Today, I’m turning my blog over to D.L. Jackson for a guest post about a charity near and dear to her heart. Please read, and make difference if you can.
Today I’m kicking off my three month fund raiser. Please join me. I’ve provided links to get you started. Please take a moment to read this and share. The more this post is shared, the more eyes will be on it. Because of federal regulations, I can not state I am donating total sales of a product to a particular charity, so I need to be non-specific who I give to. I know, I know, regulations. I will therefore round up my donation up to the nearest whole dollar amount and give a lump sum that is close to what I earned for the quarter. It will not be the “sales” but a sum a little bit more than what I earned and to a charity that won’t be named (Just know it’s going to help service members, past and present).
I’d like to thank Tara from Fantasia Frog for donating her time and money to create a great banner for this event. Jessica Subject for the upcoming Decadent Publishing Newletter that highlights this event, and Decadent Publishing for tracking and posting updates monthly on how we’re doing.
This is no joke.
Every 65 minutes, a military veteran commits suicide.
I’m going to be honest here. Finding Mercy took a lot out of me when I wrote it. I had so much to say and there was no other way I could think to show you what I felt. Finding Mercy is not a warm and fuzzy romance. It is a struggle for one man to learn to love again, himself, and someone else. It is a book about hope, when all seems hopeless. It is a book about choosing to step out of the dark, no matter how impossible it seems.
Combat medics have a dangerous job, and part of that job is dragging wounded off hot battlefields. They have hearts for healing and helping, and because of this, cannot help collecting a few scars of their own, both physically and mentally.
If you haven’t read Finding Mercy, I’ll warn you, it probably has one of the most grisly battle scenes I’ve written. The hero is damaged—searching for peace and a way to start over. He is at a crossroads in his life that many vets face every day. He’s in pain and a very dark place. He has a weakness for the bottle, desperate to drown memories he can’t forget. For some readers, I’ve been told, the scenes are hard to stomach. What the hero goes through is too painful to read. I am aware I was pretty brutal to my hero, but I needed to paint a realistic portrait of the face of PTSD in our active duty military and veterans. This story has been called everything from graphically violent to an anti-romance.
So be it. It got your attention.
We cannot erase PTSD or injuries caused in battle by pretending they don’t exist. But we can move forward by supporting our military and vets, as they face those crossroads. Here’s a link to some facts about veterans and active duty military featured on PBS, Public Broadcasting System: http://www.pbs.org/coming-back-with-wes-moore/about/facts/
I’d like you to join me in raising some money for a great cause. I’ve asked my publisher to track all sales for this book for the month of April, May and June 2015. I’m not asking for reviews or a bump in the ratings. You don’t even have to like this book, but I hope you do. What I am asking, is that you buy this book April 1st- June 30th 2015, and share the link. It costs $2.99, the price of a cup of coffee. Not a huge chunk of change. We spend more than that on a salad or burger at any given time.
Starting April 1st and running through June 30th, I will donate my total royalties from the sale of Finding Mercy, an erotic military romance, to a charity that helps military and veterans who suffer from PTSD. I have to be non-specific which charity, because of federal regulations. Buy the book, help a service member. It’s that simple. This is about something I strongly believe in. You see, I’m a vet. My husband is a vet. His grandfather served in the Navy in WWII, my father in the Air Force during Vietnam. My mother-in-law is a Marine, and both of my sons are active duty. My oldest is currently on his third deployment. My youngest, a Combat Medic, is preparing for his first.
I’ve seen the face of PTSD. It belongs to our sons and daughters, wives and husbands, fathers and mothers, grandmothers and grandfathers. It is our neighbors, friends and co-workers. It doesn’t discriminate, and it doesn’t just go away. Wounded vets need help.
Help me, help them.
Thank you for your help,