JET-Fueled Fiction - Interviews and Rants: vampires

Showing posts with label vampires. Show all posts

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Retribution Cover Reveal!

Immortality is never guaranteed...

As much as she dreams of a simpler existence, blood and violence are Mira’s way of life. Former gladiator turned freedom fighter; she’s carved a trail from New Haven to Caldera Grove and back, freeing her people, the vampires, from enslavement by the humans.

But with victory almost within reach, a new and powerful enemy emerges. One who’ll be satisfied with nothing less than complete subjugation—or destruction—of all supernatural beings.

With a secret army of his own, he’s more than prepared for any resistance Mira and her patchy rebel forces can offer, and demands their immediate surrender.
Never one to back away from a fight, Mira believes she’s ready for anything. But with the battle lines drawn she will be forced to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Kill or be killed.

Kindle

Crouching low, Mira pulled the sword up over her head, and quickly swiped down in a sharp arc. Instantly at one with her weapon, she began the training dance, moving fluidly forward in a deadly ballet with her invisible opponent. Spinning and twirling while slashing the air with her blade she hardly noticed the other presence in the room. It was only when her sword met with resistance and the loud clang of metal on metal, brought her back to reality that she saw who was there.
“Careful, princess, might take someone’s head off,” Justine smirked. Her own twin blades at the ready, she stepped back and fell into a fighting stance.
Last time Mira had come up against Justine, she’d been unskilled, weak, and defenseless. She was none of those things now.
“Are we doing this?” She smirked, happy to have an opponent worthy of sparring with.
“You made the challenge. So, bring it.”
That she had. Back in the council chamber. And though her anger had cooled since then, she was ready and willing to prove herself. Mira rotated the sword in her hand a few times to loosen up her wrist and without warning brought the blade up hard at Justine.
Twin daggers ready, Justine met the incoming sword with both her blades, crossing them as she pulled back quickly. “Oh you are aiming to kill, aren’t you? What’s got you all riled up?”
“You know very well.” Mira spun on her heel and used the momentum to slash at Justine as she came around. “The futility of our situation.”
“Oh yeah, we’re fucked.” Tip of the sword barely missing Justine’s face, she deflected with the dagger in her right hand. “But you didn’t have to take a human’s side.”
“It’s not taking sides to recognize reason.”
“Humans are never reasonable.”
“I’m going to choose to ignore that.”
“You’re ignoring a lot these days.” It was Justine’s turn to advance, taking advantage of Mira’s wide swings she closed in and jammed her blade in Mira’s side. “Don’t forget what they did to us.”
Hissing in pain, Mira brought the pommel of her sword down against Justine’s head and shoved her back.
The blade hurt just as much going out as it had going in. Mira clutched her wounded side as she eyed Justine licking the blood from her dagger and reset into a fighting stance.
“I have not forgotten the bad or the good.” Mira lunged forward. The tip of her blade made contact, but Justine did not cry out in pain. She leaned away and deflected the blade with her daggers. It might not have gone deep, but Mira saw blood. She smiled at her small accomplishment.
“It’s only a scratch.” Justine huffed, looking at the wound already beginning to heal. “Don’t get cocky.”
“You want more?” Mira taunted.
“Can you do more? Where is this great warrior everyone talks about?”
It shouldn’t have bothered her, but Mira had her reputation for a reason, and hearing those words compounded the rage boiling inside her. She attacked with a fury reserved normally for those who were going to die. Had she been fighting anyone but Justine, they might have. Speed of lightning, Mira moved with deadly precision bringing the sword down and around Justine’s head as if she meant to take it off. Only fast reflexes and sixty years of gladiator battles had given Justine the skills to avoid decapitation.
“You know what your problem is?” Justine taunted, twisting her blades around in her hands and bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Mira reset, watching her opponent, anticipating the attack that would come. “Enlighten me?”
Justine ducked low and swiped at Mira’s stomach. The blade failed to meet its mark by scant inches. “You’re a great big baby.”
“Funny.”
Justine deflected Mira’s responding swipe of the sword and reset again for her next attack. “It wasn’t a joke.”
“Did you come here just to piss me off?”
“I came to see if it was worth sticking around.”
“What?”
“You know, when I saw you, the great savior, as I entered New Haven, I was proud. I remembered that weak, pathetic little girl running away from mommy and daddy. She never should have survived.”
“But I did.”
“Yes… but how? Because this person I see here, she’s not a survivor. She’s still that weak little girl.”
“I’ll show you weak.” She backed Justine almost to the edge of the arena with a fury of wild swings.
“Oh, so you do have some balls.” Having hit the far wall, Justine ducked and pivoted around Mira’s blade coming out behind her and sliding her knife around to Mira’s neck. She whispered in her ear. “C’mon then, warrior. Fight back like you mean it.”
Justine wasn’t looking for a sparring match, it seemed all she cared to do this evening was piss Mira off, and she’d done just that. “I’m tired. We’re done here.”
Justine laughed. “Tired? Tired? You’re tired? For sixty years I’ve done one thing. The one thing I told you to do. You’re tired. Then go off and die, because you don’t deserve to survive.”
“I did not earn my reputation for nothing.”
“But you’re still not the true warrior I’d expected.”
Mira took in a deep breath, feeling the edge of the blade against her throat. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“How can you be so pathetic?” Justine released Mira with a shove.
“Excuse me?”
“You have it all, princess. You’re the savior. You’ve got adoring fans, freedom, and the love of a very hot wolfman, and still you’re moping about. Oh poor you.”
“You call worrying over the survival of the people I just freed, moping?”
“Yeah, because your pissing time away in meetings instead of just fixing the problem. You know as well as I do that the only way to kill a beast is to cut off the head.”
“It’s not as simple as that. Or were you not paying attention in the meeting?”
“Yeah. I heard a lot of whining and crying over people who might die. Just fucking do something.”
“I can’t risk the lives of innocents.”
“You’re already doing it by doing nothing. Get out there and fix it.”
Justine, as usual had hit the root of the problem. But it was precisely that which had them all stalled in committee.”
“You’ve got problems. We’ve all got problems. Everyone wants to live their happy little life, but right now, it’s not an option. Suck it up, princess. Do something about it.”
“I am doing something.” What more did she expect? Mira had said her peace in the meetings and had been overshadowed by Lucian and Stryker’s plan. All she could do was hold tight.
“No, you’re wasting time waiting for others to do things. Story of your life. You want to be this independent person, in control, and all the while, you’re letting others decide what happens in your life. I’ll bet you haven’t even taken that wolf of yours to bed. You’re waiting until he forces you past your extremely obvious intimacy issues.”
“That’s none of your concern.” She was dangerously close to crossing the line. Mira tightened her grip on the sword.
“Or how about the human who’s pining away for you.”
“Again, none of your concern,” Mira’s voice became dangerously quiet. She was moments from losing her patience.
“We’ll if you won’t take him, I will.”
“Have the human.” That will be the day!
“And the wolf too. I’d give him more than enough reason to leave your crybaby ass behind.”
“You go too far.”
Justine threw the dagger in her left hand, burring it deep into Mira’s chest. “So teach me a lesson, great warrior.”
Mira fell to her knees with a groan. Pawing at her chest to remove the blade.
“How ever did you survive?” Justine spat at Mira. “Maybe I’ll just take that wolfman as my prize for killing you.”

