Monday, March 23, 2015

Suzanne Kelman Author Spotlight -- Blondie's Books from Friends

Blondie in the
Water Books From Friends (BFF) Author Spotlight on Suzanne Kelman


Please help me welcome Suzanne Kelman, one of my social media besties and a true class act. I've worked with Suzanne on the book cover for her latest novel, The Rejected Writers' Book Club last spring and I was blown away by her creative spark, her sense of humor, and her bursting with joy personality. Her book is a spitting image of these qualities and I hope you give it a whirl. 

I was also a beta reader for the novel and it is a really good read. It made me laugh, it made me cry and the character development is so good that still, after nearly a year, I find myself wondering what they're all up to. Thank goodness Suzanne is writing a whole series on these crazy characters because I could not get enough of them.

Suzanne Kelman

Aside from being super fun, talented and smart, Suzanne is a multi-award winning screenwriter who’s accolades include Best Comedy Feature Screenplay – LA International Film Festival (2011) Gold Award – California Film Awards (2012) and Winner - Van Gogh Award – The Amsterdam Film Festival (2012).

Did I mention she has a really cool accent? She was born in the UK and now lives in Washington State. But it's her laugh that gets me -- some would call that infectious, I call it heaven. 

Her writing voice has been described as a perfect blend of Janet Evanovich and Debbie Macomber. Born in the U.K. she now resides in Washington State. 


Buy your copy here

The Rejected Writers' Book Club

Here is the overview from the back cover. It really is a delightful book, I hope you take a few minutes to download the ebook or paperback. It is totally worth your time.

When small-town librarian Janet Johnson is persuaded to attend a gathering of local eccentric lady writers known as "The Rejected Writers Book Club," she gets pulled into a kaleidoscope of craziness she never knew existed.

Collecting publishers' rejection letters like trophies this quirky society cares nothing for being in print and instead meets to celebrate in style it's members' mutually spurned manuscripts.

However, when disaster strikes, the group's survival hangs in the balance, and Janet is coerced by their formidable team leader, Doris Newberry, onto a crazy cross-country dash with a band of merry writers to save the club.

As the intrepid adventurers race to complete their quest, the women's lives are irreversibly changed as they bond together through landslides, haunted houses, false labor, and first love.



Here is a little watery story she wrote that fits nicely into the Blondie in the Water blog theme and an excellent description on what it feels like to be a writer.

Jumping off a Cliff and Shouting Wheeee!


When I was in my 20's, I had an incredible experience while I was working and living in Spain. I drove out to the lakes in mountains of southern Spain and leapt from a high cliff into the clear blue waters 20 feet below.

Now you are probably thinking, so what? But for me, a confirmed acrophobic, who likes her feet planted firmly on the ground at all times, it took a couple of glasses of wine and a lot of coaxing from my dare-devil friends on that trip.

I still remember as I stepped out into absolutely nothingness, the sheer fear that raced through my entire body, only to be followed by acute feeling of exhilaration and the need to scream “wheeeee” about halfway down.

Being a writer can sometimes feel a bit like that.  I think one of a writer’s greatest thrills is to have the work read aloud to them, and one of a writer’s greatest fears is to have their work read aloud to them.

I have had exactly that very experience in a darkened black box theatre on a Sunday afternoon one December in North Hollywood.

It had been just about a month before when I had received the exciting news, that my script “Illusion” had not only placed in the top three in comedy category, but it had been judged by Scott Rosenfelt (producer, “Home Alone”) as the best overall script of the competition.

To say I was ecstatic is an understatement, there was dancing and hooting and hollering as I read the email titled “congratulations.” It outlined in great detail the girth of exciting prizes that I would now be receiving including my main prize, a staged reading of my script by professional actors in a theatre in LA.  My husband was practically packing before I finished reading out the sentence to him.

As the weekend of the reading approached, all I could think about was a nice sunny weekend break in California in December with my family and my writing partner who was joining me for moral support. And to be honest I didn’t give the actual read through an awful lot of thought, until the morning of the event.

It was about the time I was staring down at my California breakfast that I realized a group of strangers were about to read my script, out loud, to people.  What if it wasn’t funny? Or the story was flat, or it didn’t make any sense!

