a step forward with arms outstretched to embrace the husband and children who had left the Earth many years before. Her heart swelled and pounded with joy.
The girl outside smiled.
As Sophia’s hands neared her loved ones, they began to fade. Her husband disappeared and her children dissolved into darkness before her eyes. They were still as dead as they had been these long torturous years.
Sophia looked back at the temptress in the doorway. “Even death wouldn't be that cruel.”
The young woman outside said nothing. The wind blew, rustling the fabric of her dress and her long, black hair. She should have shivered from the cold, but instead she was motionless, as only the dead can be.
Sophia knew she should close the door and pretend that it was all a dream. No good could come from the thing outside. Still, she could smell the tobacco from her husband’s pipe and hear the echoes of her children’s laughter. It had seemed so real.
The two women stared into each other’s eyes in silence. Sophia suddenly found the girl’s enigmatic smile infuriating. The cold began to take its toll and Sophia’s joints started to ache. She stumbled and looked back towards her waiting bed.
The woman outside did not move.
Sophia let out a sigh as the weight of many painful years of courage in the face of harsh life drained from her.
Finally, she spoke. “Come inside, demon. Take me to Hell if that’s what you came for.”
The woman stepped across the threshold. “My name is Lucifera, and life has shown you enough cruelty. I bring you this.”
Sophia’s husband appeared before her again. This time, he walked towards her and took her in his arms. Stunned, she pushed against him, finding that he was flesh and not the apparition from before.
“Oh Jonathan.” Sophia buried her face in his shoulder and wept tears of joy.
She barely noticed the sharp pain in her throat. Her husband rocked her gently in his arms and stroked her hair as the life poured out of her body.
Sophia died happily.
The vampire felt the life leave Sophia’s body but continued to drink. She relaxed her mind, allowing the effort she put into tricking the old woman’s senses to fade away while she savored the last drops of blood.
Human emotions exhibited such distinct flavors. It had been some time since Lucifera had tasted happiness. It was far too sweet for her pallet. She much preferred when her victims died in terror. Fear was both salty and sour, and most delectable. Still, she was a guest in this town and she had to be respectful, at least for the time being.
With only days to go before the ceremony, Lucifera was beginning to like it in Deadwood. She had tried to be a good guest and feed as neatly as possible. The others were far less considerate. Downright sloppy, even. In the grand scheme, it was of little importance. Chance favored the possibility that all of existence would be cast into a void of nothingness in less than a fortnight.
Lucifera placed Sophia in bed and closed the front door on her way out. Impending apocalypse or no, she saw no reason to be uncivilized.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Werewolf Gunslinger: All Hallows Chapter 1 concept art
Werewolf Gunslinger: All Hallows is the novella follow-up to my werewolf gunslinger short stories available for free on Smashwords.com here. I am producing a pen and ink drawing for each chapter similar to the format of one of my favorite books, A Night in the Lonesome October by Roger Zelazny.
In Chapter 1, one of the protagonists from my novel, Lucifera's Pet, makes an appearance. This was the first rough sketch I did of the scene:
When I get around to inking this piece, I'll post that here as well.
Feedback is greatly appreciated!
In Chapter 1, one of the protagonists from my novel, Lucifera's Pet, makes an appearance. This was the first rough sketch I did of the scene:
I played around with a few things and decided to add a doorway to show the point of view of the unlucky individual who encounters the vampiress. Here is my final sketch:When I get around to inking this piece, I'll post that here as well.
Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Final cover for Silver Shells: A Werewolf Gunslinger Tale
***UPDATE!! Scroll down to the bottom to see the final cover.
I started the Werewolf Gunslinger short stories as a fun side project and a way for people to get a taste of my writing before delving into my novel, Lucifera's Pet. Thus far, Werewolf Gunslinger - Volume 1 has been downloaded 826 times and Volume 2 has been downloaded 528 times from Smashwords.
I put the original cover art for those together from a mishmash of photos and images with some digital effects thrown in. Every time I look at them, I cringe. New covers are long overdue.
