Deal extended

Second Chance is still being offered for $.99 on Amazon and Barnes and Noble until Monday, December 3, 2012!

Please help me spread the word.

KDP Select

Hello, everyone. I've decided to try KDP (Kindle Direct Publishing) Select, a program which I must give exclusive rights to Amazon for 3 months to sell my ebooks. As of  Tuesday, November 27, 2012, Second Chance will no longer be available for purchase on Smashwords.com. Second Chance will no longer be available on Diesel, Kobo, Sony, Apple, and other ebookstores through Smashwords. It will still be available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble until December 3, 2012. After that, it will only be available on Amazon.com. The paperback version will still be available for purchase on Amazon.com and Createspace.com.

Confusing? I know. I'm still navigating through all the self-publishing venues and testing out times and pricing. Thanks for all the support. I really appreciate it!

Working Progress...Still

Phew. Now that I'm done with Second Chance, time to move onto the next story. Here's what I have also been working on. I haven't decided on a title yet, so for now, I've been calling it Nouly and Phillip. They are the characters in my next story. I've posted the first chapter, here's the second chapter from Phil's perspective. Again, it's a working progress. Much can change, plus, I still need to send it to my editors.

Sample from Nouly and Phillip

Chapter 2: Nouly

    He had arrived before she did and waited for her. He wasn’t sure at first if she was whom he had been waiting for. But no other person waited as anxiously as she had, so he assumed she was Ms. N. Yang.

    He had watched her. A skinny girl with big eyes clutching her backpack like a life line. She had hair down to her shoulders that swayed every time she turned. Though her clothing left little to be desired, she was … pretty. He internally groaned. The last thing he needed was a shallow, pretty woman to bat her pretty little eyes, acting like a helpless damsel in need of a fricking knight in fricking armor.

    He mentally cataloged her clothing. She wore a worn sweater over a plain gray T-shirt, blue jeans and a pair of serviceable shoes. Except for a gold chain around her neck, she wore no other jewelry. Her shabby looking backpack seemed to be name brand, though he couldn't tell from the ragged appearance. It’s a wonder the straps were still intact. Okay, she’s not a Pearl after all.

    He took in her image again. What had he expected when he answered her Ad? He wasn't sure what he had expected. He wasn't even sure why he was where he was, watching a girl whom he has never met before, clutching her back pack with him wondering why her clothing even mattered to him. She looked anxious and fearful. Nervous, too. She paused and bit her lower lip in eager anticipation, he hoped, for his arrival.

    She looked much younger than the woman he had expected though.

    She checked her watch for the eighth time; bit her lower lip for the ninth time then she muttered something. He glanced at his watch. Five minutes left till their meeting time.

    She turned and paced away from him. He got up, grabbed his bag and approached her. She turned and walked right into him.

    “I’m so sorry,” she said.

    “You must be Miss Yang?” Phil asked.

    She backed up and raised big brown eyes to meet his own. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

    “Not yet.” He smiled.

     She didn't  recognize him. What made him think she would? They have never met. For an instant, her eyes lit up and he thought, like a foolish man, she recognized him after all. To his chagrin, her eyes were for someone behind him. He watched her expression turned to mortification when the Phillip Hamilton she waited for walked passed her.

    He watched her retreat in defeat and forlornly resumed her pacing. Then she stopped. “Phillip…Hamilton?” she asked hesitantly.

    “Phil, please,” he said and proffered his right hand.

    She slightly cocked her head and scowled at him. Gone was the innocent girl, replaced by intense eyes that could see straight to his soul, he thought. “Am I being punked?” she asked.

    What? His smile disappeared. “No…”

    The grief in her face was like a punch to his gut. She excused herself from him and he could hear her unsteady voice. He watched her walk away from him. She gave him the perfect opportunity to walk away from this prank. It had gone far enough. Yet, he couldn't take his eyes off the desperate girl who seemed so lost.

    She wiped her cheeks. An announcement was made and she took out the tickets.

    Ah, what the heck. He’d gone this far. He had answered her Ad on Craigslist. He had accepted her offer to help her with her trip to Thailand…and possibly Laos. If he were to walk away now, he would always think of the forlorn girl with big eyes and wondered what happened to her. He cursed himself enough to shame his father, made up his mind and approached her.

    “One for me?” he asked in what he had hoped for a cherry voice but perhaps, it came out more curtly than planned.

    “Look, Phillip Hamilton. You can tell Pa about my humiliation. Hell, tell her I cried my eyes out. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. Laugh it out with her, or whoever. I have a flight to catch.”

