“Devaluation” and Other Pricing Myths

A natural consequence of writing books with the intention of making a profit from their sale is that the author and publisher (sometimes different entities, sometimes the same) tend to think of the books as having an intrinsic dollar value. In other words, if selling books is your business, you tend to associate a “reasonable” price with those books. What you deem a reasonable price will rest on many factors, including the length and genre of the book, the percentage of the sale price you will earn per sale, and what the market seems to bear for similar titles, but the bottom line is that whatever price you come up with, it is easy to get married to it. I cannot tell you the number of times I myself have thought, “This book is WORTH at least as much as <insert similarly priced disposable item>, damn it, and I will NOT devalue it by setting the price lower.”

But guess what? Every time I have thought that, I have been wrong. Oh, perhaps I have not been wrong that my book is WORTH as much as I think it is to those who know what they’re getting when they buy my books. Fans of my work may even tell me it’s a STEAL at that price. But if there aren’t enough readers willing to PAY that much for it without knowing what they’re getting, I have a problem. The more I stick to my guns and refuse to budge on my pricing, the more readers DON’T discover my book. The fewer readers buy my book, the more it sinks into obscurity. The more it sinks into obscurity, the less money I make, no matter what price I set.

I am dealing with this right now with Hot Under the Collar. I am going to be completely honest, here: I’m disappointed by this title’s sales. I expected it to do much better than it has and at a higher price point, because, after all, it’s longer than the first novella in the series (The Lesson Plan) and frankly, I think it’s a better story.1

I started out pricing this novella at $2.99. After all, it’s nearly 40,000 words, which is a short novel by RWA’s standards. But it didn’t sell. For a couple of months, I resisted dropping the price and “devaluing” my work. After all, I busted my butt writing that story. It was *worth* $2.99, damn it. Surely it would catch on.

But it didn’t and I was forced to face the facts. I could either drop the price or allow a book I’d put my heart and soul into to drop into complete obscurity, never finding its audience. This wasn’t even about making money anymore; it was about not letting something I care about sink into oblivion. And so, I dropped the price. And then I dropped it more. And then I even made it free for a short period of time. And all of those decisions, in the end, have made me more money than I was making when I stubbornly stuck to my guns about the book’s worth. Making it cheaper didn’t make devalue the book–it made it accessible and visible. And that, in turn, makes me more money than sticking to my predetermined per unit price ever could.

I know a lot of people who say that when a book is free or 99 cents, they assume it’s a crappy book with poor production values and pass right over it. I’m sure this is true. But the majority of readers/digital book buyers simply don’t see things the way those of us who are immersed in the world of books and who understand the time and effort and expense that goes into producing a quality product. And unfortunately, writers can’t make their living by depending solely on the readers who see a higher price point as a sign of quality. We have to appeal to the readers whose impulse buy point is free or 99 cents or “look, it’s under $2 and on a bestseller list so it must be a good book.”

Does this mean our work isn’t WORTH more? No. But Shakespeare is free. And guess what? We still have to compete with the asshole, even though he’s dead.

1When I say it’s a better story, I don’t mean that it’s better written or more engaging or anything like that. I mean that I personally find the issues and ideas I was able to explore in Hot Under the Collar more personally fulfilling to me. Plus, I’m in love with the hero of that book. Walter is definitely my fictional husband; don’t tell Mr. Barbosa :).

The Dilemma of Digital Discoverability

By now, I don’t suppose anyone is terribly surprised by the news that some authors (notably self-published “sensation” John Locke) have paid to have reviews posted on Amazon in the hopes of boosting their books’ visibility. (NYT article here.) The fact that it isn’t surprising doesn’t make it any less unethical, but it does make me look at my own practices as a publisher trying to gain visibility for my books and wonder where, exactly, the line between ethical and unethical really falls.

The thing is, for authors whose books are available only at online retailers (i.e., no print copies distributed to bookstores), the whole discoverability game comes down to convincing those retailers’ algorithms to display your book instead of other people’s books. The goal is to push your book up the charts in a way that makes them more visible to potential buyers than other similar books. Moreover, all of the ways you can accomplish this have relatively little to do with the actual merits of your book. Whatever you’re doing, you are, on some level, trying to trick the retailer into putting your book in front of a reader and, by extension, to trick the reader into clicking it and then into buying it.

