Interview with C.L. Wilson Author of The Sea King
Give a warm welcome to C.L. Clark, author of The Sea King, book two of the Weather Mages of Mystral
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cauldron, a Bat Wing Chocolate Chip, Pumpkin or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out about C.L. Wilson and The Sea King.
Tell us what inspired this particular story?
I actually had no idea I was going to write THE SEA KING until I got to the end of THE WINTER KING (the first Weathermages of Mystral book) and met Dilys Merimydion. He just showed up and leapt off the pages, demanding his own story. Then he worked out an agreement with Khamsin, helping her defeat the Ice King in exchange for her welcoming him and his men to Wintercraig to court potential wives.
When I was first sitting down to write his book, I thought Autumn was going to be his bride, but as I started brainstorming the plot and the characters, I realized I was wrong. Summer, who I thought was a sweet, gentle little doormat, took one look at Dilys and said, “um, no. He’s mine.”
Do you see yourself in your characters?
Actually, I don’t. My characters are their own people. What I do do is work hard to understand them, to understand how they feel and how/why they react to certain people and situations. (If I don’t understand it, I can’t write it.) While I’m writing a character’s story, I’m taking the same journey they are, being just as surprised as they are, feeling just as emotional as they do. I cannot plot what obstacles they are going to encounter, and I can’t determine how they’re emotionally going to react to something until it’s upon them, and even then, how they react is based on everything that’s come before, so I can’t do too much writing out of sequence without a ton of revisions.
Basically, my characters let me step outside of myself and be someone else for a while. I imagine it’s pretty similar to how method actors feel when they’re deep in a role.
Where do your story ideas come from? If they come to you in the middle of the night, do you get up and write them all down?
My ideas come from all over the place. I was driving down the road a couple of weeks ago, listening to Hell on Heels, and got a story idea. Sometimes I dream about stories (but that’s usually only about something I’m currently writing). In that case, yes, I have to get up and write it down else I might forget it. Sometimes I’ll read a book, and the feeling a particular scene or character gives me makes me sit up and take notice. Then I play around with that feeling in my head, looking for ways to explore that feeling in my own way.
Most of the time, I’ll have some half-baked kernel of an idea, then I call up my brainstorming buddies, the Starfish Club, and they help me turn my half-baked ideas into something more viable. Lord love ‘em.
Why do you write what you write? Contemporary, paranormal, suspense, etc.
I write epic fantasy romance. Well, that’s primarily what I publish. I have WIPs and unpublished/unfinished manuscripts in contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal/futuristic romance. I usually write romance of some kind, and I generally prefer to write stories that have some sort of magic or supernatural element in them. The romance is because I love the emotional connection and all the excitement, passion, and drama of finding and falling in love. The fantasy/paranormal is because I love world-building, love figuring out “if people could do this (insert magical/preternatural ability) how would they use it? How would that ability change who they are/what they’re like/how they behave?” Hey, if I’m going to play make-believe and tell a story, why not go all out and just have fun with all manner of imagination?
Lanier and Lake Allatoona. When she wasn’t waterskiing and camping on family vacations, you could usually find her with a book in one hand and a sketch pad in the other—either reading, writing stories, or drawing.
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Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged C.L. Wilson, Paranormal, Romance, The Sea King, Weather Mages of Mystral by Tena Stetler with 1 comment.
Barbra E. Ross, Author of A Mortal Indiscretion
Give a warm welcome to Barbra E. Ross, author of A Mortal Indiscretion – A Justin and Ambra Series – book one!
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cauldron. Take your choice of a bat wing Chocolate Chip or Pumpkin, or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Barbara E. Ross and her A Mortal Indiscretion – The Justin and Ambra Series, book one. Be sure to read to the bottom and enter the rafflecopter giveaway!
Everything unravels in Justin’s world. Although Ambra is a vampire, she is the vulnerable one of the two characters, providing a refreshing twist on standard tales. She is not waiting for her prince to come save her on his white horse. She simply desires love, to feel human love again and will do anything to protect the love of Justin.
When Justin discovers the truth about who and what she is, will he still love her? Will he still want her? Find out, as their hearts collide in this epic tale of love.
A peek between the pages of A Mortal Indiscretion – The Justin and Ambra Series
“Why did you not give her a chance? Then maybe you would be…”
“She isn’t you. No one makes me feel like you do. No one,” I said and she looked over at me.
“You still believe that? After all I have put you through? After all I have done?”
“Yes. I believe it. I know it.”
“But you must realize, that I am not what you thought I was. Don’t you?”
“Yes. I know that.”
“But, I do not understand. Does it not upset you?” she asked.
“Yes. It upsets me. But you owe me the truth, and you are going to tell me the truth now, right? No more lies?”