It didn’t seem to occur to me during this inner dialogue that if the producer of “Home Alone,’ one of the most successful Christmas movies of all time, liked it, and then maybe it wasn’t so bad. This thought didn’t occur to me because the dreaded writer’s curse of self-doubt had leapt up at me from my scrambled eggs like Jaws and wasn’t about to let me go.

So there we were an hour later, in this lovely black box called “The Rose Theatre” in Burbank.  We walked inside, and as we did I overheard the actors talking to each other about their characters, my characters, discussing them at great length as if they were real. And it was right then I had that leap in my consciousness.

I had created something that was about to become real; brought to life by these actors, and the rush was intoxicating. So, I just couldn’t help myself as we settled into to the darkened theater and the stage manager read the words, “fade in…” and started the first line of my script; my 5-year-old self couldn’t help but gather herself for a story. So what if it was mine, this experience was exciting.

I did the expected “writer” thing as they read for 90 minutes. I took notes and outlined text that didn’t work in my copy of the script, but honestly all I could think the whole time was about the amazing journey I was on with a group of people who seemed to actually like the story, they laughed, they cried, and at the end they clapped and then I cried.

Yes, it was intimidating, and yes it was incredible, but more than anything it was real, and it was my work and now as the actors claimed their characters it was their’s too.

And as I watched the audience react and enjoy it, I found myself thinking there is nothing more exhilarating then leaping off a cliff with absolute fear and half way down finding yourself needing to shout wheee!!!!

Please connect with Suzanne at her links.
Book Trailer: 





 Connect with KJ Waters



When I'm not working on the Stealing Time series you can find me on my social media at the links below. My novel is out on amazon here.

I am also the CEO of Blondie's Custom Book Covers, a company that helps authors and publishers create stunning book covers. Please follow our links here.
  • Check out our website here.
  • We are on twitter here.



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Sunday, March 15, 2015

Chris Sanders - Author Spotlight Blondie's Books From Friends (BFF)

Chris Sanders -- Author Spotlight on Blondie's Books From Friends


Be sure and follow my blog for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card. I will choose a winner on April 1st. Stealing Time will be in paperback and in other outlets like Barnes and Noble and iTunes in the next week. I'll be sure and update you with links and details as soon as I have more information. Stay tuned. In the meantime, check out my latest Author Spotlight.  


Chris Sanders
This week’s Author Spotlight features a dashing fellow from south London, Chris Sanders, and his novel the Thief’s Son. This is Chris’ first novel and since he has written a collection of short horror stories called The Folly and Other Tales.

I met Chris on Facebook and he’s been a great support of my first novel, Stealing Time. He’s always posting pictures that remind me of Humphrey Bogart and classic Hollywood films, so I’m expecting that his novel will have the international mystery and feeling of simpler times.

Chris has travelled extensively and layers an international flair in his fast-paced, edgy thrillers. He was an English teacher in South Korea and prior to that was a realtor in Manila, Philippines, and spent some time as a freelance journalist, and explored Eastern Europe and the Far East.   
Along with two novels, Chris has also written three high-concept screenplays and a radio play for the BBC new writer’s project.

Show some love and connect with Chris

Website: www.chrissanderswriter.com
Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/The-Thiefs-Son-Chris-Sanders-ebook/dp/B00A7V8MRU
Twitter  : www.twitter.com@CSanderswriter 
 Facebook  www.facebook.com/chrisshanesanders

Here is an excerpt from his thriller novel, 

The Thief’s Son

  
Room number six was just like any other cheap room he'd found whilst staying in a small

town Colombia. Nothing special. Apart from the bed and washbasin, only a towel, a tiny piece of used soap and a roll of toilet paper existed. The toilet, Samuel knew, would be hidden somewhere down a dimly lit corridor that he had no intention of locating until it became imperative to do so.

He fell against the hard mattress, letting his arm drape across his face, but woke when he heard the telephone ringing, only deciding to find the machine when its ring persisted.

“Yes...Who is this?”

“You pay for phone calls too English, okay?” the owner barked down the line.

“Fine,” Samuel replied, replacing the receiver and stuffing the ancient contraption back under the bed where he'd found it. He'd been asleep for perhaps an hour, when, upon waking he'd found his cramped quarters filled with dark shadows. As he struggled out of bed, threw open the wooden shutters, a long, narrow street with no sunlight faced him.