Here are some tried and true methods of gaining visibility, particularly on Amazon:

1) Make the book free for a short period of time. When the book comes off free, Amazon’s Also Bought and other recommendation engines will tend to propel the book back up the charts. The higher the book was on the free charts when it went “unfree,” the better the results when it comes off free are likely to be. This is entirely because Amazon’s engines are “rigged” to see a book with a lot of free downloads as more popular and more relevant than similar books with about the same number of actual sales. The more readers “see” your book in the Also Bought lists as a result of it having been free, the more likely they are to be convinced it’s a good book, because (obviously) lots of people must be buying it. Except they haven’t been buying it; they’ve been downloading it for free.

2) Get the book into any top 100 list for any category. Some categories are much harder to get “into” than others. For example, if your book is shelved only in “contemporary romance,” you are going to have to sell many more copies to break into the top 100 than if you are shelved in a more obscure category, like “Anthologies/Short Stories”. Although getting into a more popular top 100 list like contemporary romance will lead to more sales than being in one of the lesser known top 100 lists, there is still no doubt that hitting any list will make your book more discoverable and will also lead Amazon to display it more often to readers of other books in that category. For this reason, it’s not unusual for authors/publishers to shelve their books in categories they barely belong in for the sake of making it “easier” to hit a top 100.

3) Drop the price of the book to 99 cents to get it to climb the charts, then boost the price back to $2.99+. This is an incredibly common practice. I’ve seen authors set their whole list of books to 99 cents, then selectively set the ones that are selling well back to higher prices…in some cases, much higher. Again, this is an attempt to “trick” readers on some level; what the author is hoping is that readers buying the book today at its higher price will assume it reached the top of the charts at this, higher price rather than realizing most of its purchasers only paid 99 cents.

4) Sell a lot of books. This one seems kind of obvious, but what I mean is the practice of the author buying his or her own books as a means to boost its ranking. Now, unless you have a lot of money on hand, it’s hard to do this at a scale which, by itself, will be enough to launch the book into the top 100 overall on Amazon, but it’s certainly not inordinately expensive to buy enough books in a span of a few days to materially and significantly affect the book’s placement. This is a simple mathematical equation. An author can pay a few hundred dollars for advertising on a blog or other website or pay a few hundred dollars to buy a few hundred copies of his or her own books. Which is going to be more effective? I’ve never done it, but I have to tell you, hands-down, I suspect that buying your own book is more likely to boost sales and be an effective use of promotional dollars than buying an ad.

Okay, so I freely admit to having done #1 (I’m doing it right now, although Amazon stubbornly refuses to make the book free and is instead setting its price at 99 cents) and, to a lesser extent, #3. I don’t tend to move prices around based on when I think a book has reached its current zenith in rankings, but rather based on when I feel the lower price has stopped being a “draw” for readers to buy the book. But I’m still engaged in a form of manipulation and I definitely am trying to get Amazon et al to give my books more visibility by making it seem as though they are going to sell well, given that visibility.

I’m not really sure I have a grand point in this post. I simply think that, given all the other ways I see of “gaming” the system, purchased reviews seem like just one cog in a much greater wheel. If that is wrong, why isn’t #1 or #3 wrong? Aren’t those just as “manipulative” as fake reviews or mis-shelving? Why is buying your own books as a promotional tactic wrong when big publishers can pay to get front page placement and you can’t? I can see both sides of this, I guess, and while I draw the line at tactics I consider to be out and out deceitful and dishonest (like buying reviews, misshelving my books, or buying large numbers of copies), I can’t say I’m completely sanguine about the ethicality of some of the other tactics I have used.


5kFriday WIP Words

I’m trying to work my way up to writing 5,000 words every Friday. With my current work schedule, Fridays have become the writing days. I’ve never yet managed more than about 4,000 words in a single day, but I’m hoping with practice, I can exceed that and get to the 5,000-word mark.

As part of this, I thought it might be fun to give you a peek into what I’m writing every Friday. Right now, I’m hard at work on Incarnate, which is the first novel in my historical urban fantasy series, The Reapers. Here’s a sneak peek at the scene I’m working on today.

“So,” he asked, “should my sergeant expect to chase you around London for the remainder of the day or can he bring a newspaper and catch up on his reading?”

The opportunity at misdirection was too good to let pass. “Oh, I should think he would be quite safe in bringing a newspaper. I expect to spend the remainder of the day communing with the spirit world in preparation for your séance.”

