Social Media. Social media is a great way to promote stories and find an audience. Building a following on social media platforms is a viable promotional tool. Using Social media for paid advertisements is also a good idea if you're talented or can outsource.
I know it's been said, "Don't constantly post your book's link everywhere. It's spam." While it's true, it's also a lie. Book links shouldn't be all you post about, but they should be posted.
You want to build an audience, and they want to be entertained. So excerpts, videos, and images are important, but let's not downplay posting links. They're one hundred percent required in overabundance if one expects to locate new readers and sell books.
Consider name brands such as Coca-Cola, Johnson & Johnson, Walmart, etc. They all advertise their name, products, location, slogans, and more. They advertise so much they've become household names. We all taste the cold drink, smell the baby lotion, or hear the slogan about living better in our minds whenever these brand names are mentioned. That wasn't an accident. Repetitive advertisements caused it. So, post stuff, lots of stuff, but post those book links so people can find and buy a book.
I lack the funds to pay for the name recognition Nike and McDonalds enjoy, but if you want to sell books, you must advertise. You must promote and market daily. While you need to be posting about things other than your book links, like excerpts, quotes, characters, art, or even the soundtrack, you must also post book links, lots of them, and all the time. So I do.
#reading #experience #book #Video It's not just a book. It's an experience. Read the excerpt for the secret discount. Then read/listen/watch the story. Don't miss the behind-the-scenes research, original cover art, and inspiration or the sneak peeks. https://opheliakee.com/b/ZWjFS
This promotional tidbit appears on social media frequently. I'd counsel anyone considering this to stick to the platforms you're comfortable with. Too many are too many, but one may not be enough. Automating as much as possible is good. So link your TikTok to your Instagram and upload the short video to YouTube so you can share it from there to Blogger, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest, and LinkedIn. Or whatever combination works for you. It takes time to set all this up so know that going in. These are the ones I use.
Follow Draoithe on Facebook
Follow Ophelia Kee on Facebook
Subscribe to the Ophelia Kee channel on YouTube.
In the interest of total honesty, I'm on Twitter often and Facebook less. I post weekly on YouTube, but only sporadically on others. My Discord is in its infancy and may stay that way. I abandoned LinkedIn and Reddit. Time is always a factor. So I do what I can when I can, but anyone in this game will tell you that won't garner the results you desire.
Social Media Pitfalls
There are issues with using social media that must be handled. Only the user can decide if he or she will allow direct messages, or allow sharing of posts or comments by others. I'm a tiger and have thick skin and ridiculous washes right off of my fur, but mental health matters. Sensitive people should know going in that the internet is full of people wishing to part you from your hard-earned money inappropriately or speak without regard to your humanity. Also, the smut is seriously real. Random inappropriate nude images and videos show up in direct messages and must be deleted. People often forget that social media users are real people and deserve kindness and respect, even if they are faceless and on the other side of a firewall and possibly the world.
A different issue results if your posts accidentally (or not really, but the bot thinks so) violate any community guidelines and your account is disabled either temporarily or permanently. It's important to read the fine print and be careful to stay in your lane. These things only exemplify how social media platforms should be only part of an author's platform.
Newsletters and a website with a storefront are a must. The dream resides at Payhip. I'm published-wide, so I have an indie storefront for all my craziness at OpheliaKee.com. If all my Twitter peeps and Facebook onlookers disappeared tomorrow, readers could still read and purchase books from my site. I also have a direct link to the inbox for those who want to stay up-to-date in the dream with my newsletter. My blog goes live every weekend from Ophelia Kee.com. Maintaining an independent author-controlled space for your stories is likely more important than using social media to your advantage. More about that in a future post.
Shameless Self Promotion
Ghostly Kingdom a Lyons Gate Tale
Lazlo Greyson was a lonely millionaire CEO and descendant of a line of kings. He was finished with gold-digging socialites and seedy one-night stands. He needed something a bit more permanent. Peter Elliot could help him find what he needed, but the man was bad news and Lazlo knew it. When Elliot introduced him to Soraya Heffernon, a beautiful, trained orphan girl, Lazlo was sold.
As Lazlo feared, Elliot had a hidden agenda. The woman he fell in love with wasn’t what he thought she was. Things took a serious turn for the worse and his whole life turned upside down when he landed at Draoithe in need of help from the tiger queen.
