It also helps not to be shy, but to ask after things you feel are important. I wanted some special formatting--nothing too extensive, but enough to give the impression of programs, marquis, "Tweets" (I made a new system called Blabber), and Kim was not only willing but enjoyed doing them--however, the requests I'd made in the manuscript had been deleted at some point in the editing process, and she didn't know I'd asked for them until she mentioned she was putting the e-book into formatting, and I asked her about them.
Close relationships like this is one of the advantages of working with a small press. I Left My Brains in San Francisco comes out September 1st. If you like e-books, I highly suggest getting it from the Damnation Books website that day, as they do a special promotional the first day called variable pricing: The first copy sold is free, and the price increases by 25 cents for each copy afterward until full price is reached. That's the first day only. I'd LOVE to see my book get to full price before the day's end.
Let me leave you with an excerpt. (Please note the full scene is longer):
Survival Hardware hadn’t seen such a rush of customers since the last Armageddon prediction coincided with Black Friday.
Manager Clint Sanders rubbed his hands with glee. Oh, Marley, if only you hadn’t gotten drunk and decided to go zombie hunting. Was it only last Christmas?
He hurried to Customer Service, crafting an announcement in his mind. “You want to live! We want to live! That’s why you are going to file calmly to the back if you need a suit.”
Yeah. Sense of urgency, plus that “We’re in this together” crap.
He got to the counter and nodded at Bitsy, who had rung up a chainsaw and a half-crate of bleach.
God bless survivors. Clint continued to the back. Out of habit, he checked the exit door, even though it was always locked from the outside. He needed to delete Marley's old code from it.
He cleared his throat. “Listen up! You want to live! We want to live!”
The exit door clicked.
“That’s impossible!” he declared. The store fell silent.
“Boss?” Bitsy’s voice ended in a squeak.
“That’s not what I meant! Security team to customer service!”
He reached under the counter for a shotgun. Bitsy grabbed the chainsaw. They had filled them that morning—another example of the excellent service at Survival Hardware.
The door swung open, and the zombiefied remains of his late business partner, Marley, staggered through.
Clint to blasted him with the shotgun. The impact knocked the Marley out the door.
Clint used the gunsight to scan the parking lot. “He brought friends! Call Nine-One-One. I’m putting this place on shutdown.”
“Screw that! I’ve been prepping all my life for this!” With a howl of challenge, Bitsy dashed out the door. She swung low and decapitated her former boss before moving on.
Thundering footsteps signaled the customers following in her wake.
He gaped at the carnage while Dirk called 9-1-1. It’d be too late by the time they got there. All that’d be left was to clean up the zombie parts and get the customers back in to pay.
God bless survivors.