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Imagination...

The imagination is an unlimited source of entertainment, and authors, screenwriters, artists of all types, tap into this sacred resource to provide the best in story telling.

I've read a few books since Christmas that I would qualify as engaging stories. At least they kept me occupied and engaged, which with the characters in my head constantly clamoring for attention, is a hard thing to achieve these days.

The Chronicles of the Uprising by K.A. Salidas is a series that kept me entertained from the beginning and I now have blasted my way through them all. I really enjoyed this one, especially since it combines vampires and gladiators and Mira - the main character - is wonderfully complex and capable. Ms. Salidas did a fantastic job bringing us into the dystopian world of the future. If you haven't picked up this series, and you like unique vampire lore, this is a must read.

I was a little hesitant to pick up Monster by Carmen Caine based on the reviews, but it was a free book and I still hadn't formulated the next scene in my upcoming novel Magick, so I downloaded this. Again, it's a vampire type theme and while I could see some of the inconsistencies some of the reviewer's mentioned, overall, it's an intriguing story line. I found the tension between Lucien and Cassidy compelling. The hot/cold of it was aggravating, but it kept me reading and silently wishing the two would let their guard down and just give in.

Both these stories are great examples of exceptional storytelling. They both have the ability to draw the reader into their worlds to the point we have to keep reading to find out what happens next.

A non-paranormal series that carries this same sense of urgency and dynamics between main characters is The Charlotte Hayes series by S.S. Lange. I may be biased on this for a couple reasons, the first is that I chose to publish this intense series - it has a solid story line with a kick ass female lead, and as a publisher, I couldn't pass on the story. The second reason was why I got to read the first draft of that first book. This wasn't a submission that came through our publishing house. You see, Ms. Lange is family and she asked me for feedback on her first foray into writing fiction. The last thing she expected when she sent me her rough draft was an offer of a publishing contract, but it was THAT good and after a conversation about her publishing options (i.e. going traditional, publishing with a small press, or self publishing), she made the choice to sign on with Novel Concept Publishing. If you like FBI suspense thrillers, then pick up this series, you won't be disappointed.

