Book Cover Reveal-The Painting
I love book cover reveals. For me, the cover art is important for visualizing what my characters look like or, in the case of The Painting, what the actual art looks like.
The Painting
I’ve been kicking this book around for years. It started out as a screenplay and morphed into a novel, which meant there were significant rewrites. Which led to major character changes, entire scenes being scrapped, and renaming characters to the point that none of this book is like the original script.
I also had a specific style of painting in mind for Liz, so the book cover art was problematic. I’d love to be able to commission a painting for the cover, but that’s a little out of my league. So I was thrilled when we found a stock image of a painting that met all of our requirements.
Thanks to TwistyOneFifty Designs for the book cover design using an image by Zhanna.
Excerpt
Liz~
I’m chatting with a woman about painting her portrait when there’s an annoyed cough behind me.
Oh yeah, I have a job to do.
I turn around to face the dude standing on the others side of the bar. He freezes, and his face pales.
What’s wrong? My boob isn’t hanging out, is it? True story-that happened once.
I stop and look down at my shirt, a black racer-back tank top that says, “ I don’t give a damn about my bad reputation.” Everything appears to be in order.
Convinced I’m adequately covered, I look back across the bar.
He’s about six-four with jet-black hair and a serious countenance. He’s dressed in a pristine white button-down tucked into a pair of light gray chinos. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing muscular forearms with an impressive silver watch at his left wrist.
Damn, that man is fine. Even if he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here, I’ll take man-candy any night. There’s a flutter in my gut, and I wonder if he’d be up for some fun later.
But he’s still staring.
“What can I get you?”
Nothing.
I smile.
Nothing.
Weirdo stands there for another thirty seconds before abruptly turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd.
I turn to my friend and co-worker, Fin, and raise an eyebrow, but she just shrugs.
What the hell was that?
Hudson~
From a safe distance on the other side of the bar, I look back at the girl with the messy red hair and crazy tattoos. She wasn’t supposed to be real, at least I didn’t think so. The odds that I’d actually meet her have to be astronomical.
I’m a man of few words on a good day, and just seeing her took them all.
Fuck, I need to sort out my thoughts.
I’m trying to watch the bartender covertly. She’s stunning. And totally unsuitable.
She’s laughing and joking with patrons at the bar, and someone says something that makes her snort with laughter and tells the guy to “shut the fuck up” as she punches him in the shoulder.
She’d give my family fits, especially her royal highness, my aunt, the governor. Her friend, the club owner’s daughter, would be a better partner, but I am bored with the perfect, preppy girls that everyone thinks would be best for me.
But when I saw that painting in the gallery, I had to have it. I was reminded that I wanted joy in my life, and the painting of her was a reminder to myself not to settle. Everyone important-my mother, my aunt, and my sister are all strong, kick-ass women. Even if Aunt Ellen and Georgie have way too many opinions about my love life.
So, what do I do now that the painting is here in real life?
Originally published at https://linneaelaine.com on August 22, 2022.