Halfway down this street, as he looked to the right, he spotted a second hotel. Only this one seemed to be doing a lot more business. A wild succession of flashing lights blazed out from each of its windows and deep inside loud Vallenato folk music and frenzied conversation spilled onto the street. A fiesta was brewing. The Colombians loved their parties. Even with their country in such a terrible state they still knew how to enjoy themselves, a testament to their national character.

Further down the street a large crowd of people had gathered, and were now making their way towards the two hotels, each of them boasting a silleta full of flowers on their back. Hard though he tried Samuel couldn't remember the name of this particular festival, but he remembered seeing larger versions while staying in bigger cities like Medellin to the north. Soon fireworks would be lit, there would be more music, more noise. Samuel checked his watch. It would be early morning back in London, and sooner or later he'd have to find the courage and phone his editor, who'd been expecting him back for over a week now. He sat back on the bed, dragged the phone from its hiding place, and began to tap in the numbers.

“Yeah?” a gruff voice – his editor’s voice – answered after almost thirty, very long seconds.

“John…”

“Who's this?”

Samuel hesitated. He could still hang up, think up a list of watertight excuses and perhaps save himself a shed load of grief.

“Who the hell is this?” the gruff voice continued down the line.

Samuel knew he should have waited until lunch was over. His boss had usually downed a few pints by then, and generally behaved like a rational human being for the rest of the day,

“It's Samuel...Samuel Locke.”

A pause. The line crackled.

“I said it's Samuel...Samuel Locke,” he repeated.

“Not the young man we sent to Colombia? The little creep who was due back over two weeks ago?”

“I’m afraid so, John.”

“So where the hell are you? Have the rebels stopped their fighting?”

“I have your shots, John.”

“Oh, you have my photographs hey?”

“Decent shots too, you're going to love them, I promise.”

“Well do I get to see them sometime soon Samuel? We don't want to rush you or anything but you've already missed the last two deadlines!”

Leaving the bed, Samuel leant against the window frame, phone caught between shoulder and chin as he sparked up a cigarette, watching as the parade below began to pass by the second hotel.

“I'll be back first thing Monday, John.”

“First thing Monday? It's Tuesday today Sammy boy!”

“I know, but there's not a whole lot I can do about the situation.”

That was a lie. There was a whole lot he could do. He estimated a crowd of maybe a hundred people gathering below his window. He could sink a few beers himself. Chase a few girls. Hell, this was Colombia. LoColombia. He could do anything he wanted.

“You still there Samuel?”

“Yeah, I'm still here John,” Samuel replied, taking a long, slow drag on his dying cigarette.

“Your job’s on the line Sammy. Don't care how good you think you are. We run a team effort here. No room for loners. You understand?”

“I understand.”

They could stick the job. He was good enough to earn a tidy sum working freelance. He took risks. He liked to take risks. The picture libraries loved him. One day, damn it, he'd own his very own picture library. He was still young. He could still make it big. He was still in control of his own destiny. To hell with the lousy magazine.
“You out of money yet?”

“I still got enough to get back.”

“Good, because we can't afford to finance your lavish life style any more. You got that Samuel?”

“Every word John, every word.”
Samuel was still looking out the window as he'd replied, only now his eyes were sharp, searching. He'd seen something, someone out of place. More than that. He'd recognized a face, a face from his distant past. His unhappy past.

“Sammy? You still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm still here.”

“Now don't you go ignoring me! Don't you even dare!”

Samuel wasn't listening. His eyes were stuck on the passing parade. He'd caught a glimpse of a figure, a, lean figure mingling in amongst the growing mob down below. A figure that stood painfully out of place in comparison to those who surrounded him, pushed into him: A very tall old man who wore a loose, white cotton suit.

“Samuel! Answer me damn it!” the voice at the end of the line continued to rave.     Again, Samuel ignored it, waiting for the crowd to part, to reveal its hidden visitor for a second time.

The crowd did part. Samuel let his cigarette slip from his mouth and fall to the room’s grubby tiles, his keen eyes still following the old man as he'd quickly ducked through the packed doorway of the second hotel.

“Dad...” he then whispered, his face pressed up against the window.

“Sammy, Sammy! I know you can hear me, what the hell are you playing at?”

“I have to go now John...See you Tuesday.”

“Don't hang up on me Samuel, and it's Monday damn it! You come back Monday!” Slowly, Samuel replaced the receiver.