As she spoke, Elodie skirted a well-dressed elderly woman walking a small, mangy-looking dog in a red sweater.

“Why, Miss Capshaw,” the lady exclaimed as Elodie passed her, “how delightful to run into you.”

Elodie drew up short. Lady Beckwith. Of all the abysmal luck.

Plastering a smile to her lips, Elodie swung around to greet her former client. “Good morning, Lady Beckwith. What a pleasant surprise.” Well, at least the surprise part was truthful.

The dowager countess looked from Elodie to Inspector Ross and back again. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your gentleman friend?” she asked, a sly edge to her tone.

Elodie managed not to roll her eyes. “Lady Beckwith, this is Inspector Ross of Scotland Yard. Inspector Ross, this is the dowager Countess of Beckwith, a client whose case I recently completed.”

“Inspector?” the elderly woman repeated, sounding slightly disappointed by this news.

Elodie nodded. “Yes. We’re working on an investigation together.”

“I would hardly characterize what we are doing as ‘working together’,” Ross muttered.

Elodie shot him a murderous glare. He grinned back. She pressed her lips together in a frown. He shrugged.

“As it happens,” Lady Beckwith went on, seeming blithely unaware of their silent conversation, “I got your letter regarding my case just yesterday, and you were quite right; the condition of my boiler was quite appalling. We are fortunate we were not all blown to kingdom come, so I really must thank you.”

“Well,” Elodie said, relieved to discover that her findings had pleased the woman, “that is excellent news. And now, if you’ll excuse us—“

“Oh, please, Miss Capshaw. I couldn’t help overhearing you say something about doing a séance for the inspector.”

Please, don’t say it.

“But I am sure you told me you don’t do séances.”

Too late.

Ross looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”

Elodie closed her eyes, her stomach sinking. She could hardly claim she’d never said such a thing to Lady Beckwith in the woman’s presence. Equally, she could not deny the fact that she had agreed to do a séance for Inspector Ross when he was standing right there and knew the truth. She had best think fast, or she would be well and truly buggered. But then, the truth—or something very close to it—was always the best approach.

“It is true that I don’t do séances under normal circumstances,” she admitted, “but that is because I know where the spirit resides. It is always easiest to contact ghosts directly in their own environment, and a séance is not necessary.” As she spoke, she warmed to her explanation. It just might work. “But when it comes to spirits whose whereabouts are unknown, as in Inspector Ross’s case,” Elodie continued, “a séance is the only way to reach them, and so I am making an exception for him. I do hope you understand, Lady Beckwith.”

“Oh, but Miss Capshaw,” Lady Beckwith exclaimed, beaming with delight, “that is excellent news!” Her dog, sensing his mistress’s excitement, emitted a high-pitched yap. “You can use a séance to locate my dear, departed Lord Beckwith.”

Cover Art for the LORDS OF LANCASHIRE Anthology

Once I get the third Lords of Lancashire novella (Thomas’s story) completed and published, I’ll be putting together a print edition of all three novellas as well as a digital “box set”. Of course, the collection needed its own cover art, and I decided to go in a bit of a different direction for the anthology than I have for the individual novellas. As always, Kim Killion and her talented artists at Hot Damn Designs did an amazing job. Here’s what they came up with based on my specifications:

I really love it, and if you think I’m going for a bit of a Fifty Shades of Grey vibe here, you wouldn’t be far off, although I hope it doesn’t come off as a “copycat” either. What do you think?

What Makes You a “Romance Writer?”

A few weeks ago, RWA (Romance Writers of America) announced that, beginning in 2014, there will no longer be a Rita or Golden Heart category for “Novel with Strong Romantic Elements.” These are books in which there is a romantic arc, but it is not the main focus of the story. Lots of books categorized and sold as women’s fiction tend to fall into this category. Well-known authors who tend to enter in this category include Darynda Jones, Susanna Kearsley, Deanna Raybourn, and, from time to time, Nora Roberts. There was quite a bit of unhappiness about this move among authors who now feel their books, which are certainly romantic and usually have a happy ending, are no longer welcome in the organization.