I decided to take a shot and produce a couple of pen and ink drawings for the covers. I did three rough sketches last night. The first two were not fit to be seen by human beings ... you know ... with their eyes. They are bad. They are so bad that it would be a shame if they were described to a person who could not see because they would then also be subjected to the horror of the shoddy images as well.
The image below is the least awful of the three. It isn't exactly what I want, but it's getting there.
The moon and Lily's eyes will be red and she will most likely be holding both guns in a bit more dynamic pose. The guns themselves will be larger to fit the actual scale of a Walker Colt. I may go with a more stylized look as well.
UPDATE!!!
Several sketches later, I did a very quick one that has become my favorite so far:
I liked this one so much that I decided to reproduce it in ink:
Update 9-6-2010
Twelfth try if you're counting. Finished with ink and shaded with charcoal. I'll at least give this one a preliminary look as a completed cover. Stay tuned and let me know what you think.
Big thanks to everyone who stuck with me on this one through my many revisions. Now, do me an even bigger favor and go read the story!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/10710
Cheers!
I started the Werewolf Gunslinger short stories as a fun side project and a way for people to get a taste of my writing before delving into my novel, Lucifera's Pet. Thus far, Werewolf Gunslinger - Volume 1 has been downloaded 826 times and Volume 2 has been downloaded 528 times from Smashwords.
I put the original cover art for those together from a mishmash of photos and images with some digital effects thrown in. Every time I look at them, I cringe. New covers are long overdue.
I decided to take a shot and produce a couple of pen and ink drawings for the covers. I did three rough sketches last night. The first two were not fit to be seen by human beings ... you know ... with their eyes. They are bad. They are so bad that it would be a shame if they were described to a person who could not see because they would then also be subjected to the horror of the shoddy images as well.
The image below is the least awful of the three. It isn't exactly what I want, but it's getting there.
The moon and Lily's eyes will be red and she will most likely be holding both guns in a bit more dynamic pose. The guns themselves will be larger to fit the actual scale of a Walker Colt. I may go with a more stylized look as well.
UPDATE!!!
Several sketches later, I did a very quick one that has become my favorite so far:
I liked this one so much that I decided to reproduce it in ink:
Update 9-6-2010
Twelfth try if you're counting. Finished with ink and shaded with charcoal. I'll at least give this one a preliminary look as a completed cover. Stay tuned and let me know what you think.
Update - 9-14-2010
Okay. This is the final, final, final update for Silver Shells. Let me know what you think:
Big thanks to everyone who stuck with me on this one through my many revisions. Now, do me an even bigger favor and go read the story!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/10710
Cheers!
Labels:
book covers,
cover art,
gunslingers,
short fiction,
Werewolves
Friday, May 7, 2010
Judging a book by its cover
I grew up reading comic books. I bet I just lost a lot of you right there. Believe it or not, comics can teach us a lot about how people decide whether or not to look at a book. In no other area is a cover image more important than for monthly periodicals.
I spent several years in magazine circulation and learned that readers flock to a pretty cover. One of the magazines I worked with was a food publication. They could have an issue with the best recipes and articles about food written by world renowned chefs and critics, but if they were stuck with a cover image of a wilted bologna sandwich, they wouldn’t sell an issue.
When I was small, my dad would come home from his job chasing bad guys as a State Trooper every Friday and bring me a comic book. We would sit together and read a story about (what else?) chasing bad guys. He didn’t pay attention to covers. He just grabbed whatever comic was on top of the rack at the convenience store on the way home. I grew up with a love of reading and a love of comics.
I drifted out of comics for several years after dad retired and no longer made it by the convenience store each Friday. One day after school, a comic caught my eye: Incredible Hulk #340. The character Wolverine had his claws drawn and a snarl on his face while a reflection of the Hulk’s face showed that the anger was mutual.
I opened the book and found exactly what I hoped to find: those two characters engaging in a brutal battle.
