For self-published authors like me, hiring a cover designer is crucial. Unless I want to make everything myself with my questionable design skills. I do not want this in the slightest, but I’ve paid various prices for results of varying quality and sometimes it’s very hit and miss.
So some of my covers are unfortunately made by me. But I’ve found a designer I like and am slowly updating my catalogue. This is the new cover for One Little Lie, and there’s also an excerpt from the book that is probably more appealing than my brief discussion of cover woes.
And here’s a small hint that you may want to buy this book now. You may want to buy this book now. Hint, hint. Because with this spiffy cover and an upcoming box set, I’ll eventually change the price back to $2.99. Once the box set for the first four books in this series is out, this one is going back to regular price. Though I guess you could also wait and get the boxset. Because then you get more books for less. You have options, I guess that’s the point.
Here’s the new cover:
In this scene, boyfriends Ryan and Luke are getting ready for a double date.
Luke acted like a contestant in a beauty pageant, obsessing over his outfit.
He faced away from me but glared through the mirror in front of him. “Ryan, stop laughing and tell me which one of these shirts makes my eyes pop!”
I giggled helplessly while Luke directed his gaze to the two shirts in question. He held them up to his chest one at a time while deciding.
“Baby, you look good in anything.” Sure, my tone still sounded at least 20% sarcastic but that was my baseline.
He scoffed, unimpressed with my answer. “Stop being a weirdo.”
“I’m a weirdo for you,” I cooed. Teasing was the only option to avoid combusting into a puddle of hormones and fondness.
“You do realize this might be the only time I ask you for fashion advice?”
Well played. “Wear the red one.”
Luke frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, moron, I’m sure.”
Hey, could moron be Luke’s pet name?
He held the chosen shirt up in front of the mirror and nodded decisively. “Thank you.” A serious look crossed his face and he turned to me. “Your pet name for me is not going to be moron.” He turned towards the mirror again to fuss with his hair.
Wow, had we become so in sync we thought alike? Maybe we developed a psychic connection. Probably the first one. Just to be sure, I should double check.
I concentrated on thoughts of Luke’s ass. “What am I thinking about?”
“My ass,” he answered without hesitation.
“You are psychic,” I marveled.
“I can feel and see you staring at my ass.” He met my eyes in the mirror with a laugh.