I've met some pretty wonderful and interesting people on Facebook and among them is my friend Rick. I recently took a little time to ask him more about himself and here's what I learned.
R. P. STEEVES has been writing in just about every format imaginable since he was a child. He’s written short stories, newspaper columns, stage plays and even a radio drama. Now he has written his first urban fantasy novel about an adventurous, sarcastic and mysterious woman known only as Misty Johnson, whose mission in life is to uncover the truth that hides in the supernatural underbelly of Washington DC.
Rich was born and raised in Connecticut, has a Master’s degree in education, and taught middle school for nine years. He enjoys solving puzzles, rollerblading, watching movies and has recently taken up archery. He looks forward to chronicling the further adventures of Misty Johnson and her band of supernatural misfits…
Centuries ago, Misty Johnson, Supernatural…er,…Dick, was cursed with near immortality when a black magic spell she and a friend were casting backfired…and the supernatural realm has regretted it ever since. A near millennium full of battling paranormal nasties, saving helpless victims, and trying to stay up with the latest cultural niceties, Misty has put her experiences to good use. With the help of her trusty partner, Dru Chance, the two take on the magical underbelly of Washington
D.C. as they investigate crimes that no one else can handle.
From shady Senators to sneaky shape shifters, from a ninja made of clay to a vampire afraid of his own shadow…Misty Johnson navigates the nation’s capital, all the while seeking to uncover the truth for her clients—and for herself.
An unnatural life span. A timeless mission. A woman like no other. Just don’t call her a detective!
PRAISE FOR MISTY JOHNSON, SUPERNATURAL DICK:
“Misty and Dru are the paranormal world’s answer to Holmes and Watson.” – Lori Devoti, author of AMAZON QUEEN and AMAZON INK.
"Misty Johnson enters the worthy ranks of psychic investigators and takes you on a page-turning tour of Washington DC's seedy Underworld-Underworld. I'll never feel completely safe in an unfamiliar comic book store again!" – John J. Miller, author of DEATH DRAWS FIVE (the Wild Cards series).
"Rich Steeves has arrived as a fresh new voice in fiction, and his creation, Misty Johnson is an instant classic. She is a welcome addition to the ranks of paranormal investigators - funny, tough and one-of-a-kind." – Liz Tigelaar, author of the Pretty Tough series and creator of The CW's Life Unexpected.
"Feisty and fierce, Misty Johnson is one savvy, supernatural detective that's always one step ahead of her clever, otherworldly prey. Steeves has created a fun new heroine that's a pleasure to follow in her investigative misadventures. Misty's a charmer!" – Tara Bennett, co-author of the LOST ENCLYCLOPEDIA.
“Attention all evil sorcerers, necromancers, vampires, zombies, and other supernatural nasties within the Washington, D.C. metro area…you better watch out! You’ve got a new nemesis in Misty Johnson…the private dick with a flare for the supernatural. R.P. Steeves pulls out all the stops in his debut novel and the genre of urban fantasy will never be the same!” – J. Kent Holloway, author of PRIMAL THIRST and SIRENS’ SONG.
You can find his books at http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/misty-johnson-supernatural-dick-in-capitol-hell-rp-steeves/1100144352?ean=9780982609941
1. How long have you been writing? What inspired you to pick the pen up one day and create characters that capture the imagination?
I wrote quite a bit when I was in high school and college, but then I got sidetracked by life. A few years ago, when someone asked me what I wanted to do with myself, I answered “I want to be a writer.” He replied, “Well, what are you writing?” I started to give him a litany of excuses: I was too busy, I had no ideas, it was a waste of time. He stopped me and said “I don’t know a lot about writing, but it occurs to me that if you want to write, you should write.” So I did. I started writing short stories and then eventually worked my way up to my first novel.
2. What genre would you like to try that you haven’t yet?
I have written realistic fiction, paranormal fiction, action/adventure, mystery, sci-fi and horror. I would really love to write historical fiction, something set in a classical period like ancient Greece or Rome.
3. Most people envision an author’s life as being really glamorous. What’s your take on this? Can you tell us something unglamorous you did within the last week or so?
I imagine there are SOME writers, SOMEWHERE who have pipes and slippers and brandy and sit on a veranda in Italy crafting fine works of literature on their classic typewriters. For me, though, I sit in my small apartment in my Jedi bathrobe, with my parrot sqwaking away as I eat ramen noodles and work on my stories…
4. Plotter or pantzer?
Depends on the project. For novels, I tend to plot in advance, using outlines and detailed notes. For short stories, I more often write by the seat of my pants and see where the muse takes me.
5. What do you do when you’re suffering writers block?
I don’t get writer’s block that often. I usually just keep writing, pushing through any doubts and getting something down on the page. Then I can go back and see if it was any good. Sometimes I jump to a different part of the story and try to connect the dots later.
6. If you could be a character in any of your books who would it be and why?
I would love to be like Teri Nighthorse, a character in Misty Johnson, Supernatural Dick in Capitol Hell. She is young, bright, talented, motivated and ambitious, with the whole world in front of her and all the tools she needs to do whatever she wants in life. She finds her way into a strange an exciting world of the paranormal, and gets to experience the wonder and danger of it firsthand.
7. Looking over the past year, what has been the best moment for you in your writing career
The best moment of my writing career was when an old friend from college, someone I hadn’t spoken to in a long time and someone who’s opinion I really respect, sent me a message saying how much she liked my book. It meant a lot to me that she would seek me out and tell me that, and I have been trying to help her work on her writing since then, too, which makes me proud.
8. What do you enjoy doing with your spare time, your non-writing time?
I love watching movies. I also have a podcast devoted to the show LOST (www.after-lost.com). I broadcast high school football games for a local radio station. I also love watching football, reading comics and playing video games.
9. If you could invite any famous person, dead or alive, for dinner, who would it be and what would you eat?
I would love to eat with Stan Lee, co-creator of so many of my favorite comic book characters and a fun, energetic man in his own right. I would serve what ever “The Man” wanted to eat!
10. What are you working on now? Can you tell us a little about it?
I am working on short stories for several anthologies from Open Casket Press. I am also working on short stories for classic pulp anthologies from Pro Se. The second Misty Johnson book, Misty Johnson, Supernatural Dick in The National Maul will come out in 2012, and I am working on an untitled sci-fi novel for next year as well.
So check out my friend and be ready for good surprises when you make a new friend!
Regan's Books

Reads From Regan Taylor
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Is Something Wrong With This Picture?
On the news this morning on KCBS there was a lengthy piece on how a group of the Occupiers in the San Francisco Bay Area were having a "Knit In" and were spending the day knitting hats and scarves for the east coast occupiers.
Now that's a nice thought. It's a kind gesture...but I have a bit of a problem with it. How come they've never done this for the homeless right here in the Bay Area? Okay, okay, I don't know if individual people never did -- but I sure don't remember a knit in for them. And yes, I do realize that the occupiers on the east coast have people who are struggling to pay their rent or mortgage, put food on the table and pay their medical bills, etc. Country wide they have made tremendous strides. What bothers me is the attention for something that could and in my opinion, should include those closer to home. I suppose it's one of the things that bugs me about our own government--we're so quick to send money and supplies overseas but we don't seem to ever get it together to do something for those close to home. I've never seen the problem with isolationism but then I guess that goes with being an introvert.