As a reader, I love to get sucked into a story and, as a writer, I have a high respect for authors that can do this without fail and the examples above certainly qualify.

As far as what I have on tap this year - well, my releases include Magick, a story about a ghost gone bad, and Angel Blood - the next book in the Ryan Chronicles series.

Until next time,
Ciao.
JET

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Cover Reveal for the Night Hawk Trilogy!

Trinity Rising is coming out later this week, and considering it is the third book in the Night Hawk Series, I will also be releasing the trilogy by December 15th, as well. The Night Hawk Trilogy will be out in both e-book and paperback!

The single titles all have a depiction of Naomi, so with the trilogy, I did something a bit different....I chose to highlight Damian...

NIGHT HAWK (Book 1):

Sentenced to death at the hands of a demon, Naomi Hawk slips and falls eighty stories from a precarious ledge, resigning herself to the inevitable impact. Before she can escape her demons in eternal slumber, something sinister plucks her from the plummet, stealing her out of the night to sacrifice her forever to the shadows. Now, Naomi thirsts for justice… and revenge.

TIGRESS (Book 2):

Naomi's immortality is nullified, making her vulnerable to the ones who consider her their conquest. If she wasn't already walking over the hot coals of misfortune she would be obsessed with the next ambush. The shadow vaccine is hell in a syringe, the antidote turning Naomi’s blood into a lethal elixir, rendering her toxic to all vampires, including Damian.

TRINITY RISING (Book 3):

Damian’s mortal world begins to shine when fatherhood hits his horizon, but plans for a bright future disintegrate when Lucifer comes to claim their Trinity child, playing dirty by framing Damian for murder. Now, Damian and Naomi are on the run from both Lucifer and the law. One wrong step and they could trigger Armageddon, or worse, the hope for our future could fall into Lucifer's greedy grip.

Cover created by Cora Graphics.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Sample Sunday - Night Hawk Excerpt

Sample Sunday - Night Hawk Excerpt:

“You’re more than welcome to join me,” I said when she showed no signs of moving.

Her mouth opened and she glanced back toward the living room. “When?”

“Right now,” I said, knowing she wasn’t referring to my offer.

She rolled her eyes. “When did you paint that mural?”

“A long time ago,” I said. “Now, are you going to join me or not?” This time I turned toward her, giving her the full view and I smiled at the way her gaze bounced, her eyes widening a fraction before inching their way back up my chest to my face. Her cheeks bloomed and I cocked an eyebrow at her.

She pressed her lips together and slammed the door, marching out of the room in a huff.

I chuckled and ran the soap over my chest, running my fingers over what was left of the welt on my skin. The vampiric healing powers still amazed me enough that I missed the shift in the air around me.

Nails scraped my back and I jumped, swinging my head in the direction of the disturbance. Her wide eyes met mine and I turned, drinking her in from head to toe. Exquisite was the only word that popped into mind and when her fingers touched my chest I reached, covering her hand and holding it against my skin.

“What are you doing?” I whispered because having her undressed and this close put me at a major disadvantage.

“I’m saying thank you,” she said and her hands moved lower.

Catching her wrists, I warned, “Naomi, don’t start something you can’t finish.” My body responded anyway and she closed the distance. Her lips grazed my chest and I closed my eyes, releasing her and surrendering to her exploration.

When her tongue trailed lower, I recalled the memories of her ex and my eyes snapped open. As much as the thought of her taking me in her mouth thrilled me, I didn’t want to be that memory and I grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her up to face me. She wasn’t one of the common harlots from my past that I let drop to their knees before me.

No, Naomi was different and I wanted more.

“You do not have to do this just because you aren’t ready for anything more.”

Her dark eyes met mine and I traced the frame of her face with my fingertips, studying every curve. Leaning down, I took her lower lip in my mouth, sucking gently before shifting and delivering a kiss that started as tender and rich as her blood, but it soon escalated into an all-consuming heat and I could envision living in this bliss for the rest of eternity.

I had lied to her today.

Fear wasn’t the only deep emotion I had encountered since I plucked her out of the sky, this need to connect, to love again overwhelmed me. The irony of her name and the form she turned into added to the feel that fate had prepared this feast just for me.

Coming April 2013!

Thursday, December 27, 2012

A Sneak Peek at NIGHT HAWK

Night Hawk - Coming in 2013!

Selling your soul has never been so charming and Mark throws in a little something to sweeten the pot, his girlfriend Naomi.