Meet the Ghost King of Lyons Gate, a newly crafted outpost kingdom in this spinoff story from the Draoithe saga, and read all the other tales in a single boxed set volume.
Steamy Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy Fated Mates 18+ HEA! NC!
***Warning: Adult Themes, Fantasy Violence, and/or Explicit Sexual Situations. Intended for a Mature Audience.
November Payhip Discount!
Use the Coupon Code: YGBZKG9HXI
and take 20% off
Only for newsletter and blog post subscribers!
Thank you for reading and supporting the dream!
This Week's Snippet Reading
He walked out of the office at noon with no intention of returning until Monday. His Italian leather shoes clicked sharply over the tile in the foyer of the advertising agency he owned as he walked out to the street.
His father started the business, but at his parents’ deaths, Lazlo took over as CEO. He specialized in advertising for high-end resort properties worldwide. Since he took over, the company had done remarkably well.
At six feet three, he towered over most of his employees. He used his wealth and his stature to keep the employees in line and out of his bed. Most were afraid of him.
He was strictly against touching any woman in his office. Lawsuits sucked up profits. He still had a few who tried, but his reputation put most off of that idea.
He toyed idly with visiting a strip club later, just to get relief. Lately, he wasn’t in the mood for a meaningless dalliance. The woman lied just to part him from his money. It was always the same boring, sad routine that ended with him disgusted with both himself and her.
Lazlo was driven to succeed. Losing his father’s legacy wasn’t something he could allow. So a strip club had long been preferable to eyeing any of his employees.
Not that his father had ever really been much of one. He hadn’t been, but what his father did was in Lazlo’s soul.
In the last seven years, he’d expanded and built up a small ad agency. It was his company. At thirty-two, he was still a young CEO, talented, and wealthy beyond anything he’d once imagined possible.
That left him little time for a relationship, and less time to deal with clingy gold digger types. He needed something else. The clubs had lost their allure for him.
He needed something a little more permanent and regular. He needed a submissive woman who could ease the darker cravings he had. Where the hell to find that?
Lazlo needed a woman who gave him what he needed however he wanted and whenever he wanted. One that was beautiful and devoted to him. She needed to carry on a conversation as well.
Dark hair, light eyes, and pretty skin. One that craved his touch and wanted what he needed to do to her, no matter the depravity. That seemed like an impossible dream.
Lazlo wanted to laugh. He was a self-made millionaire. He wore tailored suits, drove expensive cars, lived in luxury, ate the finest food, and drank the best wine.
He was descended from a line of ancient kings, owned the castle ruins, and even wore the double signet ring across the two middle fingers of his right hand to prove it. For all of that, he was lonely. Once again, he toyed with the idea that he could just buy a woman.
Sure, there was a pretty face on his arm at the social functions, but a dirty fuck in a bathroom, a blowjob, or a handjob in the broom closet seemed ridiculous. Was he not too old and too well off for that sort of thing?
There was no way he was taking any of those socialites or high-end escorts home. What he needed, what he was desperate for, was something real. A woman who belonged only to him. Lazlo needed something that was damn near impossible and likely didn’t even exist.
Ever since he’d learned as a kid that he came from a line of Irish kings, he wanted to play king of the castle with a woman as his queen. As a grown man, he knew the fantasy had morphed into a different, darker concept.
He craved dominance and needed to exert force over a submissive. Lazlo needed to see his marks on a woman.
Lazlo had to be in control, and he needed to feel the pain as much as the pleasure. He needed to hurt her and pleasure her at the same time.
He wanted to mix the two and own a woman completely with it. That took time and a willing submissive partner.
The time he had. The other seemed to be in short supply.
Besides addicts which couldn’t tolerate his needs for long, there seemed to be nothing suitable. Sex clubs and strip clubs had become tedious, but necessary. He needed a strong young woman who was disease-free, drug-free and had a healthy lifestyle on top of other things.
Lazlo’s thoughts went in circles as he drove. He parked the Lincoln, didn’t bother locking it, and walked into the private high-end gentlemen’s club that he’d long been a member of as he loosened his silk tie.