In the past few years I've had a number of freinds lose their jobs, their homes, have to file bankruptcy and go on other assistance. I almost lost my own home because of the mortgage meltdown and it was the sheer luck of the draw that saved my home. Bankruptcy was looking like my only option for awhile there and with the help of friends and my own wits I managed to make it without losing my home or having to file bankruptcy. When our former governor had us furloughed for almost 2 years, according to the union powers that be, almost half the membership (45,000) had either lost their homes and/or filed bankruptcy. There was one Sacbee article about one of the EDD employees who lost her home and was living in her car, taking showers in the state building where she worked - and dispensing benefits such as food stamps when she didn't qualify. Something is very wrong with that.
In the past I've participated in the "one warm coat" project here in the San Francisco Bay area. It's easy to get distracted by life and somehow a pair of new socks ends up in a pocket. You know how it is. You just forget you put them there.
Three of my friends lost their homes the past year after their husbands lost their jobs. There are public service annoucements in our area about the face of hunger and how it could well be your next door neighbor and you'd never know it. The blurb says that your neighbor may be too embarrassed to tell you they don't have money for food and they are too shaken by their change in circumstances to venture to the food bank.
A close friend here in town had to cancel her health and dental insurance, has to go to the food bank and combs through the ads before deciding if she can afford a dozen eggs. Somehow I bought a case of cat food mine won't eat which hers happens to like -- so the food had a place to go. (No, she doesn't read my blog). I'll probably forget my cats don't like it and end up buying more of it in the next few weeks. You know how it is, you go to the store, see a case of cat food and can't remember whether or not your cats eat it so you buy it and then one of them tells you "Oh, we don't eat that". Thank goodness there's someplace for the food to go should that happen again.
I've seen more food collection bins the past few weeks than ever before -- even more than three years ago when our whole structure began to crumble. So many people have had to give up their pets that the humane society is offering deep discounts to anyone who can and will adopt.
But there is a whole segment of our population who was dealing with this a long time before. I don't begrudge the occupiers on the east coast the hand made scarves and hats. It's the news story about how wonderful the knitters are for making those hats and scarves so the east coasters can "occupy" but I'm not seeing anything about doing the same for the homeless in our area. In line with that story was how the City was looking at an abandoned hotel for the occupiers to occupy -- but they've never offered to do the same for the homeless in the area. What? They think the homeless wouldn't enjoy a hot shower and a kitchen to cook meals?
I don't know, maybe the knitters did say something about helping the homeless and it just didn't make the news story because it didn't seem like news. I wasn't there.
Now that's a nice thought. It's a kind gesture...but I have a bit of a problem with it. How come they've never done this for the homeless right here in the Bay Area? Okay, okay, I don't know if individual people never did -- but I sure don't remember a knit in for them. And yes, I do realize that the occupiers on the east coast have people who are struggling to pay their rent or mortgage, put food on the table and pay their medical bills, etc. Country wide they have made tremendous strides. What bothers me is the attention for something that could and in my opinion, should include those closer to home. I suppose it's one of the things that bugs me about our own government--we're so quick to send money and supplies overseas but we don't seem to ever get it together to do something for those close to home. I've never seen the problem with isolationism but then I guess that goes with being an introvert.
In the past few years I've had a number of freinds lose their jobs, their homes, have to file bankruptcy and go on other assistance. I almost lost my own home because of the mortgage meltdown and it was the sheer luck of the draw that saved my home. Bankruptcy was looking like my only option for awhile there and with the help of friends and my own wits I managed to make it without losing my home or having to file bankruptcy. When our former governor had us furloughed for almost 2 years, according to the union powers that be, almost half the membership (45,000) had either lost their homes and/or filed bankruptcy. There was one Sacbee article about one of the EDD employees who lost her home and was living in her car, taking showers in the state building where she worked - and dispensing benefits such as food stamps when she didn't qualify. Something is very wrong with that.
In the past I've participated in the "one warm coat" project here in the San Francisco Bay area. It's easy to get distracted by life and somehow a pair of new socks ends up in a pocket. You know how it is. You just forget you put them there.
Three of my friends lost their homes the past year after their husbands lost their jobs. There are public service annoucements in our area about the face of hunger and how it could well be your next door neighbor and you'd never know it. The blurb says that your neighbor may be too embarrassed to tell you they don't have money for food and they are too shaken by their change in circumstances to venture to the food bank.
A close friend here in town had to cancel her health and dental insurance, has to go to the food bank and combs through the ads before deciding if she can afford a dozen eggs. Somehow I bought a case of cat food mine won't eat which hers happens to like -- so the food had a place to go. (No, she doesn't read my blog). I'll probably forget my cats don't like it and end up buying more of it in the next few weeks. You know how it is, you go to the store, see a case of cat food and can't remember whether or not your cats eat it so you buy it and then one of them tells you "Oh, we don't eat that". Thank goodness there's someplace for the food to go should that happen again.
I've seen more food collection bins the past few weeks than ever before -- even more than three years ago when our whole structure began to crumble. So many people have had to give up their pets that the humane society is offering deep discounts to anyone who can and will adopt.
But there is a whole segment of our population who was dealing with this a long time before. I don't begrudge the occupiers on the east coast the hand made scarves and hats. It's the news story about how wonderful the knitters are for making those hats and scarves so the east coasters can "occupy" but I'm not seeing anything about doing the same for the homeless in our area. In line with that story was how the City was looking at an abandoned hotel for the occupiers to occupy -- but they've never offered to do the same for the homeless in the area. What? They think the homeless wouldn't enjoy a hot shower and a kitchen to cook meals?
I don't know, maybe the knitters did say something about helping the homeless and it just didn't make the news story because it didn't seem like news. I wasn't there.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Is It Life Or Is It Drama?
My cousin Mary and I were recently talking about people with drama, particularly gratuitious drama in our lives. Mary said something that so totally hit the nail on the head: "When it happens to them it's just their life; but if it happens to you, then it's drama."
So what started this discussion was, in part my recent advertisement for a new tenant/roommate. The one who moved our in September was all about the drama. Well, not really drama but getting as much attention as possible. Nothing was ever simple with her. She couldn't just say "it's hot, could we set the air conditioner a little lower?" Instead it would be "(long suffering sigh) I'm going into the bathroom to faint." Followed by a stagger towards the bathroom.
Okay, if it were me, I wouldn't want to faint in the bathroom if I could help it. Far too many things to bump my head on if I, in fact, fell. I'd rather do it lying down on my bed where I'd be guaranteed a soft landing.
We had a suspicious package at work one day. Police came, dealt with the package. Pretty much end of story till they exploded whatever it was outside the building. Very loud bang.
SHE also had a suspicious package -- a "dirty and smelly" guy came into her work and put his "dirty and smelly backpack" on her desk and she KNEW, she absolutely KNEW it had a bomb in it.
Really? In a Jaguar dealership? How come?
Oh, he didn't like how they fixed his car. Right.
With her it wasn't 5 ants she saw outside (which I could see) it was waking me up because of a "major infestation all over downstairs". Not a one to be found inside the house but I did spot the 5 or so outside.
For more you'll have to read McKenna three when it comes out. No, no, it's not about my former tenant/roommate. You know that whole thing about any resemblance to anyone living or dead? It couldn't be because it's purely coincidental.
Above are but a few examples of life with Nat.
I also used to work with a woman who was non-stop drama. Her life was like a Lifetime movie running headlong into Law & Order with a smidge of CSI thrown in. It was every day. There was a collective sigh of relief when she left.
So when it came time for a new tenant/roommate I included some very specific items: MUST like cats. Not just lived with them but MUST like them. And, NO DRAMA. My life was running drama free at work and home. It was all peaceful, calm, relaxed and dull. I like dull....it let's me go off in my imagination for the next book.
