Alright, another Tuesday, another tale, but before we get to that, I’m going to ask for a bit of help.
You see, I’m trying to give this author thing a legitimate shot, writing e-books, starting a web-serial, doing a few other things. But I’m poor, so the books are edited by me with bad covers, and I can’t afford to advertise. In fact, it’s looking like I may not be able to afford my internet. (If that happens, expect a long hiatus.)Not going to lie, I’m stressing out here.
I’m not going to write a sob story here, but if I could actually find a job I would. Suffice to say that’s not possible for a variety of reasons, and leave it at that. So here’s my question, now that you’re all hopefully awake:
How can I go about advertising a web serial (https://petowblog.wordpress.com/ ), a Patreon, and ebooks for no actual cost? Where would I go? If you go somewhere, where? Any advice out there at all on this?
Okay, rant off. It’s story time, five minutes up on the clock and away we go:
She managed to scramble onto her limbs as security came, driving herself into the bedroom on shaky legs before collapsing and rolling under the bed. Luckily she had made no noise; whatever power she had used to do all these strange things, whatever magic, it was nearly depleted now.
She slowed her breathing, focusing on what her ears told her.
“There’s some dirt here. Mr. Simms is going to be pissed.” said mook number one.
“Yeah, but how did it get there? No one’s even been in here except us and my shoes are clean.” questioned mook number two.
“So are mine; I’d say the strike team did it, but they weren’t in here either, were they? And I’m sure I heard a thump just now.” Mook number one sounded honestly scared.
“Look. Look at the window. One of those idiots let his entry rope fall. West side, so it was Griff.”
The crackle of a radio. “Griff, report.”
Another crackle and the voice that could only be Griff responded, sounding annoyed. “Nothing to report. What do you want?”
“I want you to pull up your quick entry rope, you moron, it bounced on the window down here.”
Crackle. “Whoops, how did that happen? Oh well, hope I didn’t scare you ladies too badly.”
A mutter “I’ll lady you, you bastard.”
They moved off, and she heard a door close. they hadn’t even checked the bedroom. She was safe, for now.
Alright, there we have it. I went over a tad; five minutes and 23 seconds. Wanted to end on a proper cliffhanger, and not in the middle of the encounter. See you next week!