Grumble Grumble Book Blurb Grumble

I’ve spent the past couple of days struggling to write the blurb (a/k/a book description) for Storm and Shelter, which is book 3 of the Ebb and Flow series. The first draft of the book is complete and I’m working on some rewrites now prior to editing, and I want to put it up for preorder now-ish so I can include the preorder link in book 2 of the series, Future and Past, which releases April 10. In order to put the book up for preorder, I have to have the book description. And those are harder for me to write than the actual books!

 

 

(Here’s the Future and Past cover)

 

 

 

I’ve always had trouble with the blurbs. I get stuck in trying to summarize the plot rather than just giving hints to entice readers. The book description isn’t meant to be a summary of the story, and I know this, but it’s really hard for me to figure out what is “too much” summary when I’m writing the things.

Technically I could set up the preorder with just the book’s title, and fill in the blurb later, but then…why would anyone preorder it?

So I’ll keep wrangling with words trying to get this book description the way I need it to be. And meanwhile, I’ve gotten the cover for Storm and Shelter done and will be sharing it first in my newsletter, which I send out on the 2nd and 4th Thursdays of each month. Which means I’ll be sending one this coming week. If you want to subscribe and get in on exclusive excerpts and cover reveals and such, plus get the free novella Heart and Home, an Ebb and Flow prequel, visit my Free Story page.

I’m Thankful for Werewolves

(NOTE: This was originally posted on my Facebook profile on March 1, 2025.)