Wait! You say! You had whatshername providing such great story lines. Story lines are one thing, having it in my home is another. And that any resemblance thing....
So Mary and I were talking about this and how I put it in the roommate ad that those with drama need not apply. I loved her line about if it's about them it's just their life but if it happens to you, then it's drama. It's okay for them to have all this upheaval but you must not only be calm but emotionally available to them at all times.
So this guy, let's call him Dave like in Dave from 2001 and Hal asking him "what are you doing, Dave", called and at first all seemed pretty nice. He spoke about being done with drama in his life...sounded really good.
So in 5 days we had:
Arriving drunk on move in day and bursting into tears.
Cops (friends from my former department) being called out to his former residence moving him out.
Tears on day two because of the drama at the old house.
Slamming doors when I wouldn't agree to dinner the next night.
More slamming the next day cause I still wouldn't go to dinner.
Hysterical female friend who isn't a girlfriend but wants to get in his pants but he's not interested showing up and ringing the bell and banging on the door for almost 5 minutes (yes, yours truly the Virgo watched the clock while trying to get on some clothes to go downstairs to see where the fire was). She was hysterical because his voicemail was full. Yes indeedy, his voicemail was full....but that wasn't drama because, well "that's just Judy."
The next day he disappeared.
And then the next day I came home to find someone had been in my house, left doors opened and unlocked, changed the clocks and took some things....he said it was okay because it was a friend of his. Oh...did I mention he was in rehab and couldn't do those things himself? Not that they needed to be done -- especially leaving open the doors with three indoor cats. (cats are fine -- not missing him at all).
But he insists that isn't drama.
His Eyes has been out about a year (www.sirenbookstrand.com) and Her Eyes was released this week (www.Mundania.com) and book 3 is called Their Eyes. I was having a bit of a issue with where the story was going to go.....thanks to my drama free zone....not anymore.
So what started this discussion was, in part my recent advertisement for a new tenant/roommate. The one who moved our in September was all about the drama. Well, not really drama but getting as much attention as possible. Nothing was ever simple with her. She couldn't just say "it's hot, could we set the air conditioner a little lower?" Instead it would be "(long suffering sigh) I'm going into the bathroom to faint." Followed by a stagger towards the bathroom.
Okay, if it were me, I wouldn't want to faint in the bathroom if I could help it. Far too many things to bump my head on if I, in fact, fell. I'd rather do it lying down on my bed where I'd be guaranteed a soft landing.
We had a suspicious package at work one day. Police came, dealt with the package. Pretty much end of story till they exploded whatever it was outside the building. Very loud bang.
SHE also had a suspicious package -- a "dirty and smelly" guy came into her work and put his "dirty and smelly backpack" on her desk and she KNEW, she absolutely KNEW it had a bomb in it.
Really? In a Jaguar dealership? How come?
Oh, he didn't like how they fixed his car. Right.
With her it wasn't 5 ants she saw outside (which I could see) it was waking me up because of a "major infestation all over downstairs". Not a one to be found inside the house but I did spot the 5 or so outside.
For more you'll have to read McKenna three when it comes out. No, no, it's not about my former tenant/roommate. You know that whole thing about any resemblance to anyone living or dead? It couldn't be because it's purely coincidental.
Above are but a few examples of life with Nat.
I also used to work with a woman who was non-stop drama. Her life was like a Lifetime movie running headlong into Law & Order with a smidge of CSI thrown in. It was every day. There was a collective sigh of relief when she left.
So when it came time for a new tenant/roommate I included some very specific items: MUST like cats. Not just lived with them but MUST like them. And, NO DRAMA. My life was running drama free at work and home. It was all peaceful, calm, relaxed and dull. I like dull....it let's me go off in my imagination for the next book.
Wait! You say! You had whatshername providing such great story lines. Story lines are one thing, having it in my home is another. And that any resemblance thing....
So Mary and I were talking about this and how I put it in the roommate ad that those with drama need not apply. I loved her line about if it's about them it's just their life but if it happens to you, then it's drama. It's okay for them to have all this upheaval but you must not only be calm but emotionally available to them at all times.
So this guy, let's call him Dave like in Dave from 2001 and Hal asking him "what are you doing, Dave", called and at first all seemed pretty nice. He spoke about being done with drama in his life...sounded really good.
So in 5 days we had:
Arriving drunk on move in day and bursting into tears.
Cops (friends from my former department) being called out to his former residence moving him out.
Tears on day two because of the drama at the old house.
Slamming doors when I wouldn't agree to dinner the next night.
More slamming the next day cause I still wouldn't go to dinner.
Hysterical female friend who isn't a girlfriend but wants to get in his pants but he's not interested showing up and ringing the bell and banging on the door for almost 5 minutes (yes, yours truly the Virgo watched the clock while trying to get on some clothes to go downstairs to see where the fire was). She was hysterical because his voicemail was full. Yes indeedy, his voicemail was full....but that wasn't drama because, well "that's just Judy."
The next day he disappeared.
And then the next day I came home to find someone had been in my house, left doors opened and unlocked, changed the clocks and took some things....he said it was okay because it was a friend of his. Oh...did I mention he was in rehab and couldn't do those things himself? Not that they needed to be done -- especially leaving open the doors with three indoor cats. (cats are fine -- not missing him at all).
But he insists that isn't drama.
His Eyes has been out about a year (www.sirenbookstrand.com) and Her Eyes was released this week (www.Mundania.com) and book 3 is called Their Eyes. I was having a bit of a issue with where the story was going to go.....thanks to my drama free zone....not anymore.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Welcome Skyla Dawn Cameron to our Blog Tour This Week!
I asked fellow kitty-afficianado Skyla a non-cat related question recently:
You get to go back in time to talk to anyone you want about your latest book. Who do you go to, what do you ask them and what do you think they will tell you?
She had a very interesting repsonse. One that evoked so many images for me I have to read this book. Here's what she had to say:
I thought and thought and thought about this excellent question...and drew a blank. There are people from the past I’d love to talk to, but not about my books—more than likely about theirs. But then I don’t particularly live in reality most of the time, so why do I have to pick a “real” person from the past?
I’d go back just over three hundred years to speak to a seventeen year old Romanian girl named Ana, recently betrayed, killed, and turned into a vampire who, many years later, would be known as Zara Lain—the main character of my current series that begins with Bloodlines (and continued with Hunter this past August, with Lineage coming in February and Exhumed later next year). After awakening early and cannonballing pretty far on the crazy spectrum, she ended up locked in her maker’s basement in the hopes of her getting her back to sanity. Or, at the very least, to keep her from randomly slaughtering innocents for awhile.
I want to go to that basement, before she breaks out and kills a bunch of humans, when she’s angry and hurt and out of her freakin’ mind—and I’d tell her about her life now. True, she’s in the middle of conspiracies and secret societies and the apocalypse and several attempts on her life, which may sound like it all sucks. But I’d go into that basement—with her firmly secured to a chair or something, and maybe a big ol’ set of bars between us, and me armed with a stake and a flamethrower—sit down, set the books out before me, and tell her, “You’re going to be okay.
