Interview with T.L. Bodine and Tagestraum!

Today I’m interviewing author T.L. Bodine. First let’s take a look at her latest book: Tagestraum.

Working as a child welfare agent, Adrian has seen a lot of disturbing things. Nathaniel Weaver isn’t the first kid in the city who’s ever gone missing, but his disappearance haunts Adrian in a way he cannot entirely explain. Maybe it’s because the child looks so eerily similar to himself. Maybe it’s the drawing that Nathaniel gave to him the last time they met: a cloaked nightmarish figure that Adrian recognizes from his own dreams.

When Adrian returns once more to the scene of the disappearance, he finds a doorway leading to another world: Tagestraum, a bizarre and often treacherous faerie realm powered by human dreams. The world itself threatens the safety and sanity of any human that crosses into it, and several of its denizens are eager to harvest errant humans for a little raw energy.

Adrian knows that he’s the only person who can find Nathaniel – but to do it, he must battle both dangerous inhabitants and his own worst nightmares, and each night that passes brings Adrian closer to losing himself completely.

**

1.     So much of your writing has a fairy-tale element. What fairy tales captivated you as a child, and now?

When I was maybe six or seven, my grandmother gave me a book of fairytales that were broken out into days — 365 sections, each one meant to be read at bedtime throughout the year.  These were the original Grimm’s stories, and I was completely fascinated by the violence and death in them compared to the Disney movies I’d seen.  The one that really stuck with me was Cinderella, when the step sisters are cutting off parts of their foot to fit in the slipper.  I just remember reading it and thinking, “Wow, they definitely left that part out of the movie.  This is so much cooler!” (I was kind of a weird kid lol)

In college, I read The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter, and it was kind of a transformative experience.  I knew right then that I wanted to revisit some of those stories from my childhood and try seeing them in a new way.

2.     What do you find the biggest differences are between writing fiction and web content?

They’re almost like apples and oranges.  When you’re writing for the web, you’re giving somebody exactly what they want.  Your number one job is figuring exactly what they’re looking for and delivering it to them.  You spend a lot of time researching and creatively reorganizing information into an effective or accessible format, but everything you need already exists — you’re just packaging it differently.   With fiction, you’re creating things as you go, and you have to go slowly enough to figure out what you’re trying to say.  I can write 10k a day easy for my “day job”, but if I get a thousand words out on a novel it’s a very good day.

3.     If one song out there could define your book, what would it be?

Is it cheating to use a poem?  Because I’d totally say “The Stolen Child” by W.B. Yeats.  Some people have done musical arrangements of it, so it totally counts right?

4.     If you met your main character at a bar, how would you interact?

Well first off I’d be pretty concerned because he’s not a drinker.  He watched both of his parents drink entirely too much and ruin a large chunk of his childhood because of it.  He toyed with drinking socially in college and realized he couldn’t control himself around it, so he’s never been back since.

But I’d buy him a Shirley Temple or something — dude’s earned it– and try to get him to open up.   Sure, I have the unfair advantage of knowing him better than he knows me, but I’m sure there’s things he hasn’t told me yet and I’d love to know them.

5.     If you could live in any literary universe, which would it be?

I’d be perfectly content with a Hogwarts acceptance letter 🙂

6.     Are you a plotter or a pantser?

A bit of both.  Writing for me is kind of like driving on the highway at night.  You know pretty much where you’re going and how you’re going to get there, but at any given time all you can see is what’s right in front of you, and sometimes things jump out at you from nowhere.  Only difference is that writing, the unexpected bits are usually good.

7.     How has writing changed your life?

I’ve been making up stories since I can remember, and writing them down since I was about 8, so it’s been a huge part of making me who I am now.  There’s kind of an old cliche about writing as therapy, but I think there’s a lot of truth to it.  Obviously the number one thing you want to do when you write a book is to try and tell a good story.  But underneath that, you’re also working out problems — trying to figure out how the world works, and why, and whether that’s a good thing.  So I think writing can give you a lot of self-awareness in that respect, and it’s something I turn to for comfort in those situations where answers aren’t always easy to find.

8.     What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

Read widely.  Write all the time.  But don’t forget to go outside and live, too.  Every experience you have will enrich your writing, and you owe it to yourself to gather as many of those experiences as you possibly can.  Sitting alone in front of a typewriter is a romantic image, maybe, but it’s not what’s going to make you a better writer.
About the Author
Inline image 1
T.L. Bodine is a fantasy author, web content writer and fly-by-night video game writer.  Most recently, she’s collaborated with Ginger Goat on the anthology “Trust Me,” about dolls who sometimes tell lies, and her work can be seen in the newly released Holdfast gamebook from Black Chicken Studios.  She has three books in print: Tagestraum, Nezumi’s Children, and The Beast in the Bedchamber.

Interview with Louise D Gornall @rock_andor_roll & In Stone

In Stone1600x2400

About The Book

Beau Bailey is suffering from a post-break-up meltdown when she happens across a knife in her local park and takes it home. Less than a week later, the new boy in school has her trapped in an alley; he’s sprouted horns and is going to kill Beau unless she hands over the knife.