    “Look, Miss Yang. I came here for a job. If you are punking me, I want the money you promised and the reimbursement for my ticket here.”

    Harsh. But he figured being nice was not going to get him anywhere with her.

    As he guessed, she stopped. He could see she was fighting some internal battle before she turned back to him. “I believe I emailed stating I’ll pay when the job is completed,” she said.

    Phillip nodded. She handed him his ticket. “Are we going to have a problem?” he asked her.

    “No…no problem,” she replied with coolness.

    “Are you sure? Because I don’t have any patience for tears.”

    Her hand immediately went to her cheek and he felt just a tinge of guilt at seeing her demeanor instantly changed. She let her hand fell as she let out a breath of relief. “Don’t worry, Phillip,” she said. “I promise the tears you saw are the last you’d ever see.”

    He had a feeling she was trying to assure herself more than him. “Good, and please, call me Phil.”

Perhaps Michael was right after all, Phil thought. Perhaps, just perhaps, this was the distraction he needed. The vacation he needed. He needed to start somewhere and this, if not conventional therapy, would certainly be something better than wallowing at home. (End of Sample)

If you have any suggestions for me, please leave me a comment. Until next time, good writing!

Thanksgiving Deal

In celebration of Thanksgiving, I am offering my novel, Second Chance for $0.99 on Barnes and Noble and Amazon.com. It is FREE on Smashwords.com, until Monday November 26, 2012. Please rate my book, leave me a review, and/or like my Facebook page. 

Thanks and Happy Thanksgiving!

Good reading!

I am on Hmong Pages!

I am on Hmong Pages! 

Check out the article at: http://www.hmongpages.com/index.php/spot-light/16-spot-light/299-ong-xiong-published-e-book-novelist-of-second-chance

Hmong Pages

I am ecstatic!

A correction though, my husband's name is Dang Thao. He was the one who connected me with Elizabeth Thao of Hmong Pages. I am very thankful. This is my first press!

Second Chance is on Kobo!

Second Chance is now available on Kobo!

Also, Second Chance is coming soon in print. Here's what the cover will look like:

Work in Progress—My Next Novel

After finishing Second Chance, I began writing my second novel, or rather, another story. I have been working on a story for a long time. Long before Second Chance even existed about Kazu and June (I am still working on this story). I used the summary for their story in Second Chance to describe one of Jae’s Korean drama series, Sweet Lullaby.

My handy book

I keep a composition book which I write all sorts of things in it, including story ideas, quotes, and inspirations from everyday events. However mundane my day could be, my mind would be reeling with ideas. It is especially uneventful days which allow me to day dream. Having an available book to capture all those thoughts can come in handy for later when I can sit down to write.

One of the best advice I remember (I don’t remember where I got the advice from) is to just write. Write whatever comes to mind then edit later. This works well because whatever I don’t use for one story, I can use for another story. And I don’t delete anything I cut from my story. I keep them in a separate file of “extras” in case I need it again or I change my mind on the change.

Not only do I reuse some of the ideas I originally have, I recycle them. Romance is: girl meets boy, they fall in love, things got in the way, they either lived happily ever after or they don’t. This story is recycled over and over in the stories we read today. With that said, I never get tire of the variations I have read and the creativity authors have devised are phenomenal!

For example:

Original:

“Damn you! Damn you to hell! We didn't fit,” she hissed. “Now we do? Nine years ago you asked me to be your wife and now you’re asking me to be your whore? For a week? Not even a lifetime?” All her energy drained and she looked at him warily. She opened her mouth to say more but all that came to mind was words she couldn't bring herself to say. Every unflattering name in the world, every curse and cuss she knew—it was pointless. “What you’re offering is not enough. Not enough to heal the hurt or take away the pain…” She trailed off. “Go home, Jae.”

Final:

“We didn't fit,” she hissed. “Now you want a week of my time? Years ago, you asked me to be your wife and now you’re asking me to be your whore? For a week?” She smirked bitterly. “What you’re offering is not enough. Not enough to heal the hurt or take away the pain.” She trail off. “Go home, Jae. We don’t fit. So don’t make this any harder than it has to be. We said goodbye … good luck, to each other years ago.” All her energy drained and she looked at him wearily. “I was getting so good at living. Why do you have to remind me of what I lost?”

