Since the summer 0f 2013, (also known as the summer of collapse in my private thoughts), my books have not done well in this new era of high gas prices, food, and shelter. As an incentive, to making my books more attractive I lowered the prices and am busily changing covers.
If you make your own covers and are not an artist, I suggest using Dreamstime.com. I found this particular site last year when I decided that my covers needed to look more professional. I pay for the use of the image with a credit system. There is also a free area. Then I add the lettering. (Plus I give the artist a cover image credit in the book.)
I have changed this cover approximately two other times. The first cover was from one of my personal photos. Then I used CreateSpace’s cover maker, which gave me the next image. As you can see the newest cover does have a zing to it that this one doesn’t.
Also, many of the visual artists on this site are freelancing and are in the indie market. I try to support people who are in basically the same marketplace.
I am learning slowly that a cover is the first thing that readers see and the first marketing tool.
Erika T Red
Erika is a normal girl, trying to save money for college when she walks into her destiny in the form of a wolf, raven, and a dying god. She learns life is not fair, but it can have some benefits along the way.
You can also find this book in other outlets such as Apple and Scribd.
Farbiorn Neilsen leaned against the dark rocks, slicked with light rain. He peered through them to the scene below. An old man with a bandage around his eyes was carefully led to the center of a clearing in front of a small wooden shack. Around him were warriors dressed in leather jerkins. One or two of them carried swords. The rest carried wooden spears.
He shivered. Farbiorn did not want to go back to that clearing. Just minutes before, he had been forced into the shack. The warriors had held his head so that he was forced to face the old man, eyes to eyes. If the old man had uncovered his eyes, then Farbiorn would not be the same. He knew it in his gut.
In a last desperate effort, Farbiorn struggled free. He didn’t know how he had gotten away from the warrior, but he had run as fast as he could into the rocks. He had slid down, listening to the hard beat of his heart, had listened to the harsh breath coming from his mouth. Just a moment and he would slip into the forest before the warriors could find him.
Only this morning he had been in the fields. This spring had started early. His father, Neil, had gone to the village to get a midwife. His mother was giving birth. His sisters were helping his mother through the pain. He could hear her groans outside as he tried to think of the planting. She was too old for this birthing. He knew she was going to die.
He had soothed the ox by touching its face and slapping his sides. Then he put his work-hardened hands on both handles of the plough.
“Get up,” he said.
He had not noticed the warriors as he concentrated on the first row. The ox walked at a slow pace as he held the plough in the soil. When he reached the end of the row, he turned the ox around for the next one. It was then he looked up. It was then that he saw them.
They had his young sister confined between two of them. “Come with us,” one said. “Come with us and we won’t hurt her.”
The soldiers didn’t lie. Not this time. If he didn’t go with them, they would hurt and rape her. Erik would still have been forcibly taken to his doom.
Farbiorn nodded to them. He unhooked the ox from the plough and led him to the small corral by the cabin. He waited for the warriors to let his sister go. She ran into the cabin. He saw his white-faced young brother watch as the warriors took him away.
It seemed like a dream. Even to save his family… could he look into that old man’s eyes? Glued to the rock, Farbiorn watched the warriors take the blindfold from the old man’s eyes. One eye had an empty socket. The other eye was a brilliant blue. He shuddered. His whole body became cold. He could feel that eye looking, looking, looking. There. He heard inside his head.
He is there.
This time the warriors tied him tightly. He could not move or blink. The old man looked deeply into Farbiorn’s eyes. Farbiorn had light blue eyes, but as the old man stared deep into Farbiorn’s eyes, his eyes changed to one empty socket and a blue eye. When he was finished, the old man had two light blue eyes.
The old man fell to the floor. His breathing slowed and then stopped. The warriors watched.
“It is done,” no-longer Farbiorn said. “I am Odin,”
He looked at the old man. “Get rid of this dead meat.” He turned and walked into the small cabin.