With everything that’s happened in the U.S. in the past couple of days (well, since January 20, really), I’m extremely thankful for werewolves.
Yeah, that paragraph is a bit tongue in cheek. Anyone who knows me, knows I have a bit of a warped/dark sense of humor. I inherited it from my dad; blame him.
But here’s the thing… (Story time, long post ahead. Mild content warning for mention of bullying and self-unaliving ideation, and allusions to domestic abuse.)
I grew up getting bullied a lot. At home and at school. I had undiagnosed depression and PTSD, along with what is still undiagnosed (formally; I’ve had multiple professionals confirm my suspicions) autism. I had few friends. Little to no social life.
But I had my imagination. I had my stories. I started telling stories before I learned how to write; as soon as someone taught me how to hold a pencil and form letters on paper, I started writing those stories down.
I still remember the first story I completed. It was about a five-year-old girl named Maria who was sent to Canada to live with her uncle. Complete wish fulfillment. But I–at age five–wrote it. It was mine. It came out of my brain.
Growing up, writing literally saved my life more than once. There were times I definitely did not want to be alive, but I poured that pain, the anger toward the bullies, all of those emotions into my stories. I wrote about a dozen book-length stories from grades 6-12, all handwritten in spiral notebooks. (I typed a couple of them, but this was before word processors were common, and my typewriter annoyed me.) I still have all of them. They aren’t great, but for a kid between 11-17 years old, they aren’t bad.
When I married my kids’ father, I stopped writing for over a decade because it pissed him off, and it was safer not to piss him off. But it got to the point where the voices of the characters in my imagination overrode the fear. I started writing again. From 2005-2010, I wrote 40 young adult novels that were all part of one overarching series broken into four sub-series. I no longer have all of the originals of those, but that’s because I started rewriting them a year or two ago hoping to publish them, before I realized I didn’t have the mental bandwidth or time right now.
In an indirect way, writing the first book of those 40 led to me being able to get out of that marriage, but that’s another story for another time.
While I was still in that marriage, a friend challenged me to write something “depicting sex in a positive light.” (He was my friend, but also my energy healing mentor, and that was sort of an assignment.) I did. I was actually pretty impressed with it. He helped me come up with the name Karenna Colcroft to write “that sort of thing” under. (He actually suggested Cockroft as the last name, but I thought that was a little too obvious for an author of erotic fiction.)
The friendship ended in 2007, but the writing didn’t. Not then, at least. In fact, through posting stories online, I found my first publisher. Through trying to connect to other authors, I found friends and my second and third publishers. I kept writing. When I met my current husband, he not only didn’t mind that I wrote but actually bragged to other people about it.
From 2009-2017, I had over 80 novels, novellas, and short stories published. The majority were under the Karenna Colcroft name, fairly equally split between heterosexual romance and male/male romance, which I started writing after encouragement from one of my online friends, a man who wrote male/male romance. Some books during that era were young adult fiction under the name Jo Ramsey.
And then my brain fell apart. Not literally, of course, but major burnout led me to start having full-blown panic attacks any time I sat down to write. In 2016, I stopped writing. My last Karenna Colcroft book was published in spring of that year. My last two Jo Ramsey books were published in 2017, but one of those was a rerelease of a book originally published in 2013.
I missed writing. I felt like I wasn’t me anymore without the stories. But until 2020, I couldn’t even contemplate sitting down to write without having a panic attack.
Then I started with some metaphysical nonfiction connected to the business I had. And then, starting in 2021, I wrote some kids’ books, fiction, about a girl in a Pagan family. That was the first fiction I’d written in 5 years.
And later that year, out of boredom, I started rereading some of the Karenna Colcroft books–and decided it was time for some of them to see the light of day again.
Enter the werewolves.
The first male/male romance *novel* (as opposed to short story) I ever wrote was Salad on the Side. A novel about the world’s only gay vegan werewolf and his mate, the sexually submissive Alpha. One book became a 5-book series. Kyle and Tobias, the vegan and his mate, were among my favorite characters ever. So when I decided to self-publish rereleases of my previously-published books, I decided to start with Salad on the Side.
I updated all five of the books in the Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat series, because they were originally written between 2010-2013, and that showed in the technology and some slang that wasn’t really appropriate back then and definitely wouldn’t be acceptable now.
And then I started writing new things. New romances, even though the romance writing was the first thing to go when I burned out.
And Kyle and Tobias said, “What the hell were you thinking, only giving us five books? There’s a lot more to tell!” So I started expanding Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat, with book 6 released last summer and book 7 released on January 9 of this year.
Book 6 of their series led to two new characters, one of whom literally came out of nowhere. I needed an inciting incident for the story–and there was Quinn Boucher, a 22-year-old recently-changed werewolf who not only captured my attention but rated mentions in every review done of that book, Take Some Tahini. So I spun Quinn and his mate Malachi Powers–a 130-year-old lone wolf who really didn’t want a mate, let alone one as young as Quinn–into their own series. Book 1, Ebb and Flow, came out in October; book 2, Future and Past, will be out next month.
For a little while in 2022 and 2023, I wrote a couple of books that weren’t werewolf-related… but the werewolves won, and there are so many stories flooding my brain that I’ll probably be writing them for a good long time.
When I was growing up, and in the waning years of my first marriage, writing saved my life on multiple occasions. And now, with everything happening in this country and the world, it’s saving my sanity, because being able to spend a few hours a day plunging into a fictional Massachusetts (in Real Werewolves) or Nova Scotia (in the Ebb and Flow series) gives me the breathing room to come back and face the real world.
So, with everything that’s happened since January 20… I am thankful for werewolves.