Connect With KJ Waters


When I'm not working on the Stealing Time series you can find me on my social media at the links below. My novel is out on amazon here.

I am also the CEO of Blondie's Custom Book Covers, a company that helps authors and publishers create stunning book covers. Please follow our links here.
  • Check out our website here.
  • We are on twitter here.



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Monday, March 2, 2015

Carlie M. A. Cullen Author Spotlight -- Blondie's Books From Friends(BFF)

Blondie’s Books from Friends Author Spotlight on Carlie M A Cullen


Carlie M.A. Cullen
Today I bring you another Brit, Carlie M A Cullen, who writes fantasy and paranormal romance novels. I’ve seen Carlie out and about on facebook and twitter for several years now. She had been a great help with book selling advice and general social media blitz information. Today Carlie will entertain us with a short sad little story called Underwater. Please welcome Carlie to the watery oasis of Blondie in the Water, and maybe we can cheer her up with a few new follows and purchase of her exciting series, Heart Search.


Want a chance to win another $25 Amazon Gift Card? Follow my blog and your name will be entered into the drawing. One winner this month will be chosen on April Fools Day!

Underwater

I am drowning!

No, not literally; not like when I was five years old. I was on holiday in Jersey with my parents and my Dad was playing ball in the swimming pool with my cousins. The ball came out and onto the side, and as I threw it back, I also threw myself in – at the deep end. Yes, you’ve guessed it – I couldn’t swim at the time – my Dad pulled me out, coughing and spluttering. The proverbial drowned rat. But I digress.
Drowning by Kevron2001 Deviant Art 

I am drowning in a sea of grief.

The waves crash over my head, dragging me deeper, catching me in the strong currents of sorrow. I tumble over and over, hitting my head on the beautiful coral; cuts ooze with my life blood attracting sharks. They circle around me, closing in for the kill and all I can think of is joining my Mum, ending the in exhaustive pain of her passing. Even if the sharks take their time, biting a bit off here and there, it would be nothing in comparison.

Fish of all colours and sizes dart past as the riptide keeps me submerged; I see them eye me with mild curiosity as they journey on, but I’m blind to the magnificent colours and sleek lines.
Very little has held my interest recently; I fail to appreciate the wondrous sights Mother Nature puts on display. Even now, in the clear depths of the ocean, glimpsing some of Her incredible work, I’m too blind to see.

As I’m catapulted ever deeper by the awesome power of the tide, ancient rocks stand and greet me. I shake hands with each one and am repaid by the shattering of my bones. Pressure builds in my chest, my lungs are on fire, my head woozy from lack of oxygen, yet it won’t take me or let me go.

I start to sink to the bottom. I can no longer see the crested waves crashing above me, nor can I hear the screeching gulls. It’s quiet deep underwater. But, for me, it’s not peaceful – it can’t be while I’m drowning in my misery. It’s too fresh, the wounds too open, the cuts too deep in my heart.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to swim to the surface. Maybe one day I’ll emerge from the darkness of the depths and smile as the sun dries the multitude of tears I’ve shed. Maybe one day I’ll once more appreciate all the beauty the world has to offer. Maybe one day I’ll stop mourning.

Maybe . . .

Carlie’s Books

Check out the Heart Search Series, by Carlie M. A. Cullen

Heart Search Book One: Lost

Book Buy Link: http://smarturl.it/HeartSearch-Lost

Trailer link; http://youtu.be/0ka3RqYeKoQ

One bite starts it all . . .

When Joshua Grant vanishes days before his wedding his fiancée Remy is left with only bruises, scratch marks and a hastily written note. Heartbroken, she sets off alone to find him and begins a long journey where strange things begin to happen.

As Joshua descends into his new immortal life he indulges his thirst for blood and explores his superhuman strength and amazing new talents while becoming embroiled in coven politics which threaten to destroy him. But Remy discovers a strength of her own on her quest to bring Joshua home.

Fate toys with mortals and immortals alike, as two hearts torn apart by darkness face ordeals which test them to their limits.

Heart Search Book Two: Found

Book Buy Link:  http://smarturl.it/HeartSearch-Found

Trailer link:  
http://youtu.be/3DSssMGyA1E

One bite started it all . . .

Another mysterious disappearance sparks a frightening chain of events for Remy and her family. Events foretold come to pass, and more strange and alarming occurrences assail her life. Where can she turn?