Until Eighteenth-century gargoyle, Jack, shows up to save her.

Jack has woken from a century-long slumber to tell Beau that she’s unwittingly been drafted into a power struggle between two immortal races: Demons and Gargoyles. The knife is the only one in existence capable of killing immortals and they’ll tear the world apart to get it back. To draw the warring immortals away from her home, Beau goes with Jack in search of the mind-bending realm known as the Underworld, a place where they’ll hopefully be able to destroy the knife and prevent all hell from breaking loose. That is, provided they can outrun the demons chasing them

The Interview

1. I LOVE the gargoyle aspect. When did this idea pop into your mind?

Thank you! The gargoyle idea was a combined effort. I was stuck in a paranormal vortex of creatures that nobody wanted to read about anymore. My
critique partner and my sister spent several hours brainstorming reasonably unexplored beasties with me. Before I knew what was going on I had a gargoyle
bouncing around my book.

2. What kind of research did you do for your mythology?

I read some articles about the demon and gargoyle feud online, but to be honest with you I wanted to keep it fluid and not get too caught up in someone else’s stories. I knew some stuff about gargoyles from being a kid. My Nanna was actually the one who taught me about how they were meant to frighten away demons with their grotesque faces. I kind of just built my own version of the ‘whys’ and ‘wheres’ and ‘hows’ around that.

3. If one song out there could define your book, what would it be?

This one is tricky….I guess Demons by Imagine Dragons would be at the top of the list…although my playlist is insane. Beau’s soundtrack is definitely The Magic by Joan as Policewoman.

4. If you met your main character at a bar, how would you interact?

If I met Jack I think we’d laugh a lot. At some point I’d no doubt fall in love because he’s a charmer. If I met Beau we’d talk about music and art, and then we’d probably go
back to her gaff to watch a scary movie.

5. If you could live in any literary universe, which would it be?

I want to live in Middle-Earth. I know that’s crazy because Sauron is a jerk, but Legolass would be there and that cancels out all the bad.

6. Are you a plotter or a pantser?

I’m a panster. Absolutely cannot plot to save my life. I might be the most unorganized person on the planet. I’m gonna have ‘Liked To Wing It’ written on my epitaph.

7. How has writing changed your life?

I was pretty poorly a few years back. Writing gave me focus and a new direction. Even before being published, I needed it. That sounds super cheesy, doesn’t it? But it really did!

8. What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

Keep going. I know it’s cliche, but it’s the truth. I think perseverance is key in this profession.

***

Find Louise’s novel IN STONE:

Amazon:

Barnes&Noble:  

Kobo:

Add to Goodreads:

Book Trailer:

***

About The Author

Look at that badass hair!

Look at that badass hair!

Louise is a graduate of Garstang Community Academy. She is currently studying for a BA (Hons) in English language and literature with special emphasis on creative writing. YA aficionado. Brit bird. Film nerd. Identical twin. Junk food enthusiast. Rumored pink Power Ranger. Zombie apocalypse 2012 survivor. She is also an avid collector of book boyfriends.

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook:

Twitter:

Website:

 ***

Giveaway! (US/UK/Canada/Australia only)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

***

Excerpt (Review to Follow)

I recently read this article in Cosmopoli-teen Magazine that gave tips on how to handle a break-up. Basically, the article said: go out; get yourself a new hair cut; buy yourself a shiny new lip gloss, and you’ll no longer feel the pain of being chucked away like yesterday’s trash.

Lies. Being dumped still hurts like a baseball bat to the pancreas. Only now my hair is slightly shorter and my lips taste of Strawberry Sunrise.

In real life, being dumped has me curled up on a bed of frozen grass, trying to soften the sound of a bark-cry with the snot-soaked sleeve of my jacket. I think maybe I will never love anyone ever again. Deciding on a life of celibacy at seventeen may seem a little extreme, but right now I couldn’t give a crap. My insides are bleeding.

A sudden gust of wind charges through the park. It makes the leaves of the Holly trees whisper to one another. The temperature is creeping into subzero territory. Any minute now, I’m going to pick my broken self up off the floor, head back home and probably, maybe, definitely listen to indie bands sing songs about bleeding love.

Any minute now.

I’m telepathically trying to send Mark take-me-back messages when a man’s cry echoes around the park. My eyes pop open. At first I think it’s him, that somehow my mind has found him across miles of landscape, and he’s here to scoop me up off the ground and tell me he’s made a huge mistake. But then I hear it again, louder, urgent, a strangled yelp. It’s a sharp slap back to reality, and I can’t stand up quick enough.

My house is right across the street, barely a two minute walk away, but before I can take a single step the earth beneath my feet begins to tremble. Earthquakes in Plumbridge are as rare as the Dodo bird, so heaven knows why I brace myself for the concrete to split open and swallow me. But I do. And it doesn’t. Instead there’s a dull thud. The shaking ground stills; the wind dies. My sobs cease, and silence, the sort that makes you think the whole world stopped and took a breath all at once, smothers me. Like if I move, the atmosphere might shatter into a million tiny pieces. Slowly, I turn my head toward where the thud came from.