A Love Letter to My Childhood

The book I’m currently working on, which is book 3 in my Ebb and Flow series (a spin-off of Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat that takes place primarily in Nova Scotia), is rapidly becoming a love letter to the summer cottage my Canadian grandparents (my mother’s parents) owned until I was 14 or so. I spent a week or two nearly every summer visiting those grandparents, and until they sold the cottage, that time was mostly spent there. (This is a picture of a photo I took sometime around 1983 or 1984 of that cottage.)
In Ebb and Flow, one of the main characters, Malachi William Powers, is a 130ish-year-old werewolf from Lunenburg, Nova Scotia…who, in fiction-land, would be an ancestor of mine. My grandmother was a Powers; William is a name given as first or middle name to a few of my relatives on that side of the family. (I just really like the name Malachi.) Because of that, when I needed a relatively isolated place for lone wolf Malachi to live, I chose my grandparents’ cottage. I believe, though I may be incorrect, that the cottage was built by my grandmother’s father, meaning it was a Powers family cottage.
In real life, the cottage was sold when I was in my teens. I haven’t been inside since, and the exterior doesn’t resemble the cottage I remember visiting. But in fiction-land, in the Ebb and Flow series proper, the cottage’s appearance is what I recall from the late 1970s-early 1980s. In Malachi’s prequel to the series, Hooch and Howls, the cottage isn’t as clearly described but resembles what I imagine it would have looked like if it was there around 1930, when Hooch takes place.
The first two books of the series, Ebb and Flow, and Future and Past, have the Canada-set parts of the story taking place at the home of Silas Creighton, the Anax (werewolf ruler) of Canada, who lives on a private island in Mahone Bay. Creighton being another name from my childhood; though not related to me as far as I know, the Creighton family was close with the Powerses and Pykes, and as in the books, the Creightons owned the cottage next to the one my grandparents owned. (I think Creightons bought the cottage when my grandparents sold it, but again, I can’t remember for sure.) In Ebb and Flow, Malachi briefly brings his mate Quinn to the cottage just to show it to him and pick up some clothes, but we don’t get the full picture of it.
This third book, Storm and Shelter, which I’m currently working on, starts in Massachusetts, where nearly the first half of the story takes place, then goes briefly to Silas’s…and then the rest of the book takes place in and around Malachi’s cottage when Quinn finds himself unable to tolerate staying at Silas’s after the events of Future and Past. Which means I’ve spent the past three and a half weeks diving into my admittedly not entirely accurate memories of the cottage and its appearance and trying to put the description into words. I do have a few pictures of the interior and exterior of the place from my childhood, but a lot of the writing is just relying on my memory.
In my childhood, that cottage was one of my safe places. One of the places where I knew I would be treated with love, and where the parent who constantly criticized and yelled at me would be shut down by my grandparents. Where I learned how to construct a wooden bench that was so rickety that only my then-2-year-old cousin could sit on it. Where I spent hours in the sand and the salt water.
In writing this book, I’m giving my inner child back that safe place, at least for a little while, as well as giving the home in fiction-land to one of the favorite fictional couples I’ve created, Malachi Powers and Quinn Boucher. Some of the description in the first draft of Storm and Shelter will probably be cut out for length and pacing, but for now, I’m indulging it.

Still Writing

I live in the United States. By now, I think everyone in the world knows what’s happening here. I’m privileged to live in a “blue” state, i.e. one where policies tend to be relatively liberal and actually in the best interests of most residents, but even here we’ve been seeing signs that the “executive” orders passed this past week are having an effect. (I’m also privileged to have dual citizenship, and while I’m currently planning to remain in the U.S., I’m making sure I have all my documents in order in case I need to move to my other country…)

I don’t often get political. That isn’t because I don’t care or don’t have opinions; it’s because in addition to caring and having opinions, I have mental health issues, and I choose to prioritize my mental health over expressing opinions online and getting excoriated by those who disagree with me. And sometimes by those who *agree* with me, because they misunderstand the way I’ve phrased something.

In the meantime, while I’m privately processing the hellscape my country has become and figuring out how I can make things even a tiny bit better for people in my personal sphere, I’m also continuing to write. I write male/male romance. There are explicit sex scenes in most of my books. Which means I could very well be on the chopping block for “producing pornography” or whatever bullshit the current administration spews to find reasons to clamp down on those of us who write LGBTQ+ fiction–even *without* explicit sex scenes. Before anyone says fiction without sex scenes wouldn’t be considered pornography…as recently as ten years ago, I had a completely G-rated book, no sex scenes, not even a KISS between the main characters, that Amazon labeled “erotica” solely because the main characters were both men. (And that was released by a publisher…self-publishers get it even worse.)

But I’ve been writing most of my life, other than the several years when I wasn’t able to write because my mental health wouldn’t allow it. Most of my life, writing has *helped* my mental health. And I’m not giving up on my werewolves or my books just because the country I live in has become this… place. I don’t even have words for it.