Sentenced to death at the hands of a demon, Naomi Hawk has a firsthand lesson in despair and betrayal in Mark’s deal for fame with all the trimmings. Deep in the clutches of the underground brotherhood, Naomi's light is coveted for the Master's gain.

When she slips and falls eighty stories from a precarious ledge, Naomi resigns herself to the inevitable impact and death by shattered bones. Before she can escape her demons in eternal slumber, something sinister plucks her from the plummet, stealing her out of the night to sacrifice her forever to the shadows.

Imprisoned in bottomless darkness, Naomi thirsts for justice…and revenge.

Chapter One - Naomi

I still remember the first night.

The full moon illuminated the landscape and I could see for miles from my perch. The eighty-floor drop left me dizzy and I stepped farther back into the wall. My heart thundered in my chest and the adrenaline warmed my skin against the frigid air.

“What are you waiting for?”

His growl yanked my gaze from the busy city street below to his dark and crazed eyes.

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, dry as desert sand and I shook my head. I didn’t want to jump, no matter how horrifying death at his hands promised to be. The fear of dying by terminal velocity was just too great, cementing my feet to that small ledge.

“I can wait.” His evil laugh hung on the air, chilling whatever heat I had left right out of my bones and I clamped my jaw tight against the tears that threatened, leaving my vision warbled.

I slid farther away from the open window and the glistening blade in his hand. He ran it slowly along the brick, creating a screaming sound that made my teeth ache.

Either way, I was screwed. A flare of anger shot through the fear, adding to the tremor in my skin. Damn you Mark, why did you turn me over to these vultures?

Demon boy looked up at me and chuckled like he heard my silent question. His shaded gaze flashed red before it sank back to the sharp blade. “It was the only way my boss would honor his deal,” he muttered and glanced back at her. “His soul and your life and your boyfriend would have all the fame and fortune he could ever envision.”

“But why me?”

“Your life force is quite a delicacy.” The knife scraped against the brick again. “My boss has waited for centuries to taste the beating heart of a child of the light.”

“I don’t believe you. Mark would never sell me out.” I said, my voice shook with disbelief and I took another step away, but a gale caught me off guard and I teetered on the edge trying to grasp at the brick wall, but my hands were too cold to gain the purchase necessary to catch my balance. All it took was another wind gust and I fell, the scream barreling out of my mouth at the sudden weightless freefall.

I had a moment of satisfaction when the demon’s expression fell into fear tinted shock at losing what his master coveted.

Gravity pulled and my hair whipped across my face, blinding me to anything but streaks of light. I thought my heart would catapult out of my chest it beat so hard and I drew in a breath, waiting for the impact that would turn out the lights for good.

Pain bit around my waist and I was yanked from the descent by a strong grasp. A sharp cry ripped from my throat, and the sound of beating wings filled my world. Before I could focus on what had saved me from certain death, I was tumbling through space again, this time, the hard asphalt of a nearby roof bit into my skin and I rolled away.

When I got my bearings, I brushed the hair from my face in time to see a human form at the edge of the roof. A man in a dark overcoat stepped from the shadows, his intense glare fell on me and he licked his lips, revealing a sharp set of canines.

“Who are you?” I whispered and climbed to my feet. My legs shook under my weight, barely able to hold me up.

He smiled and stepped into the light.

“I’ve been watching you for a while.”

The mere thought of a fiend like him studying me from afar gave me the creeps. The movies always made it quite romantic to be the object of a vampire’s affection, but in reality all they wanted was an entertaining meal.

“Why?” I asked fumbling for the knife clasped to my belt. When my hand came up empty, he laughed, dangling the weapon from his fingers.

“You really think your little daggers will stop me?” He tossed the knife to the edge of the rooftop and stepped toward me.

Being a demon’s meal was bad, but being this bastard’s chew toy was worse, I would rather have been splattered on the pavement. I took another shaking step backwards, too aware of my near frozen condition.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, trying to stall him until I could maneuver close enough to dive for my weapons.

He stared me down with hard black eyes. Eyes no more distinct than the shadow he stepped out of.

“Why?” he replied. “Because I swore I’d destroy anything that demon bastard wants and you are at the top of that list. I’m sure he’s gutting his little lackey right now for losing you and he’ll be even more pissed when he finds out I’m the one that stole your life.”

The bitterness in his voice nearly quelled the fight in me, but when he stepped closer, my survival instinct flared and I ducked under his reach, swinging my fist, hoping to get a shot in, but my knuckles only grazed his hard cheek.

His vice-like grip clamped on my throat, pulling me close. The burn of his bite seized my muscles, his poison saturating my entire form with exquisite pain. Each beat of my heart hurt, and I screamed. He pulled away from my neck and stared into my eyes.