Across the stone path, not three feet away, the full moon sheds silver streams of light onto a motionless man, limbs twisted up all over the place, sort of like a bug smashed up against a windshield.

This is a dream. Got to be a dream. I pinch my arm. I’m not really sure how the concept of pinching yourself during a dream works. Something about only being able to feel the pain when you’re awake? The nip stings all the way down to my elbow, so I guess, according to the rules of dream-science, I’m awake.

Crap.

I look up at the sky, scan the vast, navy-blue blanket for signs of more free-falling men. I laugh, just once, because this is absurd with a big ole side of crazy. I’m spotting for men in the sky as casually as if I were counting clouds.

Minutes tick by before it occurs to me that I have to do something, something that isn’t wishing myself away from this situation. A lump that tastes like Penicillin rises in my throat and sticks there as I find my feet and edge closer to him. I kneel at his side, folding myself slowly, as if I’m about to curtsey. My mind is working at the speed of light, sifting through memories of health class, of one hour sessions trying to breathe life back into a plastic doll, while class clown, Ralph Frasier, pretends to pork his doll at the back of the room.

I push my trembling fingers against the man’s neck. There’s not a wisp of heat rising from his skin. He’s cold and clammy like the corpses at the funeral parlor where mom works. He has no pulse, and there’s no sign of a swell in his chest. He’s dead. He’s as dead as a Resusci-Annie doll.

My left eye breaks out into a twitching frenzy. I push it to a standstill because winking at a dead body is weird, even for me. In the last couple of years I’ve seen my fair share of cadavers, but never one that wasn’t wrapped in a green cloth, tagged around the big toe, and carrying its very own police report. I need to go home, call the cops, get mom.

Mom. Double crap.

She is going to kill me for being out here in the middle of the night. Screwing up a clump of hair in my hand, I slump back on my heels and take in a lungful of icy air. My pajama pants pull tight against my knees, and a cold, sticky sensation blossoms against my skin. My pants are sticking to me. My eye twitch is back with a vengeance, and it brought a dagger to jam into my eyeball. Fighting the hesitation in my fingers, I dab the damp patch. Please let it be dew from the midnight air.

Midnight dewdrops are not bright red.

“Oh god.” I choke at the smudges of blood streaked across my palm. The moonlight makes the deep-red stains glisten like rubies. A scream tears its way up from my chest, only to die in a whimper when I see something poking out of the side of the body.

A handle.

I thought the fall had killed him. Now, I’m not so sure.

I back away, pushed by the idea that this poor victim of a freak falling accident might not be a victim at all. He has a knife sticking out of him. Thoughts of who put it there and why are assaulting me when the body expels a low groan. The sound wraps around my bones like a blanket of ice. Colder than death. Without thinking, I slap my hand over my mouth to stifle a second scream. Huge mistake.

The smell of iron dances under my nose as the moist stamp of almost-corpse blood bonds to my skin. I start spitting, scrubbing at my lips with the sleeve of my jacket. I can taste it. Him. Sharp, sour. I’m so wrapped up in the horror of my macabre facial, I almost forget he’s awake. Almost. I tiptoe back over. I don’t know why I tiptoe. It’s not like the sound of my steps are going to finish him off.

His eyes are wide open. Shining pale-blue with a soft, light behind them. They’re the strangest things. My breath catches, and for a second I know what it’s like to be a moth infatuated by a flame. Then the light goes out, and the color of his eyes dulls to grey. He stares vacantly at the empty space overhead. His lips twitch and slurp at the air, trying to quell a thirst for oxygen.

I can’t decide if he has the felon look. You know the felon look. It’s not down to any single feature, but when you see a photo-fit on the news, those dark circles around tiny eyes, mussed hair and crooked grin just seem to scream the guy is a serial killer. The almost-corpse has a pointy chin, a jaw and cheeks that I think if I ran my finger over I’d give myself a paper cut. His hair is long, dark. It’s pushed back from his face and splayed out around his head like a burnt-out halo. Quite beautiful, in a fragrance commercial kind of way.

My artistic eyes — the ones that I hope will get me into college so I don’t have to follow mom into the business of dressing up the dead — are roaming over his features when I spot something crawling around his cheek. I hone in for a closer look. Not crawling, cracking. Something I can’t see is sucking the moisture right out of him. As if he were clay being overcooked, his skin is splitting. My jaw drops as I watch the tiny lines tear up his face. His lips start moving, slower and more defined. I tip my ear toward him.

Another mistake.

He snatches hold of my hand. His grip is vise-like. I try to pull away, but he’s strong, adamant. My fingers slip because they’re slick with blood. He gives my arm a yank, and I fall forward, stopping inches above his face. He smells like the pages of an old book.

“What’s your name?” he asks. My nails cut through his skin as I try to peel his fingers away, but he doesn’t flinch. “Your name, God damn it.” Boom. He has the voice of a giant.

“Beau. My name is Beau. Let go of me.”

“I found you.” I think he sighs.

“Yeah, you found me,” I say. My ears are flooded with the sound of my heart hammering.

“You see the blade? Beau, you must take it and run with it,” he croaks through labored pants.

