If you're anything like me, you believe that book
signings are a splashy celebration rather than a mere exchange of books. Over
the years, I’ve discovered a twist to make my signings an absolute blast and
more personable: DIY book swag! So, let’s dive right in, shall we?
Casting
the Perfect Net: Choosing the Inner Treasure
I buy plain tins from the dollar store then start my
journey. Every book is a unique universe with its own celestial bodies, waiting
to be discovered. And to make that universe even more tangible to my readers, I
choose special treats relevant to my latest release to sit inside my DIY tins.
For my upcoming maritime adventure, 'War of the
Sea,' what could be more fitting than Swedish Fish candies? Sweet, colorful,
and oh-so-fishy, these little treats are an instant hit. I’ve also used mermaid
taffy tails.
Adorning
the Vessel: Crafting the Perfect Tin
Now here's where the real fun begins. With each tin,
I get the chance to paint a mini masterpiece that perfectly encapsulates the
essence of my book. Because I’m not the artist I’d love to be, I do use a
stencil.
For 'War of the Sea,' I chose to paint a siren's
tail on the top of each tin, glimmering against the background like a gem of
the sea. It's a sight that would lure any sailor—or reader—into the heart of
the tale.
Riding
the Wave of Memories
The magic of these DIY book swag tins isn't just in
the making—it’s in the lasting splash they make in the readers' minds. I also
add a QR sticker on the bottom of each tin, taking the reader to my website
and/or newsletter to give me the opportunity to keep the relationship alive. Once
the candy is gone, the readers can reuse their tins for jewelry or office
supplies but this tin becomes a keepsake reminding them not only of my book,
but the memory of meeting at the book signing.
This is no ordinary craft project. This is an
experience, a part of the adventure, a lingering trace of the story that
extends beyond the boundaries of the book.
Creating DIY book swag tins has really amped up the
fun at my signings. It's my special way to celebrate my stories and to give my
readers a keepsake that keeps them hooked—long after they've turned the last
page.
So, to my fellow authors out there, I say: Dive into
the DIY book swag tide! It's a truly splashtastic way to keep your readers
afloat in your story’s world.
Excerpt:
Our mouths met once again, hungry and desperate, as I lifted her into my arms. Her chemise rose and bunched in between us. My palms cupped her exposed thighs, urging them to encircle my waist. I walked us backward to the bed, never breaking our kiss, and slowly lowered her down, careful to bear my weight against my forearm. I savored the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with mine, as her fingers wove into my hair. Pleasure and pain radiated through my scalp as she pulled the ends with her iron grip, her moans urging me on. With my free hand, I explored her, tracing the lines of her neck, the softness of her breasts. Her body arched in response, a silent plea for more.
I continued my journey, my hand tracing the curve of her hip, slipping beneath her knee, and wrapping her leg around me once more. The connection between us grew stronger, an unspoken understanding that we were meant to be entwined, a meeting of souls. And then, with a surge of anticipation, I pressed into her, feeling her heat and the electric pulse of our bodies against one another.
She pulled back, her eyes locking onto mine, reflecting a hunger and longing that mirrored my own. A mischievous smile played upon her lips as her fingers toyed with the button on my trousers. But before she undid it, I heard a noise. Footsteps.
“It’s probably a good idea to tell you both I’m in the room.” Smitter’s voice sounded somewhere behind me, way too close to the bed, to us.
I jumped backward, lost my balance, and stumbled to the floor. My rear landed hard. Lou swathed herself in a wad of sheets.
“I had hoped you’d come up for air, but there’s really no good way to interrupt.” He waved in between us.
“I’m going to kill you,” I growled from the floor. Out of all the times my uncle had popped in and out of a room, this had to be the most invasive and humiliating.
“Why would you …? I can’t— Don’t you ever do that again,” Lou shouted, horrified. Her hands balled around the sheets. Flushed like a sunburned noble, she volleyed her gaze between me, half clothed on the floor, and Smitter. Her knotted hair stuck up on top of her head.
“Yes, I realize it’s not great timing, but the two of you need your rest. We drop anchor tomorrow on the perimeter of Anthemusa. The men have already been moved to the soundproof rooms. And we need to strategize how you’ll slay the Siren Queen, now that our first plan is no longer viable.” Smitter’s concerned brown eyes found mine. “Also, your aunt said this isn’t the right time for”—he swirled a finger in our general direction—“this.”
Lou’s brows contorted. “What? Who is your aunt?” She gaped at me.
I waved Lou off. Aunt Artemis, the goddess of childbirth, would know when Lou should abstain, but I wasn’t about to have that conversation. I bent my knees, resting my elbows on my thighs, and rubbed my temples. My family had truly outdone themselves. Not a single boundary nor a clue as to how their incessant involvement could be a nuisance.
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