“My god, you are delicious,” he whispered, his voice laced with rough desire and before I could pull another breath in, his teeth ripped at my throat again.

My fading gaze landed on the arch of his neck and my scream morphed into a growl. I sank my dull human teeth through his skin and was rewarded with a gasp and the gush of black blood filling my mouth. He pressed me closer, still drinking from my throat and pressing my mouth to his. I tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he clamped down hard enough so I had no choice but to ingest his blood.

A wave of dizziness hit and he loosened his grip, stepping away from me. I crumpled to the ground, heaving the blood from my stomach, but I knew it was too late. I had already swallowed too much of the vile poison and no matter how much I threw up, I couldn’t stop the infection.

“I bet you never saw that coming,” I whispered and sent a glare in his direction.

He no longer held that smug look, instead his handsome face transformed into a mask of horror and his hand clamped his neck, the blood flowing freely over his fingertips.

As the infection spread, it crystallized my cells into a hard shell and transformed my senses into acute hunting weapons. The pain that had gripped me moments ago faded and I stood with a ravenous need. I ran my tongue over my teeth and winced at the cutting edges that would puncture steel if I so desired.

The human soul inside me cried at the injustice. I should be dead, but instead, I was now one of the undead all because the bastard before me decided to pluck the demon’s meal out of the sky.

I stepped toward him with a growl and his eyes widened, reflecting a blue as crisp as the fall sky and I stopped.

“You bit me,” he whispered, his voice unsteady and shaking.

“Did you think I’d just let you drain me dry without a fight?”

His hand dropped from his throat and he stared at the wet blood covering it before raising his gaze to me. “No one has ever bit me before,” he said.

I crossed my arms and studied him. “Sucks, doesn’t it,” I said. I couldn’t help it, the disbelief in his face made me want to laugh but I kept a check on my chuckle.

He blinked and then the smile that spread over his lips sent a shiver through me. Laughter followed, rich and full and as hypnotizing as his smile.

“Yes. It does,” he finally said and wiped at his neck again. The flow of blood had finally stopped and he glanced at me.

“You aren’t such a badass after all,” I said.

The menacing shadow was gone, replaced by a man barely out of his teens. I studied him, taking note of the uncomfortable shift along with his worried scan of the night around us. It took a minute to understand the hesitation in his gaze.

He glanced back at me, and I knew. This kid was scared shitless, but I wasn’t sure if it was me or something else.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re in trouble,” I said.

He laughed and caught my gaze, moving faster than I could blink and I found myself pressed to the wall by his incredibly hard body. His intense stare left me breathless, but this time, it wasn’t food he hungered for and he leaned in to kiss me.

I swept his feet out from under him and he landed on his back with a thud, surprise plastered across his face.

“Not going to happen.” I pointed at him. “You may have turned me into a monster, but that doesn’t give you the right to screw me any time you please.” I didn’t want to rely on any man, never mind a blood crazed vamp, no matter how good looking he was.

I swallowed, suddenly thirsty and my gaze dropped to the dried blood on his collar. I knew soon enough the thirst would overwhelm me but in that moment I swore I’d never become a shadow dwelling killer.

He climbed to his feet, brushing the roof grit from his jacket. “You’re mine now,” he said, trying to exude authority.

I laughed and crossed to the knives, picking them up and hesitating. The silver glinted in the moonlight and I sighed, running a fingertip down the length. The metal created a warm glow on my skin unlike anything I had seen before, but it didn’t penetrate and draw blood like it should have.

I understood his mocking of my weapons now and glanced over my shoulder at him. “No one owns me.” I sheathed both blades and turned toward him, ready for battle.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Manic Monday with Piper Maitland...

Welcome to another Manic Monday. I’ve got Piper Maitland on tap today talking about her writing journey. Piper lives on a Tennessee farm with her family. She is the author of the vampire thriller, Acquainted With the Night (Berkley/November 2011). She is currently working on the sequel, A Requiem for Daylight. Piper has also written novels under the name Michael Lee West.

Without further adieu – here’s Piper…

When I was a tiny girl, I watched Dracula movies on the Late, Late Show, and I would get so frightened, I’d scream for my father to walk me back to my room. For years, until I discovered boys and lost my fear of the undead, I slept with a crucifix around my neck and garlic under my pillow.

I didn’t begin writing seriously until I was a junior in nursing school. I cobbled together horror stories in an airless closet under the staircase and pinned my rejection slips on the wall. We're talking floor-to-ceiling wallpaper here. Some of the slips had tiny indentions in the paper, as if the editor had stabbed them over and over with a sharp pencil, or maybe a butcher knife.