There’s Something In My Eye…

I’m currently working on the first draft of Sorry About the Seitan (Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat 8), and yesterday I wrote a scene that almost made me cry. I guess it’s good if I can elicit that kind of reaction in myself; it might mean my readers will like the scene too.

I can’t say what the scene is, because it would be a spoiler. Even though the book won’t be out until July, by which time most people who read this will probably have forgotten, I want to avoid spoiling it as much as I possibly can.

What I will say: The book takes place at Christmas time, and the scene takes place at the Christmas get-together Tobias and Kyle throw in their new home. The tears are happy ones.

I’ll also say that Quinn is still working for Tobias and Kyle at this point in the series timeline, and Malachi makes a guest appearance.

(If you have no idea who I’m talking about, read any of the Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat books, especially Take Some Tahini, along with Ebb and Flow.)

I might not get a lot of writing done over the next couple of weeks, because it actually is Christmas time and I have to do family stuff. But I’ve made a lot of progress in this book (I started it two weeks ago, and I’m on page 66), so I’m hoping to keep the momentum going.

If my darn characters would stop making me have something in my eye.

xr:d:DAFBO-dpi3A:240,j:27902772136,t:22060514

It Was a Long Week…

When I’m not writing books, I work at a daycare center. I’m usually only there about 15 hours a week; my job is to cover the lunch breaks of the full-time staff. But this past week, due to staff members being on vacation or out for other reasons, I worked 26 hours. Which doesn’t sound like a lot, but it was more than I’m used to. (I have chronic health issues that impede my ability to work; I can’t manage full-time at all, which is why I took a part-time job.) And I haven’t been sleeping well the past several days, so today, I’m completely exhausted.

On the plus side, though, I got through December 1. Two awful things happened on that date, in 2022 and 2023 respectively, so I was a little worried about how things would go. But I got through the day, and this year nothing awful happened. (Though arguably, the U.S. presidential election was an early horrible thing for this year…)

And despite having to work more this week, and spending a lot of my time at home trying to sleep, I managed to get a solid start on writing Sorry About the Seitan (Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat 8)! I’m very happy about that. So far, a lot of what I’ve written is backstory, which I’ll wind up removing when I edit the book.

A very short excerpt (unedited):

Some time later, I realized the room was a lot brighter than it had been. I’d slept so deeply I didn’t remember any dreams, which was probably a good thing. My nightmares didn’t affect me as much as Kyle’s and Quinn’s affected them; I’d had decades to get used to them and to work through some of the trauma that spawned them. But that didn’t mean I enjoyed having them, and a night without any that I recalled was a good night.

Beside me, Kyle still breathed evenly. Either he was still asleep or he’d chosen to pretend he was. I didn’t need to know which. During the night, we’d rolled away from each other. I debated waking him for some cuddling—and possibly the enactment of his promise—before we went downstairs for breakfast, but a glance at my phone showed that we didn’t have time. The fact that the sun was up on a December morning when sunrise was after 7 a.m. should have clued me in to the fact that I should have already been downstairs.

I rushed through cleaning up in the bathroom that adjoined our bedroom and pulled on slacks and a sweater. Ordinarily, what I wore in the morning didn’t matter much. I kept things as informal as I could, especially at mealtimes. But with Justin scheduled to arrive within a couple of hours, I had to look more official.

I wasn’t a fan of “official.” But it was part of the cost of being the Anax.

First Draft Done!

In October, a week or so after I released Ebb and Flow, I started writing the sequel to it, which is tentatively titled Life and Time.

Yesterday, I finished writing that sequel!

I think that’s one of the fastest first drafts I’ve ever done. And I’m pretty happy with the story, though there are a couple of dangling plot threads I’ll need to remove when I edit the book. That’s the result of thinking I knew where the story was going and then having the characters completely take over.

I’m going to be pushing myself with this book, because it’s planned for release in April 2025, so I want to make sure I get all of the editing and so forth done. But given how fast I wrote it, I’m hopeful the editing will go smoothly as well.