Then, yesterday, things got even unhappier. RWA issued a clarification to the rules for general membership (i.e., membership with voting rights). To understand the changes, you first have to understand that RWA is unique among writers’ organizations in that it allows authors who are not yet published but who warrant that they actively seeking publication. This means that RWA offers many resources that are exceptionally helpful to authors in the formative stages of their careers, including workshops on craft, the query process, and the entire business of publishing. The result of this is that a fair number of aspiring authors join RWA simply for access to these resources, even though they may not be writing genre romance. Because the writers’ organizations for genres like mystery and science fiction/fantasy don’t allow the unpublished masses to join, RWA has become the de facto option for aspiring authors regardless of genre. There are also a fair number of RWA members who, though they like to write and would not turn down a publishing contract if it fell in their laps, are not really actively seeking a career in publishing. They are hobbyists who joined RWA because it gives them a chance to talk about books with other people who like books and, perhaps to some extent, allows them to rub elbows with big name published authors at conferences or chapter meetings.

I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with either category of writer wanting to be a member of RWA; RWA, on the other hand, has issued a statement to the effect that these writers, while they are welcome to join as associate members, they should not be permitted to join as general members with voting privileges. To some degree, this seemed merely a clarification of previously established but seldom enforced criteria, since the mission of RWA is to support *romance* writers, not writers of every genre. And perhaps, if this had been the only change to the membership rules, there might have been some grumbling but not a huge uproar.

But in addition to these criteria, RWA added a pretty big whopper. To wit, published authors whose currently published books would not be shelved in romance (i.e., those novels with strong romantic elements that have been excised from the RITAs) are also no longer eligible for RWA general membership. This means many of RWA’s superstar authors (the one who pops easily to mind is Linda Howard, whose books are all shelved in thriller/mystery nowadays, if memory serves) must either rejoin as associate members without voting rights or walk away from the organization altogether. (Or, I suppose there is a third option, which is write and publish something that actually would be shelved in romance, but I don’t know how many would do that just to retain their right to be a voting member of RWA.)


Obviously, I don’t think this is a wise move on RWA’s part. Membership in the organization is already on the decline as people become more and more uncertain of its usefulness. Moreover, as membership has declined, dues have risen, driving even more people out as the recession hit. Why would RWA *choose* to eliminate the members who, arguably, are its most visible spokespeople and ardent supporters? It’s baffling to me, but at the same time, it has made me think a lot about what it means to write “romance.” What qualities define the romance genre and how much does “purity” matter?

I’ve had a lot of conversations over the last few days with folks on Twitter about this. For some, the rules are simple: If a book doesn’t focus on the romantic relationship between its main characters and doesn’t end in a happily ever after (HEA) or happy for now (HFN) for those characters, it’s not a romance. For others, the rules are looser: If the book features a romantic relationship, it’s a romance, no matter how it ends (although most genre romance readers seem to unequivocally hate the UNHAPPY ending to a romance). Still others seems to subscribe to the “I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it” rule.

In this era of series like Fifty Shades of Grey (which is classified by some as a romance because the third book ends in an HEA and others as erotica because the first two apparently don’t) and serials like Beth Kery’s Because You’re Mine, it seems it’s becoming harder and harder to draw the line based on the characteristics of any one book. The digital form has made it possible for stories which have an overall arc that’s headed for an HEA/HFN to be chopped up into smaller pieces or, alternatively, packaged as a single, 300,000 word opus. And then there’s the whole question of how much focus must be on the romance to make it a romance.

I don’t have answers. What I have are questions for you. I was planning to use polls for this, but my polling software isn’t cooperating with me, so here are my questions. If you want to answer, I guess you’ll have to do so in the comments. Sorry about that; I know polls are easier.

1. Which of the following meets your definition of a “romance”?

a) The book focuses primarily on a romantic relationship and ends in an HEA/HFN.
b) The book features a romantic relationship (but it is not necessarily the focus of the story) and ends in an HEA/HFN.
c) Each book in a series features a romantic relationship, but only the final book features and HEA/HFN.
d) The book focuses on a romantic relationship and may or may not end in an HEA/HFN.

2. Do authors who write books that fall outside your definition of romance still qualify as “romance writers” to you if their books fall into one or more of the categories listed above?

I’m curious as to what you have to say, so I hope you’ll respond even though I couldn’t make the poll thing work.

Big Website Redesign Coming Soon

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t promise “soon.” People’s definitions of soon vary greatly. That said, I do have a vision and I plan to implement it as soon as humanly possible, which, given my life and other priorities, probably means late this year or early next.