Coven politics continue to threaten Joshua’s existence, but an even bigger menace looms. 

And Remy’s life hangs in the balance – can Joshua save her? 

Fate still toys with mortals and immortals alike, as hearts torn apart by darkness confront perils which could lead to their doom.


Heart Search book 3: Betrayal

Link: http://hyperurl.co/HeartSearch-Betrayal

Trailer link: 

http://youtu.be/OtoJwwxtPak


One bite started it all . . . 

Joshua, Remy, and the twins are settled in their new life. However, life doesn’t always run smoothly. An argument between Becky and her twin causes unforeseen circumstances, an admission by Samir almost costs him his life, and the traitor provides critical information to Liam. But who is it? 

As Jakki’s visions begin to focus on the turncoat’s activities, a member of the coven disappears, and others find themselves endangered. 

And when Liam’s coven attacks, who will endure? 

Fate continues to toy with mortals and immortals alike, and as more hearts descend into darkness, can they overcome the dangers they face and survive? 

Connect with Carlie M A Cullen

Website: http://carliemacullen.com

Twitter: @carlie2011c

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/CarlieMACullen

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=240655941&trk=nav_responsive_tab_profile

Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B009MWVL5A

About.me: http://about.me/CarlieCullen

Wattpad: http://www.wattpad.com/user/CarlieCullen

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6550466.Carlie_M_A_Cullen



CONNECT WITH KJ WATERS
When I'm not working on the Stealing Time series you can find me on my social media at the links below. My novel is out on amazon here.

· Check out my website: www.kjwaters.com· Follow me on twitter at @kamajowa· I'm on facebook at
· http://www.facebook.com/pages/KJ-Waters/206720056103502 for my author site, or my 'jury-rigged work around so I can like you back' facebook page here: http://www.facebook.com/kj.waters.39· I have some photographs up on Fine Arts America at: http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/kj-waters.html for sale, check it out!· Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/kamajowa/· Audioboo voice messages: http://audioboo.fm/KJWaters · All About Me page: http://about.me/kjwaters· Brand Yourself Profile: http://brandyourself.com/

I am also the CEO of Blondie's Custom Book Covers, a company that helps authors and publishers create stunning book covers. Please follow our links here.

· Check out our website here.
· We are on twitter here.

· Facebook link here.
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Monday, February 23, 2015

David Perlmutter Author Spotlight -- Blondie's Books From Friends

The winner from my $25 Amazon gift card giveaway is Elisha Chirchir! Congrats! Please follow my blog and leave a comment for another chance to win. 

Blondie's Books From Friends (BFF) Author Spotlight on David Perlmutter


David P Perlmutter
Author, Marketeer 
This week on my author spotlight I bring you an international sensation, David Perlmutter, and his debut biographical book Wrong Place Wrong Time. It is based on David’s trip to Marbella, Spain, with its promise of adventure and fun. Instead, he found the most terrifying time of his life.

 It is the #1 best seller in True Crime in the US, Australia, India and Spain, #3 in the UK. Overall on Amazon he ranks top 50 across Amazon in Drama and Biography. You don’t get 232 five-star reviews without a killer book. Find out for yourself here on Amazon. 

Indie Marketing Book available here

 It was inevitable that I run into David on social media because he is EVERYWHERE! If you’re an indie author you need to take a few pointers from David, his marketing machine is quite impressive and it is paying off big time. 

He has a little book about that called My Way and you can find it here. I’m reading it now and my mother in law is a non-fiction reader and she is getting Wrong Place Wrong Time for her birthday. Shhh, don’t tell her. It’s on Friday!


 Here are the ways you can connect with David:

facebook https://www.facebook.com/wrongplacewrongtimebook
Twitter @davepperlmutter
Pin http://www.pinterest.com/dpp993/pins/
Blog http://thewrongplaceatthewrongtime.blogspot.co.uk/

WRONG PLACE WRONG TIME



 WRONG PLACE WRONG TIME is a gripping true-life story of an unimaginable nightmare and how my ticket to a new life turns out to be a one-way ticket to hell. 