Damn you! Damn you to hell! was cut from the final version because I found use for it in another story:

"Damn you. Damn you, Phillip Hamilton! What are you expecting? That I'll say I love you, too... And we'll go into the sunset and live happily ever after? Well, screw you!" She wiped her tears. "What...what am I suppose to..." 

Here's what I've been working on. It's a rough draft. 

Part I

Chapter 1: Phillip

     Nouly Yang glanced at her watch. Ten more minutes. Just ten more minutes and she would meet Phillip Hamilton. Has it only been a week since she contacted him? Fifteen years since her mother’s death. Three weeks since she decided to go on this journey and ten more minutes to wait. Time was ticking.

Out of desperation, she had posted an advertisement requesting for an escort into the heart of Thailand and Laos. On Craigslist of all places.

     Nouly clenched her backpack. She paced back and forth outside of French Meadow café at the Minneapolis/St. Paul international airport, biting every part of her lips. She checked her watch, did a quick 180 degrees survey, hoping he was the early type, but she saw no one. She returned to biting her lips and hugged her backpack tighter, mumbling the reason for this ridiculous journey. She corrected herself. Not a ridiculous journey; it’s a ridiculously dangerous journey. She prayed Phillip Hamilton wasn’t some psychotic murdering maniac. He was the only person who responded. The only one who accepted her offer of five-thousand dollars for the job.

     Nouly glanced at her watch, again. She smiled at the stars in her watch. They scattered and collected at 6 o’clock. Five more minutes. She turned around and ran straight into some man.

     “I’m so sorry,” Nouly said.

     “You must be Miss Yang?” the man said.

     She backed up to look up at the man. A handsome Asian man stared down at her. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

     “Not yet.” He smiled.

     Nouly saw a muscular white man walking her way and excused herself from the handsome stranger. She smiled and waited to greet Phillip Hamilton. The man walked passed her without a backward glance. Her smile slowly faded as the man continued to walk away. He didn’t look like he was looking for anyone. Her hopes faded as the man greeted another. She let her shoulders drop as she glanced at her watch again.

“Please don’t be late. Please don’t be late,” she mumbled to herself. She turned to continue her pacing and found the handsome stranger watching her. She stopped. He knew her name.

     “Phillip…Hamilton?” she asked, hesitant.

     “Phil, please,” the handsome stranger said, extending his right hand for a shake.

     She slightly cocked her head, scowling. “Am I being punked?”

     “No…”

     Her eyes stung. “Excuse me,” she muttered and side stepped around him to walk away. Damn Pa! The only person she told of her endeavor and look how it back fired. Never trust them. Never, ever trust them.

     She should have learned by now. She should have never said a word. Even if it meant disappearing from earth and no one would know.They wouldn’t care anyway.

     She sat at her gate and squeezed her backpack. She would go with or without help. It would just be harder. She stopped strangling her backpack to wipe her cheeks. Boarding for her flight was announced and she took a shuddering breath as she struggled to take out the tickets.

     “One for me?”

     “Look. Phillip Hamilton. You can tell Pa about my humiliation. Hell, tell her I cried my eyes out. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. Laugh it out with her, or whoever. I have a flight to catch.”

     “Look. Miss Yang. I came here for a job. If you are punking me, I want the money you promised and the reimbursement for my ticket here.”

     Nouly stopped in her track. Once she was able to compose herself, she turned to face Phillip. She stared at him until she heard another announcement for boarding. She bit her lower lip and scrutinized him a minute or two longer.

     Phillip Hamilton did not look like a Phillip Hamilton. She had pictured him to be Caucasian at least. The man in front of her was not what she had pictured. He was Asian. Thai? His emails said he was fluent in Thai and Laotian. But he could also be Chinese? Japanese? The list goes on. It didn't matter to her. Only that she now felt foolish. She sighed and decided what the heck. “I believe I emailed stating I’ll pay when the job is done,” she said.

     Phillip nodded.

     “In that case, here’s your ticket.”

     “Are we going to have a problem?”

     “No, no problem.”

     “Are you sure? Because I don’t have any patience for tears.”

     Nouly reflexively brought a hand to her cheek, ready to wipe away the anguish that had inflicted her for only God knows how long. Had more tears fell with her not knowing? Was she still crying? To her great relief, it was not so. She let her hand fell. “Don’t worry, Phillip. I promise the tears you saw are the last you’d ever see.”

     “Good and, please, call me Phil.”

     Nouly nodded and said no more as they boarded their flight to Thailand. (End of excerpt)

Remember, it's a rough draft so lots could change by the time I publish. It's time to shop for another cover and a title!