He let the tie slide between his fingers that wore the signet ring with the family crest and the capital letters ‘L’ and ‘G’ that stood for Lyons Gate. Most people thought the letters were his initials, but he wasn’t that self-absorbed.
The tie was stripped off and tucked into his pocket in only a few seconds. It was an old habit.
He unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt and rolled his neck to ease the tension as he walked up to the bar to order his scotch on the rocks. Finally, he felt as if he could breathe.
The bartender had his drink ready before he stepped up to the bar. The service was always excellent at the club.
“Would you like your usual cigar, Mr. Greyson?” Lazlo nodded, and the bartender offered him the Cuban.
He took the smoke and the scotch to the quiet relaxation room he preferred. He sank onto the black leather sofa to think.
Lazlo needed a change. Something different. He realized he spent too much time at the club because going home to an empty house was so unappealing that he only wanted to be home when he was asleep. He paid for the place, and might as well use it.
Peter Elliot walked into the room like he owned the place and threatened to ruin the peace that Lazlo had hoped to find. The head of the pharmaceutical company was obnoxious as a drunk and arrogantly irritating when he was sober. Either way, Lazlo truly didn’t like the man.
They often rubbed elbows at the club and social events when Elliot was in Chicago, even if Lazlo would prefer not to do so. Elliot had more money than Lazlo, but at the level of the game they played, the numbers didn’t matter anymore. The thrill of the chase was more important.
He hoped the fool went back to California or anywhere sooner than later. Chicago didn’t need a man like him ruining the nicer spaces. Elliot had enough money and influence that most ignored his behavior, but Elliot felt like low-class trash, even for all his wealth.
Lazlo puffed the cigar. The sweet tobacco head rush felt good. The old scotch only added to it. He felt himself unwinding, letting the stress go even with Elliot interrupting.
At least he wasn’t alone, even if Elliot was the last company he would have wanted. Nothing was worse than an empty life. Lazlo needed more than just work.
“Greyson. It’s been a while. Three months maybe. How’s it been?”
The man sat down across from him with his tequila in his hand. Damn, he looked to be in the mood to shoot the shit. Lazlo had wanted silence and the privacy of his thoughts. Maybe he should have gone home after all.
“Same. Business is still good. You?”
“Business is always good. I was wondering if you’d given any further consideration to our previous conversation?”
Elliot attempted a smile, but it came off sinister as it almost always did. Lazlo doubted that the man was ever happy. He was just too crazy.
Lazlo blinked at the previous conversation. The last time he’d run into the crazy fool, Lazlo had been slightly drunk and reckless. Elliot had been serious about the submissive trained enslaved girl, though.
How they’d gotten on that subject, Lazlo still didn’t know. He half believed that he’d drunk too much and that Elliot had only been drunk talking as well.
Could Lazlo even consider that? It seemed so medieval.
That appealed to the darker side of his nature, however, and his curiosity was piqued. He needed something. It was what he’d been thinking of since he left his work behind. The money wasn’t the issue.
“Maybe. Off and on. Why?” Lazlo was suspicious.
He’d drunk too much that night, given away too much about himself that very few ever learned. Elliot knew Lazlo’s weakness. That wasn’t something that made Lazlo comfortable. Wealthy men used a weakness in one another against each other.
Getting the better of another powerful man often felt as good as the chase. The society he found himself in was cutthroat and ruthless. Business was like that and men like himself handled their social life nearly the same as they handled their business affairs.
“Because I may just have what you were looking for.” Elliot grinned.
Was the fool serious? He’d found a woman who wanted to act like a sex slave. For Lazlo? A dark-haired, light-eyed pretty girl who was smart and charming?
Lazlo had been looking for years, and the guy just showed up three months after Lazlo spilled his guts about needing a woman who met his needs without complaint with exactly what Lazlo said he wanted?
Lazlo raised a brow. It was too good to be true. Everyone with even half of a brain knew what that meant.
Was it even possible? A woman who would want Lazlo as twisted and depraved as he was? Except, he knew it was possible.
The woman Elliot had been with that night was docile. Elliot gave her orders, and she followed them all eagerly.
They walked to a private conference room at the charity event, and Elliot demonstrated her willingness to please him when he unzipped his pants. Lazlo hadn’t stayed to watch the rest, but he had his proof.