“Your heart is broken, but it will heal. Your identity is shattered, but you will build a new one. You’ve been betrayed, you will have your bloody revenge, and it won’t fix you, but building and growing and changing will repair some of the damage. You’ll make mistakes, and even when you think you’ve learned from them, you’ll make them again because that’s what everyone does. And that’s okay. You’ll learn to trust again—have faith in people, even some humans. You’ll be in love—maddening, schoolgirl-sighing-dreamily, will-probably-turn-angsty love. You’ll gain a sense of humour about injustices you’ve suffered. You will always get back up when knocked down. You are worth saving, even if you are unable to accept it. You will continue to be betrayed, you will continue to be hurt, and your heart might break again, but you will survive anything and everything, always.
“Ana is dead, but Zara lives on. And she’ll never let you down.”
Actually, I’d tell a whole lot of people that if I could.
I imagine Ana would respond with lots of incoherent ramblings, screaming, and general threats I won’t understand because she doesn’t speak English. But I would have to hope, somewhere, she’d remember it.
Then I’d ask Ana for some details about early eighteenth century Romania because history is not my forte and I keep getting stuck having to write flashback scenes. Ugh.
Thank you for having me, Regan!
About the Author: Award-winning author Skyla Dawn Cameron has been writing approximately forever. Her early storytelling days were spent acting out strange horror/fairy tales with the help of her many dolls, and little has changed except that she now keeps those stories on paper. She signed her first book contract at age twenty-one for River, a unique werewolf tale, which was released to critical and reader praise alike and won her the 2007 EPPIE Award for Best Fantasy. She now has multiple series on the go to keep her busy, which is great for her attention deficit disorder.
Skyla lives in Southern Ontario where she dabbles in art, is an avid gamer, and watches Buffy reruns. She’s naturally brunette, occasionally a redhead, and will probably go blonde again soon. If she ever becomes a grown-up, she wants to run her own pub, as well as become world dictator.
You can find her online at www.skyladawncameron.com, www.twitter.com/skyladawn, www.facebook.com/skyladawncameron
About Bloodlines: If you’re in her way, it sucks to be you.
After three hundred years of unlife, vampire Zara Lain has seemingly done it all, and she's now making a living as a successful thief-turned-assassin. Her newest assignment seems simple enough--kill the aging leader of the O'Connor Coven and his only heir, and she'll have another ten million in the bank.
But in the dangerous world of the supernatural, few things are ever “simple.”
When a massive assault decimates the continent's population of powerful witches and warlocks, and its orchestrator has vampires being hunted down and captured, Zara realizes the tables have turned and now she'll be playing the hero. Forced to join with a smart-mouthed fellow vampire, a demonologist who's also a fan of hers, a recently widowed—and frequently brooding—warlock, and her best friend's mom, Zara's grudgingly willing to do what she can to save the day.
If only people would stop ruining all her outfits.
Catch excerpts, fan art, the series in chronological order, free stories, and more at www.zaralain.com.
You get to go back in time to talk to anyone you want about your latest book. Who do you go to, what do you ask them and what do you think they will tell you?
She had a very interesting repsonse. One that evoked so many images for me I have to read this book. Here's what she had to say:
I thought and thought and thought about this excellent question...and drew a blank. There are people from the past I’d love to talk to, but not about my books—more than likely about theirs. But then I don’t particularly live in reality most of the time, so why do I have to pick a “real” person from the past?
I’d go back just over three hundred years to speak to a seventeen year old Romanian girl named Ana, recently betrayed, killed, and turned into a vampire who, many years later, would be known as Zara Lain—the main character of my current series that begins with Bloodlines (and continued with Hunter this past August, with Lineage coming in February and Exhumed later next year). After awakening early and cannonballing pretty far on the crazy spectrum, she ended up locked in her maker’s basement in the hopes of her getting her back to sanity. Or, at the very least, to keep her from randomly slaughtering innocents for awhile.
I want to go to that basement, before she breaks out and kills a bunch of humans, when she’s angry and hurt and out of her freakin’ mind—and I’d tell her about her life now. True, she’s in the middle of conspiracies and secret societies and the apocalypse and several attempts on her life, which may sound like it all sucks. But I’d go into that basement—with her firmly secured to a chair or something, and maybe a big ol’ set of bars between us, and me armed with a stake and a flamethrower—sit down, set the books out before me, and tell her, “You’re going to be okay.
“Your heart is broken, but it will heal. Your identity is shattered, but you will build a new one. You’ve been betrayed, you will have your bloody revenge, and it won’t fix you, but building and growing and changing will repair some of the damage. You’ll make mistakes, and even when you think you’ve learned from them, you’ll make them again because that’s what everyone does. And that’s okay. You’ll learn to trust again—have faith in people, even some humans. You’ll be in love—maddening, schoolgirl-sighing-dreamily, will-probably-turn-angsty love. You’ll gain a sense of humour about injustices you’ve suffered. You will always get back up when knocked down. You are worth saving, even if you are unable to accept it. You will continue to be betrayed, you will continue to be hurt, and your heart might break again, but you will survive anything and everything, always.
“Ana is dead, but Zara lives on. And she’ll never let you down.”
Actually, I’d tell a whole lot of people that if I could.
I imagine Ana would respond with lots of incoherent ramblings, screaming, and general threats I won’t understand because she doesn’t speak English. But I would have to hope, somewhere, she’d remember it.
Then I’d ask Ana for some details about early eighteenth century Romania because history is not my forte and I keep getting stuck having to write flashback scenes. Ugh.
Thank you for having me, Regan!
About the Author: Award-winning author Skyla Dawn Cameron has been writing approximately forever. Her early storytelling days were spent acting out strange horror/fairy tales with the help of her many dolls, and little has changed except that she now keeps those stories on paper. She signed her first book contract at age twenty-one for River, a unique werewolf tale, which was released to critical and reader praise alike and won her the 2007 EPPIE Award for Best Fantasy. She now has multiple series on the go to keep her busy, which is great for her attention deficit disorder.
Skyla lives in Southern Ontario where she dabbles in art, is an avid gamer, and watches Buffy reruns. She’s naturally brunette, occasionally a redhead, and will probably go blonde again soon. If she ever becomes a grown-up, she wants to run her own pub, as well as become world dictator.
You can find her online at www.skyladawncameron.com, www.twitter.com/skyladawn, www.facebook.com/skyladawncameron
About Bloodlines: If you’re in her way, it sucks to be you.
After three hundred years of unlife, vampire Zara Lain has seemingly done it all, and she's now making a living as a successful thief-turned-assassin. Her newest assignment seems simple enough--kill the aging leader of the O'Connor Coven and his only heir, and she'll have another ten million in the bank.
But in the dangerous world of the supernatural, few things are ever “simple.”
When a massive assault decimates the continent's population of powerful witches and warlocks, and its orchestrator has vampires being hunted down and captured, Zara realizes the tables have turned and now she'll be playing the hero. Forced to join with a smart-mouthed fellow vampire, a demonologist who's also a fan of hers, a recently widowed—and frequently brooding—warlock, and her best friend's mom, Zara's grudgingly willing to do what she can to save the day.
If only people would stop ruining all her outfits.
Catch excerpts, fan art, the series in chronological order, free stories, and more at www.zaralain.com.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Introducing Sharon Poppen! My Awe-struck Blog Tour Guest this Week!
Hi Regan, I’m so happy to be guest blogging at your site this week. I do love to write, but marketing, not so much. So, when these opportunities to connect with new readers in distant cities and even distant countries come alone, it’s a real treat. This past week has been a busy week for me with setting up book signings, arranging for sales tables at various sales venues and polishing up some workshop presentations that I will be moderating right after the first of the year. But, best of all, I’m finding time each day to ‘play’ with the charcters of The Band, my latest novel in progress. It is book number six in my series of the Farrell family, that debuted in my first novel After the War, Before the Peace. The first book began with the story of four Southern brothers just after the U.S. Civil War and The Band features their great, grandsons in the 1950s who have formed a rock and roll band. I have a seventh book in mind already. I just signed a contract for the first sequel, so I’m hoping readers will want to follow this family from generation to generation. Now, on to some questions from some fellow authors who have been along for this wild Awe-Struck authors blog tour.