“I’m not touching anything. We need to get you to a doctor. Let go of me, and I’ll go get help.” He ignores my request and starts leading my hand toward the knife handle.

“Please, you’re hurting me,” I say as he unhooks my fingers from his and wraps my hand tightly around the handle. He places his hand on top of mine. My knuckles turn white under his squeeze.

“You must do this,” he urges. His giant voice is dead. His words are now limping past his lips. “Take it.”

“My mom’s a doctor,” I lie. Not that it matters. I’m pretty certain this guy is beyond saving. “We live just across the street. She can help you.”

“No! No one else. Just you.” The blade starts to rise. It’s like watching the approaching fin of a Great White. Coincidentally, my heart is hammering out the opening of the Jaws theme tune. The further out the knife comes the more stained with crimson it is. It doesn’t look like any blade I’ve ever seen before. Not that I’m blade savvy or anything, but to me it looks more like I’m pulling bone.

“This is nuts. We need to stop.”

“My time is up,” he says. I’m grimacing, making squeaky sounds and tearless whimpers, as the knife slurps its way back through tough flesh and contracting muscle. It slips all the way out amidst a trickle of blood. The Lasagna I’d had for dinner sloshes about in my stomach.

“Listen to me. Listen,” he chokes. “You must do this. You have to take the blade and hide it where no one will ever find it. You have to do this.” He gasps. “Before he comes.”

“He?” I ask. I can’t pull my eyes away from the knife. An onslaught of drool is collecting inside my bottom lip. Wonderment. Can I say wonderment when I’m not a kid dreaming of sugarplums and warm, woolen mittens? I don’t care; wonderment is what’s got me when I look at the knife.

“He wants the blade, but you can’t let him have it, understand? If he has it the Gargoyle will become the hunted.” The almost-corpse exhales a long sigh, and his hand falls from around mine. The knife is in my hand now, only my hand.

I’m holding it.

It looks old. There are several lines of inscription carved into the handle. I can’t read it;  I can barely see it through the blood, but I can feel the swirling, intricate lines like brail under my thumb.

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand at all. This is insane,” I exhale. “Who are you? What is this?”

“I am one of the Gargoyle. At least, that is what I was,” he replies.

“A Gargoyle? Is that some sort of gang?”

“It’s my job to protect you,” he says. He’s delusional, exhausted, sucking on his bottom lip in search of some moisture. I’m not sure he knows what he’s saying anymore. “But alas, my life has become a lie.” He groans. Then his cracking face starts to dissipate and blow away in the wind. I think some of it gets in my eyes because they start to sting. When I blink, the world is dressed in a fuzzy black haze. I try to rub my vision clear, but am unsuccessful.

“You must go now,” the man exclaims in a sharp breath. I quit rubbing my eyes and look back down on him. His stare swells. Something about my face makes his lower lip quiver. The way he’s glaring has me craving a bath of boiling water and some antiseptic scrub.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What…what have I done?”

“I don’t know. What have you done?”

He doesn’t answer. I know it’s time to run when the atmosphere starts to shake again, and the almost-corpse flicks his eyes toward a thick congregation of trees.

Interview with @Georgia_McBride and Her Fantastic Novel Praefatio & Giveaway!

Today I have the distinct pleasure to host an interview with author and publisher extrordinaire, Georgia McBride! Her novel, Praefatio, has just released, and it is fantastic (if I do say so myself). Review to come.

About the Book

PRAEFATIO Cover

The story of 17-year-old Grace Ann Miller is that of no ordinary runaway. Touching upon topics such as mental illness, teen pregnancy, and the relationship between victims and abductors, this is Grace’s account of weeks on the run, falling in love, and losing everything but her faith. After being missing for weeks, Grace turns up on the estate of international rock star Gavin Vault, half-dressed and yelling for help. Over the course of 24 hours, she holds an entire police force captive with incredulous tales of angels, demons, and war, intent on saving Gavin from lockup and her family from worry over her safety. Instead, authorities believe that Grace is ill, the victim of assault and suffering from a severely fractured mind as a result of Stockholm Syndrome. Undeterred, Grace reveals the secret existence of dark angels on Earth, an ancient prophecy, and a wretched curse steeped in biblical myth. Her claims set into motion an ages-old war, pitting sister against brother and light versus darkness, resulting in blood, death, and the loss of everything that matters. Faced with corrupt police officers, eager doctors, and accusing journalists, Grace must convince all of them that her delusions are actually the truth, with nothing but her word as proof.

****

I had the chance to bombard Georgia with questions 😉

You wear so many hats. How do you manage to fit in all of the awesome work you do?

GM:  I’m pretty sure I’m failing miserably. I don’t sleep much, I eat very unhealthy things at odd hours and I get frequent headaches. That said, I try to dedicate one day/weekly to YALitChat – and that’s Wednesdays. The rest of the time is dedicated to being a publisher and author.

What was the first plot bunny that inspired Praefatio?

GM: They all came at one time – the girl with the incredulous story, the boy accused of unspeakable crimes and the incident that would change everything we believe.

If one song out there could define your book, what would it be?