Lazlo thought the woman was drugged. Elliot had laughed and shaken his head at that. The woman was trained to behave as she did.
A trained submissive who catered to Lazlo sounded a lot better than the way the petty gold digger socialites acted when they realized he had no genuine interest past an easy lay.
“She’s here in Chicago. Would you like to see her? I could introduce you. If you like what’s offered, her training for your specific needs could begin whenever you like. It would cost, of course, but you could easily afford it.” Elliot laughed again.
What was he doing? Nothing. Wasting time, smoking a cigar, and drinking the stress he shouldn’t even have away.
His weekend was empty for a change. It was only two in the afternoon on Friday. He sure as hell didn’t want to go home to his empty house. He had nothing to lose by meeting her.
If she didn’t fit the bill, there was nothing lost but the time he’d been wasting with a cigar and a drink, anyway. If she was truly what he hoped, then it was, in fact, only money.
He could always make more money. Elliot was right. He had plenty of money. What he lacked was compliant companionship. What the hell? Why not?
“Can you guarantee that she’s clean and free of disease?” Lazlo asked Elliot as he stood up.
The last thing he wanted was the need to get treated for an std. He couldn’t believe that he was even seriously considering it. He was stone-cold sober this time.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the whole idea had been rolling around his mind more than just a few times since the last time he’d seen Elliot. He’d even learned how a submissive got trained to be what she was.
The whole thing fascinated him. It appealed to him in a way that made him feel very dirty, guilty, and ashamed. Denying what he was or what he needed wouldn’t change the facts, however.
“I can do better than that. I can guarantee she’s never been used by a man. The price goes up if you want to keep her intact during the training, unless you wish to train her yourself,” Elliot offered.
Were they talking about buying a woman? Training a submissive, untouched slave?
Knowing Elliot as he did, the conversation wasn’t a show. The offer was genuine.
Should Lazlo even be considering it? But he was considering it. With wealth came power.
In high school, he remembered thinking how wrong slavery was. At thirty-two, with the loneliness and a dark side threatening to ruin him pressing his mind, he reconsidered it. If a woman was truly willing, then there was no harm, right?
It wasn’t as if she wouldn’t benefit. Lazlo would see she had a nice lifestyle, clothes, living space, etc...
“She’s willing? I don’t force women, Elliot. If this isn’t legitimate, forget it.”
He wasn’t interested in a rape situation, not exactly.
No lawsuits. He wasn’t interested in wasting his profits on a lawsuit and court costs. He would win, but still.
Lazlo needed a woman who wanted to suffer abuse at his hands for him. He wanted a woman who desired the pain that edged the pleasure. Anything else would be a colossal waste of time.
“She’s willing, charming, and not fit for my needs. So she’s for sale. She’s aware of the situation and is eager to find a wealthy sponsor. Just meet her. No strings. If you don’t like what you see, walk away. I won't even be offended. I thought of you first. That’s all,” Elliot offered again with that same sinister smile.
It felt wrong, but Lazlo was intrigued. Everything about Elliot always felt wrong.
Elliot rose to his feet and walked out of the club with Lazlo. He wondered what Elliot needed that the woman didn’t have that would make him want to sell her off.
She was Elliot’s property instead of a person. Instead of finding her, Elliot already had her.
That should have rung some alarm bells. Knowing Elliot as much as he did, which wasn’t much, yet far more than he wanted; it still didn’t. The lure was too good.
Lazlo didn’t bother asking. Knowing more about the drug pusher wasn’t too high on his list of priorities. Elliot dealt in some seriously dark organized crime shit along with his legitimate businesses. That wasn't uncommon for men like them, but Lazlo steered clear of most of it.
The man wasn’t in competition with Lazlo business-wise, so, mostly, Elliot was simply an irritation. Maybe for this one thing, knowing the bastard might be worth the irritation.
Still, he preferred not to get too entangled with Elliot. If it wasn’t what he thought, Lazlo would walk away, and that was the most likely outcome.
Keep reading in Lyons Gate.
I have to go. Real-life once again must interrupt the dream. I hope you will step into the dream again soon. No matter what you read, or when you read, I leave you, as always, with this parting request: Be kind and leave your review. It will make an author's day.
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