Why do you write?
Because I enjoy it. I love playing ‘what if?’. My imagination has always been one of my most valuable treasures. Instead of dreading to have to ‘wait’ for something, I almost look forward to the opportunities when I’m at an airport, doctor’s office, bank line or at the dreaded DMV. My imagination can create a story about almost any of the people I see in those places. Just recently, I noticed a strikingly handsome man sitting alone in a restaurant. He was nervously checking his watch quite frequently and watching the entrance. He looked apprehensive, yet excited. I imagined him as a cheating spouse awaiting his equally cheating paramour to arrive. I had to edit my imagined story when a tall, handsome man arrived. After a warm hug, the man who had been waiting relaxed. The men sat down, but continued to share a smile while holding hands across the table. My dinner date arrived and my attention was diverted, but it had sure been a lot more fun writing my little story, wondering why my date was late. So, like I said, I love the ‘what if?’ possibilities of life.
How long have you been writing?
I started imaging stories as a child, especially when it came to playing paper dolls with my neighborhood girl friends. As I got older, I got busy with life, a husband and kids. After my divorce, I found myself with time on my hands after the kids went to bed. That’s when I started ‘listening’ to my Southern brothers tell me the story of their life after the U.S. civil war. I’d get out the old typewriter and pound out a few paragraphs here and there. I never shared it with anyone. When I was offered early retirement from the communications company I worked for, I took it. Then after a couple of years of 24 hour togetherness with my second husband, I knew I had to either kill him, get a job or go back to school. The first two options were fleeting moments of whimsy, but the school idea hit home. I enrolled in a local junior college and that’s when I began writing seriously. I had a couple of great Lit professors who felt I had some talent and urged me to get busy. My first published piece was a Haiku. I don’t enjoy poetry writing, but working with that genre really helps to learn how to be succinct and precise. So, I guess I’ve been writing seriously for about 15 years now.
What interests and hobbies do you have, aside from writing?
I love going to movies, most genres, except vampires and horror-for-horrors sake. I love to read, long saga type novels and almost always have a book in progress. I love to travel by RV. I don’t care for tours or cruises, but put me in an RV and on a backwoods, two-lane road, a campfire every night and I’m a happy camper. I love playing bunco and a couple times a month I like to head on over to the casino and play some keno.
What’s your goal for the next 5 years, writing career-wise?
I’m love to have all seven books of my After the War, Before the Peace saga become a hugely popular series and maybe even made into a TV mini-series. I’d love to see one of my books on the New York Times bestseller list. And, I’m still waiting for the call from Stephen Spielberg, Ron Howard or Penny Marshall to ask for the rights to film any one of my novels. Tee Hee. I can dream, can’t I?
Author Bio -
Sharon Poppen ( www.sharonpoppen.com ) has won awards from Arizona
Authors Assoc. and National League of American Pen Women. Her western novels
After the War, Before the Peace, Hannah and Abby-Finding More Than Gold are
available at Amazon Books, most web based book sellers and from her website.
Her work has appeared in such publications as A Flasher's Dozen, Desert
Treasures, Skive, Offerings from the Oasis, A Long Story Short, Apollo Lyre
and Laughter Loaf. Her workshops on Journaling, Short Story Writing and
Blogging bring rave reviews. Sharon is a member of Lake Havasu City Writer's
Group.
Book Blurb -
In 1897, Abby Barron, a young Irish-American girl, loses her cousin to a
fire and with him the plans to escape Chicago to search for gold in the Yukon
fields. A want ad for a cook revives the plan and she soon hires on with Paddy
and Tommy, a medicine-show man and his son.
Despite Abby's wanderlust and Tommy's desire to settle down, the two
fall in love. But it's a long road to fulfill Abby's dreams of reaching the Yukon--one
that tests the bonds of love and uncovers long-held family secrets.
Book Excerpt:
Eleven-year-old Liam was sitting at the kitchen table peering over an atlas. He called to his red-headed cousin. “Red, come here. Look.”
With tears in her eyes, Abby made her way over and slid into a chair next to him. The desolate ten-year-old had just lost her mother. The poor, young woman had died of pneumonia.
He reached over and patted her hand. “Abby, don’t cry now.”
She looked up. He never called her Abby; it was always Red. His eyes were a little glassy too, but he managed a smile.
“Look.” He pointed to a map of the world.
“Yes?”
He swept his hand across a centerfold map that spanned two large pages. “All this is out there for us.”
“What do you mean?” She sniffled.
“Well, you know how your Ma always talked about seeing the world.”
“Yes?” Abby started crying again.
“Come on, Abby. Listen.” He reached over and clumsily wiped her tears away with his big, awkward adolescent hands. “I’ve an idea.”
She sniffled and looked with trust into his eyes
“You and me will travel to all the places your Ma used to talk about.”
“How?” Abby was old enough to realize that her Ma had been a dreamer. The Barrons and the Moynahans were lace-curtain, Irish poor. They spent their lives trying to make a mean living; there was no time for frivolous travel. Her mother’s dreams had brought a measure of scorn from many of the neighbors. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of Aunt Kitty and Uncle Maudie, Lord knows where or how Abby and her mother would have lived. An unmarried woman with a child was a pariah in this close-knit Catholic community.
Liam smiled and set his jaw in that determined pose that always preceded his occasional streaks of stubbornness. He spoke to Abby’s eyes in a firm voice. “I don’t know yet.” Abby lowered her head. He lifted her chin and continued. “But, Abby, we’re going to do it. You and me.” His eyes challenged. “Have I ever let you down?”
She shook her head no. Then, despite her misery, she felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You won’t forget?”
He smiled broadly. “Forget you, Red?” He tousled her hair. “Not likely.” He turned and refocused on the atlas. “Come on. Look, here’s New York and here’s Washington where the president lives.” He swept his arm across a blue expanse. “And look here, Paris.” Soon the two of them were engrossed in the atlas and Abby’s healing began. The atlas became their bible over the years. As news events and school topics brought strange and exotic places into their lives, they found them on the map and often added them to their list of future destinations.
Website - www.sharonpoppen.com
Blog Site - http://poppensthoughtsonwritingandstuff.blogspot.com/
Email - poppen@citlink.net
List of Published Novels -
After the War, Before the Peace - Xlibris Publishing
Hannah - Virtual Tales Publishing
Abby-Finding More Than Gold - Awe-Struck Publishing
Why do you write?
Because I enjoy it. I love playing ‘what if?’. My imagination has always been one of my most valuable treasures. Instead of dreading to have to ‘wait’ for something, I almost look forward to the opportunities when I’m at an airport, doctor’s office, bank line or at the dreaded DMV. My imagination can create a story about almost any of the people I see in those places. Just recently, I noticed a strikingly handsome man sitting alone in a restaurant. He was nervously checking his watch quite frequently and watching the entrance. He looked apprehensive, yet excited. I imagined him as a cheating spouse awaiting his equally cheating paramour to arrive. I had to edit my imagined story when a tall, handsome man arrived. After a warm hug, the man who had been waiting relaxed. The men sat down, but continued to share a smile while holding hands across the table. My dinner date arrived and my attention was diverted, but it had sure been a lot more fun writing my little story, wondering why my date was late. So, like I said, I love the ‘what if?’ possibilities of life.