GM: I listened to a ton of 30 Seconds to Mars while writing this book. I think A Beautiful Lie kind of sums it up though.

If you met your main character at a bar, how would you interact?

GM: First, I would be all fan girl and crazy. I know it. I have a major literary crush on Grace Ann Miller. I would be like, “Hey Girl. I created you. Don’t you love all those amazing kissing scenes I wrote for you?”

If you could live in any literary universe, which would it be?

GM: Wow. That’s a tough one. I think I would like to perhaps live in the world Delirium. Love hurts so much sometimes. People kill when they can’t have it. We wouldn’t have that problem.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

GM:I hate plotting. Not gonna lie.

How has writing changed your life?

GM: Writing has brought be a wonderful community of people who are supportive. It has also afforded me the opportunity to do something I love – writing and publishing. It’s really been a blessing to me and many others.

What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

GM: Just write. Don’t worry about what others are writing or doing. Just write.

****

About the Author

Goergia McBride Photo

Georgia McBride is the founder of Month9Books, which publishes speculative fiction for teens and tweens, and YALITCHAT.ORG, a nonprofit organization fostering the advancement of young adult literature worldwide. She lives in Raleigh, North Carolina.

Book Links: Goodreads Barnes And Noble

Author Links: WebsiteFacebook PageTwitterPinterest

Month9Books: WebsiteBlogger CentralFacebookTwitterPinterestGoodreads
****
Enter HERE for a giveaway of Praefatio!

Interview with @jordanlink3 Author Jordan Link and her book The Sacrificed + Giveaway!

SACRIFICED200x300-2-29

About the Book

Emerald Hayden lives in the City of Centsia, a half-winged among the other walkers. She has no family, friends, or food: only a grim future filled with tiresome labor in the upper level’s factories.

But everything changes when she meets Dusk, a winged from the place that she previously scorned. He opens her eyes to a new possibility: the possibility of the unity of winged and walkers, of freedom, and of love.

Together, they decide to challenge the upper level’s supreme, winged council. But when a friend betrays them, they must choose whether to sacrifice their beliefs and save their own lives, or to remain along the thin line that divides the city in two. Success could mean liberty; failure, death.

I’ve had the pleasure to interview Jordan about her new release!

1.  What was the biggest inspiration for the world you’ve built?

My inspiration for writing has changed from year to year, but one thing that has kept me going is the dream of one day holding a book that I’ve written. Of course, an e-book is especially close, and is a great for any author to begin their career.
2. What makes the characters of The Sacrificed different?

What makes the teenaged characters of The Sacrificed different is the realism of their personalities. Since I am a teenager as well, I was able to make their decisions based on solutions I might find. Though the characters, especially Emerald, are much stronger and confident than I, there is still a faint reflection of my personality in theirs.


3. If one song out there could define your book, what would it be?

 

I’ve been asked this question many times, and I am able to interpret the plot in many different ways. One song that truly represents the struggle walkers face against the winged is “Do You Hear The People Sing” from Les Miserables.


4. If you met your main character at a bar, how would you interact?

*Slight spoiler*

I would be shocked, because Emerald gave up drinking after such an incident landed a number of her peers dead.

 

5. If you could live in any literary universe, which would it be? 

 

I’ve considered this, and I am aware that many would want to live in the magical world of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series. Though it does rank high on my list, I would rather venture in Percy Jackson’s mythological world, created by Rick Riordan. Having mentioned the two, there is one requirement for each. In a world where Hogwarts existed, I’d need to be a wizard/witch. In a world where Camp Half Blood was reality, I’d need to be a demigod.


6. Are you a plotter or a pantser? 

 

I’m a bit of both! I plot the main points of the novel, so holes and unsolved plotlines do not plague the story. And then I fill everything in between—the lesser adventures, the minor characters.
7. How has writing changed your life?

 

Writing is my favorite story-telling outlet. It’s creating a movie directly in the mind of a reader. Nothing else in this world has the same effect. Without writing, I would never want to explore, to experience everything that Earth has to offer. After all, the most descriptive scenes about foreign countries and imaginary lands are within the pages of books.
8. What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

 

I don’t understand why authors finish projects and leave them to sit idly in the ‘Documents’ folder. Take those projects and send them to literary agents. Send them to publishers! There’s no day like the present to make your life the way you want it to be.

 

***
Buy The Book
Amazon:

 

Barnes & Noble

KOBO

About The Author

Jordan

Jordan Link is currently contracted with Entranced Publishing for her novel “The Sacrificed”, which will be released on May 6, 2013. She won first place in Jack L. Chalker’s Young Writers Contest of 2012 for her short story “The Bubble”, and attended Balticon 46 last year. She earned an honorable mention on December 3rd for the Young Voices Foundation Short Story Contest and will be published in their anthology “Oh, the Stories They Tell!” which will be available on Amazon. Her early love of reading inspired an equivalent passion towards writing, and she plans to continue doing so.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/TheSacrificedNovel?ref=hl

 Blog: http://jordanlinkwriting.blogspot.com/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6965780.Jordan_Link

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/JordanLink3

***

Excerpt from The Sacrificed

Slowly, ever so slowly, she dropped to her knees and peered around the corner.

