Fireborn Mission Statement...
We intend to be the best publisher we can be. We will deal fairly with our authors and our readers, be responsive, and offer the best product we can, at reasonable prices. Fireborn Publishing is a staff-owned business with a cooperative mindset. The collective owners will put the authors first, the growth of the company and reader relationship second, and ourselves last.
Fireborn Publishing Promises...
Fireborn Publishing promises to authors that we will...
1. …be true to the EPIC Code of Conduct for publishers. 2. …pay authors first…always. Owner pay comes out of the budget last. We will not spend money until authors are paid. Period. When the opportunity arises, we will reinvest money in growing the business. 3. …consider all suggestions brought to us seriously, at a monthly meeting between owner staff, whether the suggestions come from authors, editors, or readers. 4. …allow our staff to do what they do best, within their budgets, without micromanagement. 5. …departments support other departments as much as we can. Streamlining the job for everyone lightens the load. 6. …help our authors to promote/market their work to the best of our ability, teach new authors to promote/market themselves, and be available to answer all questions authors have. 7. …write and maintain an ebook for authors, giving answers to commonly-asked questions, and maintain active communication between authors and contacts in the individual departments. 8. ...Maintain PDF copies of royalty reports and book copies online, so authors can download their copies, in perpetuity.
Friday, February 27, 2015
New Release from Fireborn today
New release available today from Fireborn Publishing! Hand Job by Spencer Dryden contemporary erotic romance $0.99 in ebook
Jack Reed is a thirty-something handyman
and aspiring erotic fiction writer with fantasies about Jodie, a
barista at the coffee shop where he writes every day.
His dreams begin to materialize when
Jodie offers him a quick palm reading, hinting at sex with her. She
invites Jack to her boutique for a more complete session. Her reading
predicts Jack's artisan hands will be pleasing to a woman. Their session
interrupted, she invites him to her house that evening for further
Uncertain of Jodie's intentions, but
drawn by her allure, Jack goes to her house expecting additional
interpretation in exchange for handyman work. What he receives is far
more than he bargained for.
"You have such interesting hands," Jodie said, as she wiped my table. "You should let me do a palm reading sometime."
Her comment caught me by surprise, but her pale blue eyes drew me in, as they always did.
"What would that tell me?" I struggled to hold back the sarcasm.
"A lot about your future," she said, whisking my doughnut crumbs away.
"I could use some good news right now." I turned my palm up toward her.
"Not here," she said. "Come to my shop. I do readings on Saturdays."
"You have a life outside this coffee shop?"
"I do. This job earns me money while I build up my practice."
She reached into the back pocket of her tight fitting, low slung jeans, and produced a rumpled card.
"I guess I can relate," I said.
"Handyman work supports my writing jones." I pointed to the tablet
holding my latest scrawling. "But I thought gypsies were supposed to
have dark eyes, black hair and..." I choked on the words.
"And big breasts," she said, turning her nearly flat chest toward me. "All that's true, but I've been trained by the best."
"Well, can you give me a little sample?" I asked, teasing, stretching my hand further in her direction.
She put down the dishrag, took my
fingers, and traced a line in the center of my palm with her fingernail.
It sent sparks through my body, directly to my groin. She broke into a
lusty grin, her eyes dilated.
She leaned down to my ear and melted me
with her hot, whispering breath. "You have a big cock and it's going to
make someone happy, soon."
She turned abruptly and headed back to
the counter area. I could only imagine how stupid I looked. The heat of
my embarrassment turned my face into a red bulb. It was quickly replaced
by the surge of lust I felt whenever I watched her walking away, her
firm ass rippling atop her long, slender legs. How often I imagined
those legs wrapped around me. I looked at my palm in disbelief.
How is it that women can say such outrageous things and get away with them? In my stories, I felt perfectly comfortable having my male characters say outrageous things to get a woman's attention. But I write fantasy.