How long have you been writing?
I started imaging stories as a child, especially when it came to playing paper dolls with my neighborhood girl friends. As I got older, I got busy with life, a husband and kids. After my divorce, I found myself with time on my hands after the kids went to bed. That’s when I started ‘listening’ to my Southern brothers tell me the story of their life after the U.S. civil war. I’d get out the old typewriter and pound out a few paragraphs here and there. I never shared it with anyone. When I was offered early retirement from the communications company I worked for, I took it. Then after a couple of years of 24 hour togetherness with my second husband, I knew I had to either kill him, get a job or go back to school. The first two options were fleeting moments of whimsy, but the school idea hit home. I enrolled in a local junior college and that’s when I began writing seriously. I had a couple of great Lit professors who felt I had some talent and urged me to get busy. My first published piece was a Haiku. I don’t enjoy poetry writing, but working with that genre really helps to learn how to be succinct and precise. So, I guess I’ve been writing seriously for about 15 years now.
What interests and hobbies do you have, aside from writing?
I love going to movies, most genres, except vampires and horror-for-horrors sake. I love to read, long saga type novels and almost always have a book in progress. I love to travel by RV. I don’t care for tours or cruises, but put me in an RV and on a backwoods, two-lane road, a campfire every night and I’m a happy camper. I love playing bunco and a couple times a month I like to head on over to the casino and play some keno.
What’s your goal for the next 5 years, writing career-wise?
I’m love to have all seven books of my After the War, Before the Peace saga become a hugely popular series and maybe even made into a TV mini-series. I’d love to see one of my books on the New York Times bestseller list. And, I’m still waiting for the call from Stephen Spielberg, Ron Howard or Penny Marshall to ask for the rights to film any one of my novels. Tee Hee. I can dream, can’t I?
Author Bio -
Sharon Poppen ( www.sharonpoppen.com ) has won awards from Arizona
Authors Assoc. and National League of American Pen Women. Her western novels
After the War, Before the Peace, Hannah and Abby-Finding More Than Gold are
available at Amazon Books, most web based book sellers and from her website.
Her work has appeared in such publications as A Flasher's Dozen, Desert
Treasures, Skive, Offerings from the Oasis, A Long Story Short, Apollo Lyre
and Laughter Loaf. Her workshops on Journaling, Short Story Writing and
Blogging bring rave reviews. Sharon is a member of Lake Havasu City Writer's
Group.
Book Blurb -
In 1897, Abby Barron, a young Irish-American girl, loses her cousin to a
fire and with him the plans to escape Chicago to search for gold in the Yukon
fields. A want ad for a cook revives the plan and she soon hires on with Paddy
and Tommy, a medicine-show man and his son.
Despite Abby's wanderlust and Tommy's desire to settle down, the two
fall in love. But it's a long road to fulfill Abby's dreams of reaching the Yukon--one
that tests the bonds of love and uncovers long-held family secrets.
Book Excerpt:
Eleven-year-old Liam was sitting at the kitchen table peering over an atlas. He called to his red-headed cousin. “Red, come here. Look.”
With tears in her eyes, Abby made her way over and slid into a chair next to him. The desolate ten-year-old had just lost her mother. The poor, young woman had died of pneumonia.
He reached over and patted her hand. “Abby, don’t cry now.”
She looked up. He never called her Abby; it was always Red. His eyes were a little glassy too, but he managed a smile.
“Look.” He pointed to a map of the world.
“Yes?”
He swept his hand across a centerfold map that spanned two large pages. “All this is out there for us.”
“What do you mean?” She sniffled.
“Well, you know how your Ma always talked about seeing the world.”
“Yes?” Abby started crying again.
“Come on, Abby. Listen.” He reached over and clumsily wiped her tears away with his big, awkward adolescent hands. “I’ve an idea.”
She sniffled and looked with trust into his eyes
“You and me will travel to all the places your Ma used to talk about.”
“How?” Abby was old enough to realize that her Ma had been a dreamer. The Barrons and the Moynahans were lace-curtain, Irish poor. They spent their lives trying to make a mean living; there was no time for frivolous travel. Her mother’s dreams had brought a measure of scorn from many of the neighbors. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of Aunt Kitty and Uncle Maudie, Lord knows where or how Abby and her mother would have lived. An unmarried woman with a child was a pariah in this close-knit Catholic community.
Liam smiled and set his jaw in that determined pose that always preceded his occasional streaks of stubbornness. He spoke to Abby’s eyes in a firm voice. “I don’t know yet.” Abby lowered her head. He lifted her chin and continued. “But, Abby, we’re going to do it. You and me.” His eyes challenged. “Have I ever let you down?”
She shook her head no. Then, despite her misery, she felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You won’t forget?”
He smiled broadly. “Forget you, Red?” He tousled her hair. “Not likely.” He turned and refocused on the atlas. “Come on. Look, here’s New York and here’s Washington where the president lives.” He swept his arm across a blue expanse. “And look here, Paris.” Soon the two of them were engrossed in the atlas and Abby’s healing began. The atlas became their bible over the years. As news events and school topics brought strange and exotic places into their lives, they found them on the map and often added them to their list of future destinations.
Website - www.sharonpoppen.com
Blog Site - http://poppensthoughtsonwritingandstuff.blogspot.com/
Email - poppen@citlink.net
List of Published Novels -
After the War, Before the Peace - Xlibris Publishing
Hannah - Virtual Tales Publishing
Abby-Finding More Than Gold - Awe-Struck Publishing
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Welcome to Christine London!
I recently asked Christine one of my favorite questions:
You get to go back in time to talk to anyone you want about your latest book. Who do you go to, what do you ask them and what do you think they will tell you.
What a great question, Regan. Thanks for having me as guest today.
If I were to go back in time involving my work in progress to talk to someone about its theme, I would need to speak with someone who has already died. Perhaps the best person would be a relative as I know them most intimately and could therefore have the deepest interaction. I would ask them to tell me about the aftertime and what things they would have done to make their time here all the more meaningful. But then this is sad as it involves regrets and the past...
What I would prefer to have the power to do is to go forward and speak to someone after their passing about what they could have done, should have done to make their life all the richer—to bring love into this brief existence to compliment their already amazing success.
There is a man I know that has all the trapping of earthly success, but has not accepted one special person into his heart to enrich his life far beyond what all his earthly success has already brought him. To speak with him in future time might have the power to help him make better choices today. The power of salvation in this one and only lifetime is much more alluring to me than regrets.
My work in progress:
One More Day
"Cole Phillips was dead.
Four years later his wife Tara is without any answers.
Is a universe that so cruelly tore her husband from her actually capable of bestowing such a gift?
One More Day… "
A tale of the return to life of a man so sorely missed by his widow the power of her will alone causes a rift in the universe, and with it, an opportunity of which other have only dreamed.
Four years later his wife Tara is without any answers.
Is a universe that so cruelly tore her husband from her actually capable of bestowing such a gift?
One More Day… "
A tale of the return to life of a man so sorely missed by his widow the power of her will alone causes a rift in the universe, and with it, an opportunity of which other have only dreamed.
It is a universal experience— to lose someone too young, too soon, without a proper goodbye...and the desire to have a few more precious hours together. In One More Day I explore the emotions and strength of love to overcome even the finality of death. What would be discussed, how would one pass the hours if they were given such a gift with the person who had meant the most to them in their life? How can they learn to move on?