In a nutshell, what I’m hoping to do is improve the website branding to represent all three genres I write: historical, contemporary, and urban fantasy. To that end, I’ve commissioned illustrations from the very talented Joanne Renaud to use in building the website’s new look and feel.

She’s only just getting started and there are lots more illustrations to do, but she finished the first one yesterday and I love it so much. I’ve already shared it on Twitter and now I want to show it off here, too.

If you haven’t already guessed, the subjects are Walter and Artemisia from Hot Under the Collar. I absolutely adore the knowing expressions on both their faces and the way Walter is looking right at the viewer while Artemisia is looking off into the distance. It was Joanne’s idea to put them in the rose garden, which I thought was a stroke of brilliance since it really harks to the story for those who’ve read it.

There will be more illustrations to come. Next up will be the characters from Incarnate, which I’ll be sharing with you as soon as I have a final version.

Lending Isn’t Piracy and Piracy Isn’t Worth Fighting, Anyway

Last week, I became tangentially aware of a fairly new website/service called LendInk. The concept behind this site was pretty simple: people with lendable Kindle or Nook books could sign up for the site and list the books they owned that had an available “lend.” They could then also use the site to search for books they wanted to borrow from other users.

This is all perfectly legal, because the lending feature is enabled or disabled by the publisher at the time the book is listed on Amazon or Barnes and Noble. All LendInk was doing was facilitating the interaction of readers who wanted to lend or borrow their already lendable books. Despite this, LendInk’s website is currently suspended and inaccessible because many authors, convinced this was piracy despite numerous explanations to the contrary, raised a hue and cry and got the site shut down.

:head meet desk:

I’m not sure how to be clearer about this: if you are an author, lending is GOOD for you. A lent book is not a “lost” sale, but a potential gained reader.

Look at it this way. If every reader who bought one of your books lent that book to another reader, and even a small fraction of those readers liked it enough to buy that book (so they could keep it permanently in their digital collection, since lent books revert to the original owner after a period of time) or other books from your backlist or the next book when it comes out or some combination thereof, that one lend has potentially resulted in multiple sales. And those sales can grow exponentially as the reader converted by a lend buys your book and lends it to someone else, who then does the same.

Readers who like your books enough to want to share them with are your friends. They make your books discoverable. They are the best marketing money can’t buy. Cutting them off at the knees by complaining that what they are doing is akin to piracy is…well…dumb.

I am such a believer in lending, in fact, that I’ve started adding a note on my copyright page encouraging readers to share my books beyond any lend feature offered by the retailer. Kindle and Nook lending is limited to a single lend per book. Once my book has been lent via that feature to another reader, it can’t be lent no more through that feature. But I don’t want readers who are enthusiastic about my books to feel they have to choose only one person to share it with. For that reason, I don’t DRM my books and tell my books’ buyers they have my permission to strip any DRM that might have been added by a retailer.

“But Jackie,” you’re saying, “aren’t you worried that your books will show up on actual pirate sites? Aren’t you worry about lost sales?”

Short answer: No.

Longer answer: My books are going to show up on pirate sites no matter what I do. DRM or no, encourage sharing or no, there are always going to be some people who will upload my books to torrent sites so anyone and their mother can download them. And I’m okay with that, for two reasons.

The first is that I actually believe some of the people who pick up one of my books from a pirate site will, like those who get my book via a legitimate lend, be converted into buyers. It may not be many, but the fact that my book is on that site is another point of discoverability.

And discoverability is the second reason I don’t particularly worry about piracy. NOT being discoverable is worse, I believe, than anything else, up to and including wholesale free downloads of your book. In this game, visibility is everything. If your book isn’t being pirated, that’s when you should worry, because it means either no one is interested in your book or no one knows it exists. Both of those are the kiss of death in this business.

The Rise and Fall…and Rise of Erotica

Ever since the meteoric rise of Fifty Shades of Grey began, I’ve been watching the publishing industry’s response with a combination of bemusement and dismay. The dismay comes mostly the form of me shaking my head every time a book is marketed as being “for” readers who loved Fifty (hm, guess it’s not for me, then, huh?) or given a monotone Fifty-lookalike cover. I’m sure, like everything else, both of these unfortunate trends will pass, but in the meantime, I can’t stop myself from heaving a sigh every time it happens. (Yes, I’m sighing a lot these days!)

What bemuses me, however, is the peculiar timing of Fifty‘s rise and the corresponding rush of publishers to embrace “erotica” as the next big thing in fiction. The thing is, we’ve been here before, haven’t we?

Back in the early to mid-2000s, Ellora’s Cave and other epublishers began publishing edgier, sexier books than the big New York publishers were willing to tackle. And those publishing houses became very successful. We could have a lot of discussion about whether erotic romance and erotica took off the way they did because of the discreet digital format, but the bottom line is that the traditional print houses looked at what the small epublishers were doing and decided there must be money in it. A lot of new, erotic imprints were formed, and publishers started snapping up erotic romance manuscripts in droves. Many authors who previously had been rejected by those mainstream publishing houses were picked up and became big name bestsellers–Lora Leigh, Cheyenne McCray, Sarah McCarty, etc.

The growth of erotica in mainstream publishing built to a crescendo that probably crested around the middle of 2008. And then, like most other bubbles, the market burst. Erotic lines were being cut left, right, and center. Aphrodisia (the line that published my novella anthology, Behind the Red Door) cut back from four titles a month to two. Black Lace, a British division of Random House that published erotica for 16 years, closed its doors. Avon eliminated its Red line. And, just a few months before Fifty burst onto the scene, Harlequin shut down its Spice line and rolled the books it had contracted for the line into Mira. In a matter of about a year and half, the traditional print market went from “can’t get enough erotica/erotic romance” to “don’t bother submitting erotica/erotic romance because no one’s buying it.” (Now, of course, that’s an overstatement; New York houses didn’t stop buying erotica/ER altogether, but their appetite for it definitely did wane.)

And then, along came Fifty and suddenly, it seems we’re back where we were in the mid-2000s. Erotic lines are being resurrected (Black Lace is relaunching with reprints of several classic titles, including one by Portia DaCosta). Publishers are actively pushing any book with BDSM elements as Fifty analogues and actively seeking new manuscripts that are “like” it. It’s the gold rush in erotica again, and life is good. Or it will be until the next crash.

And honestly, I think that crash is inevitable. I don’t say that because I’m a pessimist, but because it’s the way of these things. Everyone decides that X kind of book is hot because one exemplar of that genre becomes a huge bestseller. Publishers decide they must acquire mass quantities of X kind of book to meet the obvious demand. Except that demand turns out to be softer than anticipated because, while a lot of people enjoyed that one exemplar of X kind of book, one (or three or five or ten) of X is enough. The market becomes so saturated with X books that none of them has a real chance to gain a foothold. They all begin to look alike and nothing distinguishes one from the other. And then, the publishers cut back their lines and stop acquiring as many X books, and everything goes back to the way it was before.

Bottom line: I don’t think the proportional desire in the book-buying public for any particular genre changes just because one book in that genre breaks out and becomes hugely popular. Yes, I think a small proportion of readers will be “converted” to romance, erotic romance, and/or erotica by Fifty Shades. But in the final analysis, the popularity of Fifty Shades is not a signal that the proportion of readers who will regularly and religiously buy book in any of those genres has changed dramatically. We don’t need more of it to feed the existing appetite. We could, however, do with better.

Agree? Disagree? Discuss!

I Need Cover Art Opinions

I’m working on cover art for my next historical series, the first two books of which should be out in the first half of 2013. I’d already approved the cover for the second book in the series (Unashamed), but when I got the comp for the the cover of the first book (Unbridled), it was apparent that the font that looked great on the first book’s was fussy and hard to read on the second. This meant going back to the drawing board for the title font for both books.

I think I know which font I prefer, but I’m looking for opinions from my minions (oh, how I wish I had minions, lol). I’m showing you both sets of covers with the same font side-by-side in two sizes, 200×300 (which is pretty common for the main book pages on the major retailer sites) and then in thumbnail (which is what you see on search pages, bestseller lists, and in the also boughts). Let me know what you think. I’d be ever so grateful!


Set 1
Set 2
Set 3


Set 1
Set 2
Set 3

So, what do you think? Set 1, 2, or 3? Comment or, if you got to this from Twitter and prefer to answer there, @ reply me with your vote! (I’d do a poll, but I’d have to reinstall the plugin, and that’s just too much work!)

P.S. Ignore the telephone poles in the background on Unbridled if you’re eagle-eyed enough to see them. I’m sure my artist can get rid of them!