There was a winged boy standing there, muttering something to a few walkers. It was impossible to distinguish the color of his eyes, or even his expression from her sheltered position, but his features were still rather shocking. His hair was a creamy white, a pigment that Emerald had only ever seen on the heads of other winged. His skin was pasty and faded. She wondered between pounding heartbeats how the winged remained so pale when they spent so many days in the sky above Centsia, arcing near the curve of the sun and circling back around again as they went to and from their duties. The boy’s wings, however, were by far his most striking feature. The feathers seemed to form intricate pictures as they fluttered in the midnight breeze. Emerald continued to stare as the boy withdrew something from his pocket.

It was bread.

Want to read more? Enter the Giveaway HERE!

Interview with @STbende ST Bende and her book ELSKER plus excerpt!

I’m so excited to present to you today my interview with ST Bende about her book ELSKER!

ELSKER200x300-3

***

Thanks so much for letting me visit today, Lindsay.  As a debut author, it’s been fantastic to be embraced by such a lovely group of bloggers.  Y’all have been so gracious!

ELSKER, Book One in THE ELSKER SAGA, follows twenty-year-old Kristia Tostenson as she leaves her small town to find adventure at Cardiff University in Wales.  Kristia gets a lot more than she bargained for when she falls in love with Ull Myhr.  He’s not just a graduate student – he’s an Asgardian Assassin and the Norse God of Winter.  Kristia’s orderly life is about to get seriously complicated.

 Interview

Being a Finn, I love Scandinavian mythology. What part of your research was the most fun?

Hei hei!  The mythology is fantastic, isn’t it?  It’s so complex, with nine realms and scores of creatures, and it’s so, so dark.  There’s just so much to work with.  Researching the myths might have been my favorite part of writing Elsker.  I read every book I could find at our little library, including the kids books.  (Note to whoever’s in charge of marketing Scandinavian mythology to kids: you might want to scale back on some of the gruesome illustrations.  Just sayin’.  Who knew trolls were so scary?)

It was important to me to develop a male lead most people hadn’t heard of, so I didn’t do much reading on Thor, Odin and the lot.  And although the God of Winter is pretty popular with skiers (did you know there’s an Ull Festival in Colorado?  I’d love to go one day!), most people aren’t familiar with him.  I knew Ull was my guy when my library got a textbook written by a Scandinavian Studies professor.  It was over three hundred pages long, with only a paragraph-long mention of Ull.  He was pretty much a scholarly blank page, and I couldn’t wait to create his back-story.

 

 How does Elsker push the envelope for fantasy?

Although there are plenty of stories about Greek gods interacting with mortals, there aren’t a ton of YA/NA books that focus on Scandinavian mythology.  Asgard is a radically different world from Mt. Olympus, and the existence of the nine realms opens up a slew of potential bad guys and allies.  The Greeks have their Hydra and Titans, but we’ve got Jotuns, Dark Elves, Trolls, and these visionary Norns.  And bringing it all to Midgard (Earth), and seeing it through the eyes of a girl whose frame of reference is a 300 person town with one stoplight… well, in that context, the mythological Norse world just seems even crazier.  As a writer, it was a dream to have so many types of characters to play with.  And as a reader, hopefully it’s a journey that’s different than anything you’ve seen before.

 If one song out there could define your book, what would it be?

It’s Time, by Imagine Dragons.  My small town girl and my Norse god are literally from two different worlds.  Kristia’s future is unwritten, and she moves to Wales for a fresh start.  Ull comes from a world where his destiny was set at birth, and he feels powerless over his fate. “I get a little bit bigger but then I admit, I’m just the same as I was.  Now don’t you understand?  I’m never changing who I am.”  Ull would love to feel like he could change the future, but he believes he’s on a predestined course he has to follow.  And Kristia’s going to do everything she can to show him he’s wrong.

 If you met your main character at a bar, how would you interact?

If I met Ull in real life I would giggle uncontrollably, turn bright red, ask to take a picture with him, blurt out “I love you” like the grown-up that I am, then run the other way.

If you could live in any literary universe, which would it be?

I’d enroll at Hogwarts and hang out with Ron, Hermione and Harry.  I would totally be a Gryffindor, and Hermione and I could share our obsessively detailed class notes.  On weekends we’d stuff our faces at Honeydukes, though I would never, ever try a Bertie Botts Every Flavored Bean.  Ever.

I got to meet Gary Oldman when he was promoting Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, and while all the other adults asked him savvy questions about his illustrious acting career, I shoved my Harry Potter book at him and begged for an autograph.  He signed it “Gary Oldman/Sirius B.”  It’s one of my most prized possessions.

 Are you a plotter or a pantser?

A pantser.  Since I wrote Elsker for myself, I didn’t really think much about where it was going or how it would flow.  I just sat at the keyboard and waited to see what would happen.  I wrote the scenes I wanted to as I thought of them, then went back and pieced them together.  It made for some crazy storylines, not all of which made the final cut, but it was really fun.

 How has writing changed your life?