Excerpt from Wrong Place, Wrong Time


Slowly, I made my way to the beach. It was deserted apart from a handful of joggers out for an early morning run and a few old-timers enjoying the quiet time before the onslaught of tourists would emerge. The sand was soft, but felt damp and uninviting from the morning dew. I slumped onto it, pulling my legs towards my chest, my ribs throbbing with every move and jolt. Looking around, I spotted Chico’s in the distance - the bar where I’d met Kelvin and his brother on my second day. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Back then I’d felt young and free, looking at the world through expectant eyes, but right then, on that beach, I felt as old as the trees. I scanned the beach, looking for The Son of Elvis, my American friend. A friendly face, a shoulder to lean on and a much needed hit of a strong joint to sooth the pain would have been wonderful, but I couldn’t see him or Hound Dog anywhere.

I sat staring out to sea and felt the soft ocean breeze drift towards me. The sea was a beautiful colour but I couldn't identify it. Was it aquamarine? I counted the waves, each one becoming stronger, and watched the seventh one crash against the shore. The golden rays of sun burned through the last remaining white cloud in the sky and it was such a welcome feeling that I uncurled myself and stretched out on the sand. My ribs throbbed but I lay there waiting for the sun to work its magic and heal me. A little while later, and somewhat soothed, I shed my clothes, placed them on the sand and bathed in the sea for as long as I could manage.

I emerged feeling cleansed and sunk into the warmth and softness of the sand. Closing my eyes, my thoughts turned to my family, and a tear trickled from the corner of my eye. I was lonely, tired and in pain and would have given anything to magic myself back home – to have Mum fussing around me, making me tea and toast. I had neither money nor food, my belongings were out of reach and I had no return ticket to the UK. In fact my only possessions were my passport and the clothes on my back.

I must have fallen asleep for some time because when I awoke, it was to the gentle hum of conversation, and I found myself surrounded by holiday makers unpacking their bags, stripping off their clothes and laying their towels on the sand. The muted hues of the desolate beach a few hours earlier had transformed into a blur of colour and I lay there for a while, my eyes picking out the greens, oranges and pinks of swimwear. 

 There was a blonde nearby rubbing oil into her skin and I watched her, mesmerized, as she rubbed and massaged it up and down the length of her legs. She was amazingly toned and had I been a photographer, I’d have positioned her in the exact spot she was standing in - with the sun to her side, highlighting the small dragon tattoo on her inner left thigh.  When she removed her bikini top and produced a pair of beautiful, natural breasts that bounced every time she moved, I couldn’t help but feel aroused. I shifted onto my side to make it a little less obvious, but I carried on watching her. Being discreet had never been one of my strong points, and when she started to oil up her breasts, it was obvious that she was doing it for her audience. She seductively rubbed them - her left, then her right - and then, as if to rub it in even more, she tweaked her nipples. 

 For a moment I actually believed I was in with a chance - and that just intensified the stirring in my boxer shorts - but it was short-lived. Her equally beautiful boyfriend appeared, took hold of the oil and began massaging it into her back. I turned away at that point, thinking about what a lucky bastard he was, and as my erection subsided I wondered if I’d get the opportunity to meet someone of my own. As much as I tried to put her out of my mind, I couldn’t help but think of Rosa.

Bored with the beach, I decided to leave the beautiful couple to it and take a walk into the main town of Marbella. The streets were busy with tourists searching for gifts to take back to loved ones and the cafes were full of people having a late breakfast or an early lunch. As the smell of fried bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, I tried to ignore my hunger and wandered aimlessly around the town wondering where my next meal would come from and where I’d be sleeping that night.

CONNECT WITH KJ WATERS

When I'm not working on the Stealing Time series you can find me on my social media at the links below. My novel is out on amazon here.

· Check out my website: www.kjwaters.com· Follow me on twitter at @kamajowa· I'm on facebook at
· http://www.facebook.com/pages/KJ-Waters/206720056103502 for my author site, or my 'jury-rigged work around so I can like you back' facebook page here: http://www.facebook.com/kj.waters.39· I have some photographs up on Fine Arts America at: http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/kj-waters.html for sale, check it out!· Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/kamajowa/· Audioboo voice messages: http://audioboo.fm/KJWaters · All About Me page: http://about.me/kjwaters· Brand Yourself Profile: http://brandyourself.com/

I am also the CEO of Blondie's Custom Book Covers, a company that helps authors and publishers create stunning book covers. Please follow our links here.

· Check out our website here.
· We are on twitter here.
· Facebook link here.
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