The free wallpaper continued for a decade. My family begged me to give up this crazy dream and go make cornbread. I made the cornbread, but kept writing, Lord knows why. I just like words and making up stuff. There's no telling how much weight I gained from stress eating--and corn bread was a favorite. It still is.

Despite setbacks and slammed doors, I kept writing. One Mother's Day, my eldest son wrote me a letter: To my Mom. I've never seen anybody work harder than you and get nowhere. But I love ya.

I didn't have a PhD in literature. I didn't know any writers. If I saw an infinitive, I gleefully split it. I thought a plot had something to do with gardening, as in a "plot" of land. But I kept going. I got up at dawn to write so my avocation wouldn't interfere with family life, and I stayed up late. I joined a writing group. The members were spread out all over the country, and we communicated via snail mail.

I continued to paper my walls with rejection slips. I wasn't published, but I was still a writer. It's easy to spot one. We have ink stains on our hands and clothes; and we can't go two seconds without thinking, "What if....?"

A long time ago, someone advised me to be a "bit like a weed." I embraced that advice. In 1988, I submitted a short story to a very fine literary journal. The editor in chief wrote me a two page rejection letter. It basically said, Dear Horrible Writer, You suck. Stop sending us stories or we shall cry. Etc, etc.

Somehow I persevered. My first novel was published in 1990. I was 38 years old. Like my mama says, I was the opposite of an overnight sensation. Now I'm 58. I no longer work in a closet, but I don't have an office. I roam around the house with my laptop. If the weather isn't too grim, I will sit outside with a legal pad.

After years of writing southern fried novels, I got the idea to write about vampires during the winter of 2008, while I drove to the grocery with my son. He’s a biochemist, and we began playing the “what if?” game. What if vampires weren’t allergic to garlic? What if they had a biological basis for their blood cravings?

I knew it would be a risk. But I’d started out writing horror fiction, and I was longing to write something different. So what if it wasn’t published? That’s not the point. The point is to have a rollicking good time while you’re writing. A writer writes because we love words and because we’ve a burning desire to put those words onto the page.

The character of Caroline Clifford took shape while I shopped in the Publix bakery, and by the time I’d made it to the check-out line, I was eager to get home and start writing.

I pulled from my science background to try and create an unusual strain of vampirism and to explore the physiology behind it. My fact checkers were "in house"--my husband, a physician, and my younger son, a biochemist. Jude Barrett, a main character in the novel, is a biochemist. I showed it to my agent, some writing friends, and my mother. My agent believed in the manuscript from the beginning. Friends were divided. My mother freaked. "Oh no," she cried. "Go back to writing unplotted Southern fiction."

I decided I loved tying my heroines to the train tracks. The experience of writing a paranormal novel infused a new joy in the writing process. But it wasn’t easy. I had a lot to learn about plotting and pacing. As a self-taught writer and die-hard pantster, I had to roll up my sleeves and get to work.

Since I am overly fond of writing about food (and I love feeding my characters), I had to learn how to trim the fat and get the action moving. I plunged into workshops and writing classes. I’m still taking classes. I just finished a year-long mentorship with author Lori Wilde, and I’ve taken a steampunk workshop with author Theresa Meyers. The learning has just begun, but I’m having a blast.

Acquainted With the Night was published this November by Berkley. To be sure, I will be celebrating with cornbread.

You can find out more about Piper and her books at http://www.pipermaitland.com/

Thanks for swinging in today. Don’t forget to swing in on Friday when I’m dishing it up with Jonathan DeCoteau.

Until then,
Ciao
JET

Friday, June 17, 2011

Dishing it up with Morgan Gallagher

Hi folks, today we’re dishing it up with Changeling author, Morgan Gallagher! Morgan is in her late 40s, and should know better about spending her writing life with vampires. However, she has no choice, as they refuse to go away and leave her alone. She lives in the Scottish Borders, with her husband and their six-year-old son. A full time career for her husband who is severely disabled, Morgan also works as a volunteer for several charities and is passionate about the rights of babies, children and mothers. She has campaigned vigorously against child detention during immigration procedures. She and her husband home educate their son and attempt to keep a never-ending stream of cats under control. The North Sea pounds their fishing village every winter, and every major storm, the entire family are to be found in the car parked on the headland admiring the view. Apart from the cats, that is, who are at home dreaming of summer.

JET: Can you tell us about Changeling?

Morgan: Changeling is a dark and brutal tale. Almost literary in its detailed depiction of day to day lives and living. It’s about a young woman who goes out one night for a night out with her office, and disappears. She’s been taken by a vampire. A very old, very controlling and extremely psychotic vampire. He is not a dark prince, and he is not a hero. He’s a complex psychological mess, and he slowly tries to dismantle his plaything. His plaything, Joanne, is made of sterner stuff than he thinks. Slowly, they change each other. Joanne, the girl, isn’t aware he’s a vampire for a long time, the reader is. In that, there is a great deal of horror. The book is about a battle of wills, and who wins.