Writing lets me purge my creative energy.  It’s something I can do on my own, whenever I have the time, and there aren’t any rules.  It’s a fantastic release.  Getting to share Elsker with the world is really scary, but it’s also the first time I’ve gotten to introduce my imaginary friends to anyone else.  And that’s exciting.

What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

I’ll be honest, I’ve never really thought of myself as a writer.  It’s just something I love doing, for me.  And if you love something, you shouldn’t let anything stop you from doing it.  Don’t worry about whether what you’re doing is marketable, or whether you’ll ever get an agent or a publishing deal.  Just do what you love, and take pride in knowing that you are pursuing your passion.

That said, if publication is your goal, a good critique partner is invaluable.  I’m such a huge fan of mine, we recently wrote a YA project together.  We had a blast.  *Waves* Hi, Jacque!

 ***

THE ELSKER SAGA is available now from Entranced Publishing.

TUR, the prequel, can be downloaded for free at http://www.entrancedpublishing.com/imprints-2/blush/elsker/

ELSKER, Book 1, is available from Entranced, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

Find ST Bende on Twitter : @STBende

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/stbende

or at (http://stbende.blogspot.com/).

And be sure to stop by http://stbende.blogspot.com/ between April 11th and May 20th to enter to win fabulous prizes in the ELSKER Release Month of Giveaways!

***

BONUS Excerpt!

ELSKER – Book 1, THE ELSKER SAGA

At eight o’clock, a firm knock interrupted my reading.  I picked my way through the flower shop that our living room had become and opened the door.

“Oh good, you kept my peace offerings.”  Ull treated me to a rakish grin.

“Just a few of them,” I muttered.  “Come on in.”

“Oh, no.  You must come with me.”

“Why?”  I challenged.  Ull sighed.

“Are you going to fight me at every turn?”

“Probably.”

“Please come.”  He looked so adorable standing on my stoop, his scarf casually thrown across the grey sweater under his coat.  I gave in quicker than I meant to.

“Fine.”  I grabbed my coat from the closet by the door and shoved my keys and wallet into the pocket.  “Where are we off to?”  I closed the door behind me and followed Ull into the brisk night, waiting for his promised explanation.

But he didn’t say anything.  Instead, he put his hand on the small of my back and guided me away from campus.  I shivered and noticed that Ull wore his jacket open, at ease in the chill.  As we rounded the corner, Ull dropped his hand to clasp mine.  It was so warm, so strong, and for a moment I forgot to be mad at him.  We walked in silence as he led me down the main road.  After two right turns, I found myself standing in a quiet garden.

Ull had brought me to a church.

***

Interview with Krystalyn Drown @KrysteyBelle , Author of Spirit World

Spirit World Cover

About the Book:

All Riesa Adair wants is a normal life. With the end of high school only months away and an outstanding GPA to bolster her college plans, that doesn’t seem like too much to ask. Unfortunately, the voices screaming in her head keep getting in the way. Somewhere between her summer in a mental institution, and her stepfather’s attempt at an exorcism, she’s learned to keep quiet about her situation. But, pretending to be normal hasn’t prevented the spirit world from taking notice of her. Both sides of an ever-present war have focused in on her. Now she’ll need all the help she can get to escape a powerful spirit threatening to fulfill a prophecy that engenders the entire human world.

Today I am pleased to present Krystalyn Drown and her novel, Spirit World. I had a few questions to ask her about her journey to publication.

***

Were there ever any times you were scared while writing the book?

Scared? No. There were a million other emotions though. Frustration that I would never get my book seen. Joy in the kinship I found with my characters. Amusement at the secret little jokes that I put in just for me (some of which were eventually cut.)

What (if any) mythologies  inspired the world in Spirit World?

There weren’t any classic mythologies that went into Spirit World. It was inspired more by modern day sci-fi movies and shows, Firefly and Buffy the Vampire Slayer among them.

If one song out there could define your book, what would it be?

Hm, I am not a person who listens to music while I’m writing. I need absolute quiet. If I had to pick one, I’d say “Carry On” by Fun.

If you met your main character at a bar, how would you interact?

Well first off, Riesa is 17, so she most likely wouldn’t be in a bar. But if she managed to sneak in, it would probably be to drown out the voices in her head. She would hide out at a corner table, doing her best not to attract attention to herself. There, she would drink until the walls began to swirl. Then her best friend would show up to take her home.

If you could live in any literary universe, which would it be?

Probably somewhere peaceful and drama free, like at Mistlethwaite Manor in The Secret Garden.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Definitely a panster. One of my critique partners and I write in very similar ways. We send each other chapter by chapter what we’re writing. That way, if we see a strange path or something that isn’t working, we can point it out to each other.  That said, I usually have to start over about halfway through my first draft, because I’ve gotten to know my characters better and know better what needs to be in the beginning.

How has writing changed your life?

I’ve gotten to meet lots of wonderful authors online and in person. It’s a great community. People are very welcoming and helpful.  My life hasn’t changed in too many other ways, since writing is something I’ve always done.

What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

Don’t be afraid to write a terrible first draft. They are all terrible. Just get it down, so you can revise and make it better. Find at least two critique partners. They are invaluable. There are plenty of websites that frequently host critique partner connections, kidlit.com among them.