I loved being back in Quinn and Malachi’s world, and finishing the first draft was rough because I didn’t want to leave them. So there’s more than likely going to be another book in the series, but I haven’t planned that yet….

The Best-Laid Plans…

I try to plan in advance what books I’ll be working on and when.

If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you’ve probably noticed that those plans often get changed.

This is partly on me. Sometimes I bite off more than I can chew, so to speak, and plan too many projects in too short an amount of time. That was the case this year, when originally I’d planned to release 6 books. Accidentally deleting my Amazon account back in May and having to republish everything slowed me down. So did struggling to write the first draft of Bring On the Broccoli (Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat 7), since having to scrap most of the original draft and start the whole book over ate into the time I’d set aside for a different project. Which is why Ebb and Flow, originally intended as a September release, ended up being released in October instead.

Another thing that contributed to the change in plans was that two of the books I’d originally intended to release this year weren’t actually paranormal romance. I wanted to rerelease my Can’t Drag Me Down series, three contemporary romance books originally published between 2013-2016. The series was another example of changes in plan; I’d spoken with my editor at the publisher where these books were being published (Loose Id) and discussed at least two additional books in the series, but right about the time I started working on book 4, I started having panic attacks when I sat down to write anything romancey. Then Loose Id closed its doors, so Can’t Drag Me Down wound up being only three books, each of which follows a different drag queen from a club in Boston.

Book 2 of that series, Last Chance Tattoo, takes place in Ludington, Michigan, but the drag queen main character came from Boston. If I’d rereleased the books as planned, I intended to rewrite Last Chance Tattoo to take place in western Massachusetts instead. I also would have ended up doing some rewrites to the other two books to accommodate Remington Real, the drag queen character introduced in Fill the Empty Spaces. The main characters of Can’t Drag Me Down make walk-on appearances in Spaces, and I’d justified rereleasing CDMD by the fact that the series is now directly tied to Fill the Empty Spaces, which *is* paranormal.

But I ultimately decided against doing those rereleases, at least this year. There were several factors in that decision: First, as noted, Bring On the Broccoli took much longer for a workable first draft than I’d anticipated, which took away time I’d budgeted for doing the CDMD rewrites. Second, CDMD is not a paranormal series, despite the tie-in with Fill the Empty Spaces. When I was writing for publishers, a decade-ish ago, I wrote both paranormal and contemporary romance, though even some of the contemporaries had minor paranormal elements. But when I relaunched as Karenna Colcroft in 2022, I planned to focus only on paranormal.

Also… werewolves.

Fill the Empty Spaces is the only book I’ve released since 2022 that *doesn’t* have werewolves, and even that actually does. (Suzannah Daigle, the Boston North Pack healer who appears in some of the Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat books, makes a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo appearance in Spaces, in the scene where Del breaks down in Piers Park. In the original draft of Spaces, there was even more of a tie-in with RWDEM characters, but I cut that out in the final draft because it was bogging down the story.) Of the other books, 6 are directly part of Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat; the Chance Met duology is connected to RWDEM since one of the main characters of Chance Met is a secondary character in RWDEM; and Ebb and Flow is an intentional spin-off from RWDEM. Hooch and Howls is now also connected (loosely) to RWDEM because the main character of Hooch is also one of the main characters of Ebb and Flow.

Because I am apparently completely incapable of not creating connections and threads between books, whether I intend to or not.

But the point is that of the 11 male/male romance books I’ve released since 2022, 10 of them have werewolves and are either part of or connected to the Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat series. Fill the Empty Spaces is the outlier, despite Suzannah’s cameo appearance, and its sales seem to reflect that. (A Fighting Chance, book 2 of the Chance Met duology, has sold more poorly than Spaces, but that in large part is due to it only being out for 10 days before I deleted my Amazon account, so it didn’t have as much time to gain an audience. And I’ve slacked on promoting it since I republished it.) So I’m kind of thinking that I need to embrace the werewolfery of it all and keep my books focused on those characters, either through continuations of RWDEM or books that are somehow connected to that series.

