Okay, just a few basic rules. These are generic… some of the authors may have a few of their own preferences.
But these are pretty much the written in stone rules for the blog.
- You can only enter once. Once period, one entry per IP address. This means if you and your three best buds all live in the same house, only one entry per house. Sorry. The reasoning is we have had a few people running scams where they post under four or five different names trying to increase their odds of winning. For those that have done this… oh, how very rude. Stop trying to cheat. You will get caught. If you do get caught, don’t be surprised if you find your name & IP shared amongst authors who will then have the option of banning you from contests. Forever. A little note to the scammers, this blog does keep a list. If you’ve tried to scam me once, your name is automatically pulled from the drawing before I even do it.
- There are several different authors posting here. It’s up to each individual author whether or not they limit the contest to the United States or international. Unfortunately, postal costs have skyrocketed. Sending one lone paperback can cost $20. If the contest doesn’t specify, you can ask on the blog or email one of the authors.
- If you enter one of the contests, it’s your responsibility to check back and see if you won. You need to check back within a reasonable amount of time or your prize may be given to somebody else.
As always, if you have questions… please ask!
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[…] Contest Disclaimer […]
Jimmy Sullivan. Tall, long curly brown hair, deep grey eyes, bad boy smile, big guy with an even bigger intellect. All that Irish charm and angst.
I was almost 15, he was just 17; I was a freshman and he was a junior. I was at a house party (yeah, parents away, my buddy’s older sister invited her friends over for beer and “pitch” and let her younger brother invite some of us). Bitter cold with a ton of snow as only Northern New York State can be. He was sitting at the kitchen table playing cards with all the “cool” guys and I brushed against him as I was headed for the fridge. His arm snaked out, wrapped around my waist and there I was sitting on his lap! I couldn’t breathe. He kept a firm grip on me with one arm, cards in the other hand, me handing his beer to him or playing his crds for him, him whispering outrageous comments about everyone in my ear. I had to go to the bathroom but I don’t think I moved for over an hour! I fell head over heels in love with him that night. He kissed me when I had to leave and I have to say that he still ranks as the best kisser! It was an ill-fated, star-crossed love affair, never consummated, although he DID try, but I was too young and too scared (the nuns had done a really good job on me!). He made me stop reading “Dear Abby” and start reading the NY Times so we could “talk” about the real world. It was 1968 and he changed my life. The last I heard he was living in Colorado….