***

My Review:

Spirit World is a refreshing read with interesting characters and a unique take on paranormal romance. Reisa is a high-school senior dealing with her fair share of problems: stress, family issues; Oh, and hearing voices in her head. Then she meets Garrett and is thrust into a world where carries the reponsibility of using the gift she once thought as a curse to keep the world safe.

Krystalyn Drown has weaved a nice tale with great writing. The characters are real and interesting, and Reisa’s background has some interesting twists. It’s a quick, enjoyable read, and is unique from other paranormal romance works that seem to bleed into each other.

***

About the Author:

Author Photo

Krystalyn spent the past thirteen years working at Walt Disney World in a variety of roles: entertainer, talent coordinator, and character captain. Her degree in theatre as well as many, many hours spent in a dance studio, helped with her job there.

Her various other day jobs have included working in zoology at Sea World, as an elementary teacher, and currently as a support technician for a website. In the evenings, she does mad writing challenges with her sister, who is also an author.

Krystalyn lives near Orlando, Florida with her husband, son, a were cat, and a Yorkie with a Napoleon complex.

Find her here:

Website

Twitter

Facebook

                                                                                           Goodreads

***

Look for Spirit World, due April 8th, from Entranced Publishing

Interview with Ashley(Charlotte Davila), Author of The Lady and the Highwayman PLUS #giveaway

Don’t forget about the excerpt and giveaway at the bottom!
the-lady-and-the-highwayman-200x300-29

About the Book:

Lady Elizabeth Bennington has the perfect life: she’s the daughter of an earl and betrothed to her childhood friend, William Hartley, the second son of a duke. But, when her sister’s indiscretion leads to an unplanned pregnancy, and the subsequent disgrace of Elizabeth’s entire family, her idyllic life is thrown into disarray.

First, her fiance is prohibited from marrying her. Then she receives word that William has been killed by thieves. To top it all off, she gets abducted by a highwayman. Can Elizabeth find love again, and with the most unlikely of people?

***

Burning Tree Reads Interviews Ashley, writing as Charlotte Davila

What first drew you in to this historical period?

I am a huge history buff and the Georgian period in England happens to be one of the most interesting in  my opinion culturally, politically, and fashion-wise.

What makes  Elizabeth a strong and interesting character?

She is different than most of her  contemporaries, yet she tries to reconcile that difference with the societal  expectations and pressures she endures.

If one song out there could  define your book, what would it be?

That’s a hard one because it’d be a  classical music piece. Maybe Mozart’s Requiem.

If you met your main  character at a bar, how would you interact?

We probably wouldn’t. She’d be a little too prim and proper for my tastes.

If you could live in any literary universe, which would it be?

I have no idea. It varies on depending on my moods.

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

Every book is different.  Sometimes I’m a plotter, sometimes as a pantser.

How has writing changed your life?

I wouldn’t say that it has. I’ve been doing it my entire life so I can’t imagine a life without.

***

Find more about The Lady and the Highwayman, from Entranced Publishing, here:

About the Author:

As a child, Ashley M. Christman spent many hours in imaginary worlds, exploring the depths of mythology and immersing herself in a breadth of classics. After spending so much time reading, she decided to try her hand at writing.

An avid fan of film noir, she combines fantasy, noir style heroes and heroines, and the paranormal in a modern day setting in a way that hopefully would make even Bogie proud.

When not writing, she can be found in the wilds of Minnesota enjoying great cuisine, avoiding the gym, and being walked by the dog with her partner, Tom.

Website

Goodreads

Facebook

Twitter

Excerpt:

Every morning, at exactly half past noon, Lady Bennington began her traverse of the entire length of Rathbonne, the Bennington family estate. She did this at the insistence of her Mama, who recommended that she do so in order to have a desirable marriage. It was advice that she took very seriously — that is to say she took only half of it very seriously. She refused to refrain from pastries and pies, both of which satisfied her demanding sweet tooth.

The estate did not make for an easy walk. It spanned over twenty acres and took her the better part of half an hour to complete, if she moved at a leisurely pace. She always moved at a leisurely pace, getting lost in her thoughts and fantasies of faraway lands and foreign cultures.

Sometimes, rather than walk back to the house, she would bring a book and stay in the high field amongst the shepherds and their grazing sheep, and read. This morning she decided that rather than reading in the high field, she’d go to the brook behind the property that divided Rathbonne from the neighboring Highborne estate. Highborne was the country home of the Duke of Staffordshire and his family, with whom the Benningtons were well acquainted. She removed the blanket from under her arm and smoothed it out on the grass beneath the tall oak, making herself cozy enough to lose herself in Paradise Lost.

“Lady Elizabeth, I bid you good afternoon,” a familiar voice yelled in the distance.

Elizabeth looked up from her book. Lord William Hartley, her childhood friend and the second son of the Duke, was approaching on horseback. Will, like herself, was a younger child and the two of them had been raised closely. Unlike Elizabeth, he would inherit property in his own right, and his father’s title if something should cause the death of his brother. Elizabeth’s fortunes relied entirely on her marrying well.

Click Here For Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway