Bellflower is Blossoming

I am thrilled to report that Bellflower - the short story companion to Forget Me Not, better known as the prequel to the prequel - is blossoming quite nicely! It was a tremendous blessing to see the story come together in just three days. As a "pantser," I was just so eager to find out what would happen and how everything would fit. ;)

I finished the story on Saturday and sent it right off to my proofreader (the fabulous Rachelle Rea). I got edits back last night and hope to incorporate them ASAP and somehow share this story in conjunction with Forget Me Not's release.

That's where I've reached a bit of an impasse. My head is swimming with ideas and advice on how to distribute the story...and I'm really at a loss as to which direction I want to go! The story is a little different. It's short, for one thing (6,000 words). It takes place in a brothel but is still sweet and clean fiction. I'm worried about not making the most of the story, but on the other hand, I'm worried about it backfiring. I feel like the story will be most enjoyed by people who have read Forget Me Not and possibly Bleeding Heart - readers who want to know more about the characters and will also appreciate the connections to Beauty and the Beast. I'm concerned that if I offer it individually - which often means people will pick it up first to get a taste of my writing - it won't stand properly on its own.

So, I'm currently weighing my options. If you wouldn't mind praying for wisdom and the right path to be made clear, I'd sure appreciate it!

I do plan on sharing the story in some way very soon, so I hope you'll enjoy it. =) In the meantime, you can add the book on Goodreads, check out a visual and musical sneak peek on the Pinterest board, and read this brief snippet...

***

Annabelle Greer stepped off the train into the welcoming sunlight armed with the one lesson she’d learned from her mother before she passed away: if a woman had beauty, she would never have to be lonely.

Well, beauty and books. But her mother wouldn’t have understood the addition. Reading was something Annabelle’s father had taught her to appreciate—the only good and proper gift he’d given her.

Tempted to pull her copy of Northanger Abbey out of her valise and hold it in front of her face to block out the stares, she instead lifted her head high and refused to meet anyone’s gaze as she walked up the hill. It was the same in every town. Everyone seemed to know who she was, how she made her living.

***

If you have any thoughts on short-story distribution, I'd love to hear them!