And this man who lives now that I might wish to visit in the future hereafter—what would he say? What would I ask hm? What would he tell me?
"Now that you have accolades, success, worldwide travel and have participated in heart pounding activities and wonders most only dream of, what would you most liked to have experienced that you did not?"
His answer?
"I would allow myself to see what was right in front of me---love. That special person that could have shared all my success through her eyes and mine. My life is not too busy to welcome that kind of intimacy. Life shared, even with insane travel and time constraint IS possible. The richness of this intimacy is so much deeper than the adrenaline of the 'right now' because there are no tomorrows hereafter. And there is nothing more important than grabbing the 'brass ring' here and now."
I think that most of us assume we have many more opportunities, many more tomorrows to live our ultimate dream—to love an be loved. To have the gift of being able to speak to someone who does not have the joy of this intimate sharing in his life— in the light of the finality of the hereafter...now that would be profoundly powerful in changing his life—other's lives— here and now.
Leap Of Faith
Awe Struck Publishing
Now Available:
http://tinyurl.com/43w4ho7
Film student Faith Holmes is on an Italian holiday bought and paid for -- a familial inducement to finding an Italian husband. She wants none of it. Boredom and curiosity make for a volatile mix and Faith is lured into the heart of the island of Forio's exclusive international film festival not as guest, but crasher. Hollywood's premiere publicist Hunter Jameson has more than enough on his plate when his client, English film sensation Alex Winslow decides he's departing from the straight and narrow. One American party crasher should be the least of his worries. He has no idea that Alex’s growing feelings for Faith rival his own. The only thing for certain is his life will never be the same.
Bio:
Christine London was born in Chicago, Illinois, but left the long winters of the Midwest as a child to find her roots in the sun and charm of California, both North and South. Her adopted home became Great Britain when she spent a year of college in the east end of London with three male flat mates; one from each country on the main island. Her fascination and love affair with all things British has grown over the years, facilitated by summers spent trading houses.
Christine London was born in Chicago, Illinois, but left the long winters of the Midwest as a child to find her roots in the sun and charm of California, both North and South. Her adopted home became Great Britain when she spent a year of college in the east end of London with three male flat mates; one from each country on the main island. Her fascination and love affair with all things British has grown over the years, facilitated by summers spent trading houses.
Graduating from Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles, Chris continued with family, teaching, singing in a jazz sextet and running foot races (and winning) before discovering her true passion….the romance and adventure of writing.
It took one Scot to awaken her poetic appreciation of Scotland's natural beauty, and another Scot to ignite her passion for writing. Thank you, gentlemen.
It took one Scot to awaken her poetic appreciation of Scotland's natural beauty, and another Scot to ignite her passion for writing. Thank you, gentlemen.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Meet Sue Roebuck! My Next Guest On Our Awe-struck Author Tour!
Hi Regan and thank you so much for having me today on Regan Taylor’s World. It’s great that we’re fellow Awe-Struck authors and I’m so enjoying this blog tour.
You gave me the chance to go back in time and meet one person and then asked who I’d like to meet and what I’d ask him or her about my latest work in progress.
I thought about this for ages because there are just so many people I’d like to speak to who are from the past. I can’t say I need to talk to anyone about my novel “Perfect Score” because although it’s set in the 1960’s and 70’s I was alive then and feel I got information pretty straight (excuse the pun). I currently have two works in progress – one a Novella called Hewhay Hall that will soon be on the market, but that’s a dark thriller. My full-length novel, When the Moon Fails, is set mostly in Portugal and harks back to an era before the Revolution (1974). I wouldn’t mind talking to a revolutionary – especially one who was imprisoned by the Secret Police (PIDE) during the difficult times. But no I won’t go there just yet.
Who I’d really really like to talk to is my Dad.
When I was a kid, my Dad was omniscient, infallible. Just there. Then when I was a hormone-fueled teenager, full of angst, thoughts of boys, and negatives, I didn’t think too much about him at all. Oh dear, that sounds terrible and makes me teary.
Since his death I’ve found out so much about him, yet – at the same time - have so little information. And that’s why I’d love to speak to him now. I want to know just who my father was.
He was only sixteen when the WWII broke out, and – probably by lying about his age – joined the Royal Air Force. Throughout the War, right to the end, he flew on the Lancaster bombers and a Dutch friend of mine who is a Navy officer and who saw my father’s log-books was astounded that he survived so many flying missions.
I do know my father had some hairy times. His Lancaster was caught in enemy fire one night and the wing caught fire. The crew carried knives in their socks because they’d rather kill themselves than be caught. But the pilot had two options – to try and limp to Sweden or to put the plane into a steep dive. He chose the latter and succeeded in extinguishing the fire so they managed to get back to England .
That’s my Dad I’m talking about – I’m so amazed because he was such a quiet, gentle man who never spoke about his experiences. I’ve seen photographs of him in Ceylon (Sri Lanka ) – where he went on a troop ship on which conditions were abysmal and which was constantly under threat of being torpedoed. In the sunny photos he looks so happy and relaxed, posing with other officers, leaning against a Jeep and holding a mongoose.
How I’d love to know more about this wonderful man. Perhaps one day I’ll find a way of discovering something and then I’ll write a book about it.
A huge coincidence is that I work with two British women whose fathers were also in Ceylon with the RAF at exactly the same time as my father. But, like me, they’ve lost their fathers and their stories with them.
A friend who is an RAF Wing Commander at the moment with NATO saw my father’s portrait photo taken during the War and in which he’s wearing his uniform. After studying the photo for some time, my friend said, “Those were the boys who really knew how to go through it.”
Now onto literary matters!
“Perfect Score” (http://www.awe-struck.net/books/perfect_score.html) was published first as an e-book in Sept 2010 and then as a trade paperback in May 2010 and has been receiving great reviews.
Here’s a short excerpt:
Spring 1968
The wind blew straight off the frozen prairie and rattled the ill-fitting window panes in his hut. Sam opened one eye. Five am . Don't ask him how he knew. It wasn't the owl hoot, or the coyote yip, or the creek ice splitting, or even the cattle coughing that gave it away because these noises were constant throughout the night. He just knew it was time to get up.
He rolled out from under the warmth of an old moth-eaten wolf pelt and, without bothering to light his paraffin lamp, pulled on jeans and a stiff-with-wear plaid work-shirt. He laced up scruffy, ancient leather boots before finishing it all off with a green wool jacket.
I'll block those holes with creek mud, he thought as the wind whistled through the gaps in the raw-wood plank walls. He put his shoulder to the door. Oil for that too -- maybe Josh Pike had some in the barn.
He'd hardly put his left foot outside when snow seeped through a hole in the boot sole. Standing on one leg, he broke the ice in his ceramic sink, splashed the small amount of water pooled there on his face and drank a handful.
Six hours of shoveling hay and muck, he thought as his boots rang on the iced-up alkali path leading to the main yard. A Canadian goose hooted a teasing honk. Laugh all you want, birdie, Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. At least I'm not up to my butt in freezing water. Just my left foot. His hair blown horizontal, he bent into the biting wind and squinted through stinging hail as three yellow cow dogs rushed up the path, their tails whirling, breath white and freezing on their whiskers.
"Can't find a darn cow dog when I want one," he'd heard Josh Pike complain the previous day.
"That's because they're always with the boy," Mrs. Pike responded. "Sam."
"But I feed 'em."
"Animals love Sam because he has such a kind face and everyone knows amber eyes make the animals feel lucky."