When I browse novels, nothing thrills me more than an exciting, artistic cover. I have been burned enough times to learn never to buy a book based solely on the cover, but that is what draws me to a book. The cover should be a window inside that gives potential readers a taste of things to come.
Blue Moon by Laurell K. Hamilton, is one of my favorite books. It is also the last book in the Anita Blake series that I have been able to finish. Here is the cover art on the version that I originally purchased:
The image is dark and foreboding. There is no question that this is a werewolf tale. I had read one previous book in the series before this one. I bought Blue Moon on the spot and read the other stories leading up to that one shortly thereafter. And then it stopped.
I let a friend borrow my copy of Blue Moon and it was never seen again. I wanted to reread it a few years back and decided to pick up another copy. To my dismay, the image above was now indicative of what that series became. If I were to evaluate Blue Moon based on this image, I would guess that it is a book about a wolf that has sex with a giant smurf. This would be an inaccurate assessment. From what I understand, that does not take place until much later in the series.
One of my favorite books in high school was Surfing Samurai Robots by Mel Gilden. The book can be judged by its cover with 100% accuracy:
When I wrote Lucifera’s Pet, I knew exactly what type of cover I wanted it to have. Alissa Rindels was able to bring the lead characters to life in a painting that became the cover image below. You can take one look and know exactly what to expect.
Will good cover art and design alone sell books? Maybe a few. As a reader, I look for a cover that conveys a true sense of the story contained within a book’s pages. As a writer, I want potential readers to know what they have in store.
I spent several years in magazine circulation and learned that readers flock to a pretty cover. One of the magazines I worked with was a food publication. They could have an issue with the best recipes and articles about food written by world renowned chefs and critics, but if they were stuck with a cover image of a wilted bologna sandwich, they wouldn’t sell an issue.
When I was small, my dad would come home from his job chasing bad guys as a State Trooper every Friday and bring me a comic book. We would sit together and read a story about (what else?) chasing bad guys. He didn’t pay attention to covers. He just grabbed whatever comic was on top of the rack at the convenience store on the way home. I grew up with a love of reading and a love of comics.
I drifted out of comics for several years after dad retired and no longer made it by the convenience store each Friday. One day after school, a comic caught my eye: Incredible Hulk #340. The character Wolverine had his claws drawn and a snarl on his face while a reflection of the Hulk’s face showed that the anger was mutual.
I opened the book and found exactly what I hoped to find: those two characters engaging in a brutal battle.
When I browse novels, nothing thrills me more than an exciting, artistic cover. I have been burned enough times to learn never to buy a book based solely on the cover, but that is what draws me to a book. The cover should be a window inside that gives potential readers a taste of things to come.
Blue Moon by Laurell K. Hamilton, is one of my favorite books. It is also the last book in the Anita Blake series that I have been able to finish. Here is the cover art on the version that I originally purchased:
The image is dark and foreboding. There is no question that this is a werewolf tale. I had read one previous book in the series before this one. I bought Blue Moon on the spot and read the other stories leading up to that one shortly thereafter. And then it stopped.
I let a friend borrow my copy of Blue Moon and it was never seen again. I wanted to reread it a few years back and decided to pick up another copy. To my dismay, the image above was now indicative of what that series became. If I were to evaluate Blue Moon based on this image, I would guess that it is a book about a wolf that has sex with a giant smurf. This would be an inaccurate assessment. From what I understand, that does not take place until much later in the series.
One of my favorite books in high school was Surfing Samurai Robots by Mel Gilden. The book can be judged by its cover with 100% accuracy:
When I wrote Lucifera’s Pet, I knew exactly what type of cover I wanted it to have. Alissa Rindels was able to bring the lead characters to life in a painting that became the cover image below. You can take one look and know exactly what to expect.
Will good cover art and design alone sell books? Maybe a few. As a reader, I look for a cover that conveys a true sense of the story contained within a book’s pages. As a writer, I want potential readers to know what they have in store.
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