Think You Couldn’t Possibly Lose Your Amazon Publishing Account? Think Again.

Becca's avatarThe Active Voice

There’s this indie author I know a little bit from the Kboards.com forum. Her name is Pauline Creeden, and she’s an ordinary midlister, like so many of us. I remember PMing her some time ago and gushing about how particularly beautiful one of her book covers is — the one for Chronicles of Steele: Raven.collection Here, I’ll include an image. Gorgeous, eh?

Anyway, today I tuned in to Kboards and noticed that Pauline had started a thread. It contained what’s surely the worst news possible for an indie author: Amazon had closed her publishing account. All her ebooks had been taken off sale. Permanently. Here’s the email she got from Amazon:

We are reaching out to you because we have detected that borrows for your books are originating from systematically generated accounts. While we support the legitimate efforts of our publishers to promote their books, attempting to manipulate…

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Hearts entwine

Hold me in your arms, my love
As I hold you in my heart
Hold me in your thoughts, my love
For though the miles part us
We will never be apart

Our souls have found each other
Across the vast distance of circumstance
Falling deeper and deeper
Until we’d woken from our trance

My love is neverending
And day by day it grows
This love is always wending
Midst your gardens groves

Goddess of My Heart

I have lived a lifetime without you.
But now, each moment waking or in sleep has you in it.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I cannot say it enough because the words themselves are not enough.
I can no longer regret or hold sorrow for any action of my past because each step has been a step closer to you.
I’ve written and rewritten lines and lines and they are all True and all not enough.

Adrift of snow

These shadow hours that pass on by
Hold unreal, uncertain
For want of words
Of lips
Of touch
This errant thought, an errant dream
Shifting in the firelight

Insomniac drag

Sleep eludes me in my bed
As thoughts swim in the rarified air
Of what might yet be
But heart reminds
She sleeps curled up
safe
Deep within us
And though we wake
And are alone
hope and desire bloom anew

Last twitch

There a flower grows
The yellow heat pours down
From a blue sky, soft rain patters staccato against leaves
The soft loam, smelling clean. Fresh earth and the crisp green of new growth
Fronds reaching out to the blue. Sun pounding down they drink their fill
Dew soaked grass, orange gold sunset and the failing light
The first blush of the darkness found amidst deepening shadows
Soft hushed, sounds quiet, the garden cools in the night air
The stars shine. While across the sky meteors fall like tears
The triumphant moon, full and ripe, arcs ascendant in a loving sky

 

This is the poem I wrote as my last relationship was ending. I wrote a each line in remembrance, over a period of 20 days, as I do not walk away. But It was over. Eventually, when other romance looms heavy, even I must shutter the past. As I did today. Not everything beautiful lasts forever. But sometimes that ending marks the beginning of something better.

Nerve endings bloom

What do you say
when time is decay
Hope’s last echo fading away

Last thrill in the dying light
Cut ribbons of each slight
Bones worn thin from the night

Sounds echoing rasp
Opening the final hasp
Spitting vitriolic trash

Sleep evades
Frowns make way
And loss is all for wanting

Tenuto

time is a litany
a drowning progression of hours
lost amidst dreaming
foundering in the becalmed sea
melancholic drifting
the tide
carries away
the last remnant of what we were