JET: What drew you to writing about the paranormal?

Morgan: It’s what I’m best at. I’ve tried to be other things. I’d rather be a science fiction writer. Failing that, fantasy. I’m terrible at science fiction, truly dire. I’m okay at fantasy. In the dark, however, my gift flourishes. I’ve always loved horror. I’m an avid reader. The darkness always mixed well with my background, being Scottish, being brought up with lots of legends of dark powers and lost souls being tricked to their death... it’s natural to me I guess. It’s just what comes out best, when I write. We don’t get to choose what we’re good at!  And I’ve always loved vampires….

JET: What’s been your most challenging hurdle on the road to publication?

Morgan: Dealing with how to portray extreme violence, male to female, without it being either gratuitous, or fetishised. It’s hard stuff to write, and it’s incredibly difficult to read. A couple of beta readers and a reviewer couldn’t hack it. It’s been hard to expose myself by being both so honest and open, and by allowing the story to be what it needs to be.

JET: What was your favorite moment in the journey?

Morgan: My first review. I was terrified, and the author who did it, Betty Carlton, hit it in one. She understood the book, and why it was the shape it was, and how it worked. That was pretty awesome. A close second is the private email I got the week of publication, from a reader who stated the book had helped her cope with her own past, and was healing for her. Reader feedback has been just the best thing. When you spend so long on a book, you somehow think it’s never gonna get out, never gonna get read. And then people you don’t know, have never met, are buying it and thanking you. That’s just wonderful.

JET: Which authors had the most influence over you growing up?

Morgan: It’s a long list! Harlan Ellison, Anne McCaffrey, Stephen King, John Wyndham, James White, Tanith Lee, Minette Walters, Arthur C Clarke, James Herbert, LM Montgomery, The Brontes, Jane Austen, I could go on for some time....

JET: When did you know you wanted to take the plunge into the writing world?

Morgan: I’ve always known. I was given a typewriter for my fifth birthday. A real one: not a toy. I read the way I breathed; without thought of it. It was the same for writing. I started my fist novel at 12. A spy novel!

JET: What’s the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of book research? Most interesting fact you uncovered?

Morgan: Standing around in the North Sea winds in winter, being hit by a sideways wave of water in freezing temperatures, photographing gravestones. Thankfully, it was so bitter cold, and so wet, no one else was around to witness the madness. Most interesting fact? My, you do ask interesting questions. I genuinely don’t think I can answer that, given that my head is packed full with nonsense about so many things. Oh, I know. What happened to the Cemetery of the Innocents in Paris in May 1780. That proved that truth is waaay stranger than fiction. It’s a tiny footnote in the second book, but boy, is it just amazing. Why yes, I am a tease, what made you ask?

JET: Of all the novels and stories you’ve written - which one is your favorite? Why?

Morgan: Changeling. Always will be. It’s my darling. My child. I have other children, but Changeling is the book where I speak the clearest about things that touch me.

JET: Any advice for the novices out there?

Morgan: Write, write write. It’s the only way. It may take ten years to find your voice, it may take twenty. But the only way you have of finding yourself in the words, is to keep churning them out. Write, write, write. That, and find a good editor. Always.

JET: All right - now that I’ve hammered you with the big questions, let’s tackle my favorite (and geeky) quick ten. . . starting with: Paper or Plastic?

Morgan: Paper.

JET: Steak or Tofu?

Morgan: Steak

JET: Beach or Mountains?

Morgan: Beach, but not in the Summer. I like my beaches wild and windy and crashing. You won’t find me on a towel under the sun.

JET: Country or Rock-n-Roll?

Morgan: Country

JET: Paper or Digital?

Morgan: Paper.

JET: Silent Film Classics or Cheesy B Rated Horror?

Morgan: Both. I’m a film teacher.

JET: Coffee or Tea?

Morgan: Tea

JET: Salty or Sweet?

Morgan: Salty

JET: Top 10 best seller or Unknown Back Shelf Find?

Morgan: Unknown Back Shelf Find

JET: 2012 Mayan Prophecy Believer or Ain’t Gonna Happen?

Morgan: Puhleese. *rolls eyes*

JET: Thank you for indulging me. Before we wrap this up, can you tell us what you're working on now? What's next?

Morgan: I should be working on the sequel to Changeling, Lucifer’s Stepdaughter. But when Changeling went out, I found room in my brain for something else. So I’m working on a short horror novel named Bedlam Maternity, set in the East End of London in the present day. I’ll put it out in about 4 months, hopefully, and them get back to Lucifer’s Stepdaughter.