Which rules out Can’t Drag Me Down, at least for the time being. It also rules out Dawn Over Dayfield, my suspense-with-romantic-elements novel, which I’d slated for rerelease in April 2025. Dayfield is also not paranormal, but because of the historical aspects of the story, it *feels* paranormal to me. It’s also one of only two of my books to have won an award, first place in the Mystery category of the 2016 Florida Authors and Publishers Association President’s Book Awards. (The other book to have won an award is, somewhat ironically, Fill the Empty Spaces…) But if I’m focusing on werewolves, Dayfield doesn’t have a place. And also, after I released Ebb and Flow, the main characters Quinn and Malachi started whispering in my mind’s ear about a sequel… which I’m currently working on.

I don’t know if all the changes in plans I’ve made over the past couple of years means I need to try harder to stick to the plans I make… or means that I need to stop planning more than a couple-few months in advance. But either way, werewolves.

5 Stars!!

I don’t automatically expect my books to get great reviews. Some of that is me being realistic; all books have issues of one kind or another, and not every story is every reader or reviewer’s cup of tea. But some of my lack of expectation of good reviews is due to imposter syndrome: “I suck, my books suck, I screwed up this part, I must have missed something in the edits,” and so on and so forth.

Being an author is hard enough. When anxiety starts telling you you’re a piece of crap and so are your books, it’s even harder.

I released Ebb and Flow on Thursday the 10th. I felt good about the book. When I did the multiple rounds of editing, every time I reached the end of the story, I felt sad that I’d reached the end. I love the main characters, Quinn Boucher and Malachi Powers. But that didn’t mean I completely believed that readers and reviewers would also love it.

As it turned out… they did. Or at least one reviewer did. Linda Tonis of Paranormal Romance Guild gave Ebb and Flow 5 stars! What made me even happier about the review was that the reviewer clearly understood the characters, saying that it’s a “beautiful story” about crafting a new life after trauma and loss, and that Quinn believes he isn’t brave and apologizes for everything, while Malachi recognizes Quinn’s strength and tries to help Quinn see it.

Ebb and Flow isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea. There’s an extreme age gap; Quinn is 22, while Malachi is 130. They’re werewolves; werewolves live longer than humans. They’re also fated mates, and whatever “fate” puts mates together apparently doesn’t care about age as long as everyone’s an adult. (In my universe, nearly all werewolves are adults; changing someone who’s under 18 is against werewolf law–with a death penalty imposed on those who violate the restriction. Only two were known to have been changed while they were still under 18; both were changed by a sexual predator, and one of them, Tobias Rogan, killed said predator to keep him from victimizing anyone else.) In addition to the age gap between Quinn and Malachi, they pretty quickly develop a Dominant/submissive dynamic, with Malachi being the dominant partner; that dynamic will appeal to some readers, but others will find it against their tastes, particularly on top of the age gap.

But I know at least one reviewer loved the book, and that feels really good.

Blurbs

Sometimes writing a blurb is harder than writing the actual book. The blurb is the little “description” that appears on retail sites and on the back cover of a paperback. It’s meant to attract readers to the story. Which… isn’t easy.

Back in the day, when I was working with publishers, sometimes I had to provide a book blurb, but sometimes the publisher took care of it. And even when it was my responsibility, the editor would often tweak what I sent in. But now, since I’m self-publishing, I’m the only one responsible for the blurbs. And I’m not great at them.

I keep finding myself trying to cram way too much information into my book blurbs. I end up with something that’s more of a synopsis. Which isn’t a horrible thing, but that’s not the purpose of a blurb.  Although it’s taken me a while to get this through my head, the blurb isn’t supposed to summarize the story. It’s supposed to give just hints of the story and the themes and conflicts so readers will want to read the book itself and find out what’s going on.

When I wrote the blurb for Ebb and Flow, I was more intentional about what I was doing, and I posted it for feedback in a Facebook group I belong to that exists for the purpose of people getting feedback on their blurbs. I would say the blurb for Ebb and Flow is still far from perfect, but it’s much better than what I’d written for my other books.

