Yesterday I finally received the print copies of my latest release, A Ruthless Good. I was busy doing some major cleaning in a spare bedroom and didn't even realize the books had been delivered. I took a break to get my mail and there were the boxes on the front porch. I didn't open them right away but went back to my cleaning.
Then when I was ready to sit down and get back to my WIP, I finally opened the boxes. There it was, my work in print again. A book in my hands, everyword my own. The dedication in the front and bio in the back, all my own creation. I have three books already released and four more under contract. Will it ever get old? Will the thrill of holding those books in my hands go away? I hope not. Even if I eventually sell over a hundred books, I hope I still get excited to open those boxes and lift out the first, perfect shining copy.
My romance books sell more in ebook format than they do in print and maybe someday all books will be ebooks. I don't think that will happen during my writing career. I expect to savor more boxes of books and the scent that wafts up when I cut away that packing tape. Now all I have to do is figure out what I'll do with this cover during booksignings. I'm not sure how it would go over in a library.