"Never heard such a load of horse poop in all my life," Josh Pike muttered, his eyes skimming his land.
The Pike place had pretensions to be a ranch but Sam didn't think it quite made it. Divided into three sections: a creek, steep terrain and some disordered pastures lying in a flood plain, the property bordered the much larger Raw Pines ranch next door. Josh Pike told Sam he'd worked the land for twenty years but, as far as Sam could see, with little to show for it except the old man's love for the place which was as rigid as the winter weather: driving stinging snowstorms that stank of rusty nails. And a wind that could blow a calf over.
Three hours later, the range in the distance just visible across the frozen prairie, Sam removed his jacket, hung it on a gate post and pondered his next task.
He took a closer look at the steer lying on its side, kicking its legs and bellowing as if Sam was about to knife it. Can't have been easy forcing your darned head through the rails in the fence, he mentally told it. He rolled his sleeves up, picked up an axe and got to work on the fence rail with several powerful swings, taking care not to jolt the animal's head.
"Cain't you smell that good air?" Josh Pike had clambered onto a section of the fence, unaware or uncaring that he was tossed up a few inches every time the axe hit the rail. He raised his weathered face to the watery sun with all the pleasure and leisure of a sunbather on a distant beach. "Have to punch the bastard to get him in the chute." He nodded at the struggling steer, his words jarring with each blow of the axe. "Yet he done puts his head through the fence happy as a flea. Takes some beatin' huh?"
Sam had no breath for words but Pike continued undeterred. "HBetcha we could show them folks you worked with in Silver Creek a thing or two, eh boy? On how to run a cattle ranch. Betcha learned more up here in this month than you did in the three years you were down there. Eh?" He leaned closer to Sam, his face alight as he waited for Sam's affirmative. "Eh?"
"Near…nearly," Sam gasped, referring to the fence.
With one final massive blow, the axe-head wobbled as it finally split the fence rail. Sam kicked at the steer's rump to encourage it up and watched it skitter back to the herd, still bellowing its woes.
"You reckon you could slaughter beef?"
"If…if I have to."
The old man nodded as if satisfied with the answer. "Make some people weep. So pretty."
Sam rubbed his hand over his face. Like so many conversations in his life, this one made no sense at all. Why was the old man leaping from subject to subject like a demented grasshopper? And what was pretty? The back end of the rapidly retreating steer or a slaughtered cow?
"The view," Josh Pike explained although Sam hadn't voiced his question. The old man nodded at the distant range where the peaks were shining pink like his bald pate. "And you know little guys like us can."
Sam raised his eyes to the gun-metal grey sky above them. Can what? Sam was the first to admit that even on a good day his own mind was at best in total disarray but it wasn't in the chaos Josh Pike's evidently was.
"Cry. Cry at the view." Josh spoke as if explaining to a first grader. "Little guys get away with it. Betcha bawled when you left your family in Silver Creek. Eh?"
Bawled? Cry? Sam stared at the farm owner in disbelief. Sure he'd been sorry to leave -- Silver Creek held all he loved. But cry? Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. When did he last cry? He wracked his brains.
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Saturday, September 17, 2011
Introducing Ann Tracy Marr
Our blog tour continues with my guest this week Ann Tracy Marr. She writes about one of my absolute favorites -- Merlin! But with a very unique twist. Come and learn a bit more about my friend.
A longtime fan of Regency romance novels, Ann Tracy Marr spends her time dreaming of the perfect world--England's Regency era interwoven with the best of King Arthur's Camelot and Merlin's magic. Ann is a wife, mother, and computer consultant, fixing the stubborn beasts and teaching people how to tame them. Her background includes a college major in English and secretarial work, which she thankfully escaped.
To His Mistress, the third novel in Marr’s Banshee series, will appear in paperback October 25th.
Ann and I talked recently and she greeted me with -- Welcome to another week of kids back in school. Hip hip hooray for freedom. Kick back and relax; the grocery store can wait. You have earned a day of peace and quiet.
I am Ann Tracy Marr, writer of a paranormal Regency romance series, and guest blogger for Regan Taylor today. I hope Regan is taking a break, but I bet she has her fingers tied to the keyboard. Regan has tremendous drive and the talent to back her up… she is a writer to keep track of. This week she is writing Sharon Poppen's blog: http://poppensthoughtsonwritingandstuff.blogspot.com/
The kids will come home eventually, so let’s get down to business. Regan asked me to answer a question: You have the chance to go back in time and meet one person. Who do you go to meet and what do you ask him or her about your latest work in progress?
One person? Only one? Gee, let me think. I could track down Jesus, check if his beard is the way artists portray it, and ask… No, not Jesus. I don’t have the courage to ask him about a Regency romance. If I had written The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, I could ask about life, the universe and everything, but the only thing I can ask Jesus is if I deserve to be on the New York Times Bestseller list. He probably wouldn’t answer.
So let’s go with the obvious. Picking any one person to consult about my Regency WIP, I would find Jane Austen and ask her if my plots ring true in Regency reality. Did I make any mistakes? If anyone knows about the Regency, it’s Jane Austen. She wrote Pride and Prejudice; she wore those fantastic long dresses and ate syllabub.
Unfortunately, I have a nagging suspicion that Jane would object vociferously to the paranormal aspect of my Regency romances. You see, in my Regencies, King Arthur is history. Arthur lived, built Camelot, and argued with Merlin. Then he died, Merlin disappeared, and life kept on living. Eventually, life got to the Regency era and while it’s mostly the way Jane Austen lived, there are a few differences in my books.
First, I have a lot more knights roaming around London; they have to sit at the Round Table and do all the things Parliament did for Jane Austen’s Britain because the Round Table rules the Isles. Then again, Jane might not care about knights or the government. She didn’t have anything to do with all those dukes and earls that populate most Regency romances. She mingled with plain Misters and Misses.
Do you suppose Jane would object to men saying “Bloody crystal cave” when they get mad, instead of “Bloody hell”? Because in my paranormal Regency world, people would rather swear to Arthur than to God. For some reason, that is the most obvious manifestation of a change in history. Thinking about it, it would be a waste of a question. Jane would object to any kind of swearing.
I know Jane would approve of Sarah Frampton, the heroine of my next book, Keeper of the Grail. Sarah and Jane have quite a bit in common. Neither is a raving beauty and both do what needs doing to keep their families on an even keel. Of course, Jane’s family is a lot more stable than Sarah’s. Jane’s father isn’t an opium user, her sister isn’t a spoiled brat, and her brother didn’t steal the family’s valuable Fra Angelico painting. And proper Regency Jane would leave finding the painting to the menfolk, rather than looking for it herself, as Sarah does.
Jane would like my hero, Sir Sloane Johnstone, knight or no knight. I can’t imagine anyone disliking Sloane. He’s that kind of guy. And underneath the easy-to-get-along-with exterior, Sloane hides a swashbuckling streak that would give any woman a thrill, Jane included.
You know what? If I could ask Jane Austen a question, I wouldn’t ask her about my WIP. What I really want to know is:
Is it true that people kept a chamber pot in the dining room? Did anyone use it during dinner? Why?
Jane would slam the door in my face.
~~~
Ann Tracy Marr writes award-winning paranormal Regency romances. Her books include: Thwarting Magic, Round Table Magician, and To His Mistress. Her latest, Keeper of the Grail, is in the works. A computer consultant in the Midwest, Marr lives with her husband, two cats, and plots that bounce off the wall.
Visit her at www.anntracymarr.com
Buy her books at http://www.awe-struck.net/authors/ann_tracy_marr.html
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