Recognizing that, I spent the past couple-few weeks rewriting the blurbs for my published books. I struggled mightily with a few of them, while others just flowed pretty easily. As with the Ebb and Flow blurb, the new ones on my other books aren’t perfect, but they are better.

The one I think I’m proudest of is the blurb for Fill the Empty Spaces. That was one of the ones that just flowed, and I think it’s the one that’s the biggest improvement over the original. For comparison, here’s the blurb I originally had on Fill the Empty Spaces:
“Austin and Del were the love of each other’s life for two decades–until a drunk driver took Austin away. In his grief, Del leaves his job and pushes away most of his friends. Austin would want him to go on living, but how can he when Austin is gone?
In an effort to help, Del’s friend Remy books them an afternoon at a local cat cafe. There, Del bonds with Charlie, a senior cat who wears sweaters to cover his lost fur, and Lochlan, a human who volunteers at the cafe. On impulse, Del signs up to volunteer there too. Over time, with the friendship of Lochlan, Charlie, and the rest of the resident cats, Del starts to pick up his pieces and create a life without Austin.
As Del and Lochlan’s friendship deepens and Lochlan shares his deepest secrets, Del realizes he’s falling for the other man. He’s finally living again, but can he let himself love again?”

So… that blurb gives way too much summary of the story. Although the cat cafe and Charlie do play roles in the story, they aren’t really the major *parts* of the story, and so probably don’t belong in the blurb. And there’s no indication in the blurb that the story has a paranormal element.

When I had to republish all of my books due to accidentally deleting my Amazon account, I tweaked that blurb… but it ended up even worse, with even MORE TMI and details that didn’t belong in the blurb. The second version:
“Austin and Del were the love of each other’s life for two decades…until a drunk driver ended Austin’s. Now Del struggles to get through each day without his partner.
In an effort to get Del back into the realm of the living, Austin’s honorary sister Remy books an afternoon at a local cat cafe. A visit which changes Del’s existence. He bonds with Charlie, a senior cat with health issues who wears sweaters to cover his lost fur, and with Lochlan, a human who volunteers at the cafe. On impulse, Del signs up to volunteer there too. And with the friendship of Lochlan, Charlie, and the rest of the resident cats, Del begins to live again.
As Del and Lochlan’s friendship deepens, Lochlan admits one of his deepest secrets: He is a psychopomp, a human who guides spirits to the “crossing point” at the time of their death. In his need to understand Austin’s death, Del interrogates Lochlan, and Lochlan turns away from him. During the weeks of no contact, Del emerges more into life, and realizes, in Lochlan’s absence, that he is falling for Lochlan. When they finally reconnect, the sparks are there, but only a few months after Austin’s death, can Del let himself love again?”

Again, it’s more of a synopsis than a blurb. The nature of Lochlan’s deepest secret is meant to be a reveal, both to the reader and to Del, and yet here it is being spoilered in the blurb. And it’s way too long.

Now, here is the current version, the one I’m actually happy with:
Everything was empty.
Not literally. My apartment was still filled with the remnants of my life with Austin. That was the problem.
The things were there. Austin wasn’t, and he never would be again.
Twenty years of love ended in an instant the night a drunk driver hit Del Nethercott’s partner Austin. In his grief, Del has pushed away most of his friends and is barely existing. Austin would want him to go on living, but how can he without the love of his life?
Over the next few months, Del finds his way into his new reality with the help of Austin’s drag sister Remy, a sweater-wearing cat named Charlie… and Lochlan, a man hiding a supernatural secret.
As Del works through his grief, he and Lochlan grow closer, until Del realizes he feels more than friendship for the other man. Only months after losing Austin, Del isn’t ready to love again. But maybe he’s ready to hope.”

Still not perfect. But a vast improvement, in my opinion, over the second version, and a pretty big improvement over the original. No spoilers, no TMI, and it isn’t a synopsis.

I’m still getting the hang of writing blurbs. But I think I’m getting there.