- I want to attract new readers.
- My publisher Koehler Books is offering the e-book for $1.99 on Amazon until further notice.
- Book two in the series, Mad Max Uncharted Territory is set for publication in June 2014.
I will release bits of the first novel on this blog on Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays to entice you to pick up the book on Amazon. I track my sales carefully. I'd like to see them bump up before the holidays and continue until Max 2 comes out. Only you can help.
Please tell you friends about the serialization. Writers, please share the posts with your readers. Readers, please tell other readers. My thanks in advance.
We begin with Chapter One.
Raney and Eleanor, two of my dearest friends, sat at a small
table in Le Bistro in SoHo, gossiping about their grandchildren. I
tossed my ankle-length mink trench and fedora atop their coats and
slid onto an empty chair. Henri placed a cup of coffee beside me,
offered a short list of lunch specials, and vanished into the back.
“Why do we call him ‘Henri’?” Raney asked. “His name’s Barney.”
“Same reason my grandkids call me Mad Max. It fits.”
We scanned the menu we all knew by heart. Henri returned,
took our orders, and left. Talk returned to our grandchildren. Raney
brought me up to date on what her darlings were doing: school
dances, track meets, mid-year tests. All the usual stuff.
“My granddaughter’s pregnancy is not going as well as it should.”
Eleanor’s perfect, slightly old-fashioned diction revealed her uppercrust
British upbringing. “I may go to Phoenix to help.”
“Oh, dear,” said Raney. “I hope it’s not like her first one.”
“We will not know for a month or two.”
I felt a familiar itch of envy for the easy relationships Eleanor
and Raney enjoyed with their daughters. So normal.
“How are your grandkids, Max?” Raney asked.
“Great. Alex can’t stop buzzing about his ice hockey team.
They’re having their first winning season. He’s so psyched. Em texts
about her next school break. She wants to visit.”
I talked to or texted with Alex and Emilie every day since their
father, Whip, gave them cell phones for Christmas. I had more fun
with my grandkids than I’d had with my own two children. Maybe it
was because I had almost no responsibility except to love and spoil
them. Maybe it was because I could send them back to their parents
when I got tired.
“What about Merry? When was the last time you talked to her?”
“Last week. She complained about how cold January has been.”
“She should live in New York.” Raney shook her head and
My daughter and I had an off-again, on-again relationship,
which started after her father’s death when she was eleven. I wanted
us to be more “on” than “off” and worked hard to pick my words so
she wouldn’t take offense. It didn’t take much to set her off at times.
“I was in Richmond over Christmas and spent all my time with
the kids. They have their own phones now, so I call them directly. I
call Merry just once a week. I don’t want to meddle.”
“Why do you let her get away with placing such restrictions on
your relationship?” Eleanor asked.
“She reminds me grandparents have privileges, not rights. I
can’t lose contact, so I play by her rules."
Chapter One continues on Tuesday,