Thank you so much for taking the time to chat on my blog. Folks, you can find out more about Morgan Gallagher and her work at the following places:

Buy Changeling: Amazon UK Amazon USA Smashwords

Author Pages: Ethics Trading Amazon UK Amazon USA

Contact Author: Novel Blog Twitter: @DreyfussTrilogy FaceBook

Join me on Monday when Deborah Riley-Magnus shares her Manic Monday with us.

Until then,

Ciao

JET

Friday, December 17, 2010

Dishing it up with Elizabeth Loraine

Today I have the pleasure of having Elizabeth Loraine, author of the Royal Blood Chronicles on my blog.

JET: Can you tell us a little about your latest book?

Elizabeth: Book Three The Dark Prince follows Katrina and the Five to the New World on their continuing quest to protect the peaceful races of the world including humans. It’s another wild ride as they travel across the continent to choose locations for new vampire clans in this new land. They encounter new allies and enemies along the way and are stalked by an evil presence: The Dark Prince the son of the Queen of the underworlds son who wants Katrina, no matter what the cost.

Cain the Quest is book four in my series Royal Blood Chronicles. Cain is a character that I introduced in book three: The Dark Prince. I just thought he was so interesting that I wanted to know more about him myself. Cain is a vampire of royal blood like the others except he has lived his entire life in the underworld kingdom of Althar. His Father, the Count Marcelle DeCountelay betrayed the templar knights who’s surviving members are still hunting them today. His mother Daniella is also the mother of Damien, Katrina’s love interest in the series. This book follows Cain on his journey of redemption as he tries desperately to redeem himself and join his sister and his half brother to help the Five Protectors. Will he succeed?

JET: What’s been your most challenging hurdle on the road to publication?

Elizabeth: Writing is just the beginning. The hardest part is the marketing and promotion. Getting people to read the books, but I am doing as much as I can because I believe in them and know people will fall in love with Katrina if they will just give her a chance.

JET: What was your favorite moment in the journey?

Elizabeth: Finding out that people do like the series and want to read more. That is great fun.

JET: Which authors had the most influence over you growing up?

Elizabeth: I loved Hans Christian Andersen as a child and later of course Anne Rice. But I loved reading about history and it was a big influence in writing these books.

JET: When did you know you wanted to take the plunge into the writing world?

Elizabeth: After reading so many modern teen books out there and finding that there just wasn’t anything new. I thought I could fill that niche with strong female characters and a new take on the vampire legend.

JET: What’s the craziest thing you’ve done in the name of book research? Most interesting fact you uncovered?

Elizabeth: I was doing research on the templar Knights and found that they some had fled to Scotland to fight with Robert the Bruce of Braveheart fame. Robert the Bruce’s lineage is the royal house of Spencer as in Diana Spencer (Princess Diana) and a relative of Christopher Columbus! You may read more about this in another book!

JET: Of all the novels and stories you’ve written - which one is your favorite? Why?

Elizabeth: Each one is like your children making it hard to choose. I think the one that I am working on at the moment is always my favorite. Katrina of course is close to my heart because it is the first one and she rocks!

JET: Any advice for the novices out there?

Elizabeth: Find your niche and don’t give up. Don’t be afraid to ask for help or advice and don’t take no, or you can’t, for an answer.

JET: : All right - now that I’ve hammered you with the big questions, let’s tackle my favorite (and geeky) quick ten. . . starting with Paper or Plastic?

Elizabeth: Plastic

JET: Steak or Tofu?

Elizabeth: Steak, definitely!

JET: : Beach or Mountains?

Elizabeth: Mountains

JET: : Country or Rock-n-Roll?

Elizabeth: Rock

JET: Classics or Modern?

Elizabeth: Classic

JET: : Silent Film Classics or Cheesy B Rated Horror?

Elizabeth: Cheesy B horror.

JET: Zombies or Demons?

Elizabeth: Demons

JET: Paper or Digital?

Elizabeth: Paper

JET: Salty or Sweet?

Elizabeth: Salty

JET: : Coffee or Tea?

Elizabeth: Coke Zero

JET: Thank you for indulging me. Before we wrap this up, can you tell us what you're working on now? What's next?

Elizabeth: Thanks for asking, Book four Cain the Quest is being edited so I am on to Book Five! Maybe I could come back and talk about that next spring!

I’d love to have you back next spring Elizabeth! Thank you so much for taking the time to chat on my blog. Folks, you can find out more about Elizabeth Loraine and her work on her website: http://royalbloodchronicles.com/. Her books can be found HERE on Amazon.