“Yes Justin. And then, maybe you will go running to that girl. Maybe you should go after her right now. There may still be a chance.”
“No. I don’t run away. That is your thing.”
She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, naked. She turned her back to me. I looked at her back, so sexy. Shoulders strong and defined. She had her arms across her chest. She knew I was going to ask the questions. I think she was mentally preparing herself for the blows.
“Go ahead Justin. Ask.”
“First of all… You’re not gonna tell me that you have to work in the morning, are you? Because I ain’t falling for that shit anymore,” I said. It just slipped out of my mouth. Like I didn’t have a filter between my brain in my mouth.
“No. I suppose you would not.” She turned to look at me.
“And you are staying here with me, right? I am going to have the pleasure of your company during the day? Right?” I pressed, as I felt my anger rising.
“Yes, I will stay. But I cannot go out with you during the day. You will have to keep the shades drawn. It is just not that simple to explain.” She kept her head down as she spoke these words.
“Fine. I can handle that. Tell me, what exactly would happen if I did open the shades Ambra?”
“I would burn up and die,” she stated, flatly.
“What are you Ambra? Are you ready to tell me to my face now?” I was insistent. “Because I really need to know.”
“I am…” She started and then, she became silent again.
“Say it, dammit! I want to hear you say it to me,” I was really getting pissed.
“I am a monster,” she whispered.
“What? What kind of monster? You tell me God dammit!” I yelled.
“A vampire,” she said it so quietly, keeping her back to me.
“You turn around and say it to my face. You have kept this from me for so long. I want you to look me in the eye! I deserve it!” I grabbed her shoulders as I yelled at her. She turned to me, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Justin, I am a vampire.”
It was spooktacular having you with us today. Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with A Mortal Indiscretion – The Justin and Ambra Series, book one. Happy Halloween!
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Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged A Mortal Indescretion, Barbar E. Ross, Paranormal, Romance, romantic suspense, The Justin and Ambra Series, Vampire by Tena Stetler with 2 comments.
Deep in the Hollow by Brandy Nacole
Give a warm welcome to Brandy Nacole, author of Deep in the Hollow, Chindi Series!
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cauldron, a Bat Wing Chocolate Chip, Pumpkin or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out about Deep in the Hollow.
Prologue
July 11, 1972
Once again I’ve fallen prey to MaryAnn’s pleading, and I follow her out the window, my stomach churning with dread, a contrast to her excitement. I don’t know why I let her talk me into these things. She’s always getting us into trouble, has been since we were little. Yet, here I am, still following her after seven years of mistake after mistake. There’s something about her I can’t say no to. I’ve always thought of her as my sister, not my cousin, and considering we were born only two days apart, we are more like sisters—look like it too. But still, even sisters tell each other no every once in a while. Not me. This time though, I should have.
Our tiny flashlights give off little light in the dark forest, mine unsteady as it shakes in my hand. Thorns scrape at my skin and I look back, hoping to see a light in the cabin on and my grandfather coming out to see where us girls have run off to. No such luck. The small, two-bedroom cedar cabin is dark, its frame nothing but an outline against the trees around it.
“I think we should go back,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
“Will you quit whining, Ester? This is no different than walking through the woods during the daylight.”
I beg to differ. During the day, the green leaves look welcoming, not over-powering and creepy like now. I don’t feel trapped and afraid when walking these familiar woods when the sun is shining bright, but now I do.
“But, MaryAnn, grandpa said—”
“He was just trying to scare you,” she hisses, as she shines her light on a raccoon scavenging for food. It rushes off to hide from what he perceives as danger and we continue on through the thicket.
No matter what MaryAnn says, I know she’s wrong. I saw the fear in our grandfather’s eyes as he told us the story of the thing that haunts these woods. MaryAnn had been enthralled as she sat by the fire, her eyes bright, her body unmoving as she absorbed every word. I had been terrified. Our grandfather has never been a skeptical man, always saying rumors and legends are nonsense. “What you don’t see with your eyes, don’t witness with your mouth.” So to see the fear in his eyes as he witnessed the story he told us tonight is enough to convince me he was telling the truth, and not just some tale to scare his grandchildren.
An owl hoots overhead and a chill slowly creeps up my back, making me shiver.
“I think we should wait. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
MaryAnn ignores my pleas, knowing I won’t go back alone.
The leaves rustle as a slight wind picks up. I can no longer see the outline of the cabin. I don’t know if it’s from my fear, but our lights seem to grow dimmer, making the darkness feel as if it is weighing down on us.
A small clearing comes into view, with timber laying hazardously along the ground.
“We are almost there,” MaryAnn whispers. “This is where grandpa and his workers have been logging close to the overlook.”
Good. Once we reach the overlook and she sees it is the same during the night as it is during the day, we can go back to the safety of the cabin. I can already feel the relief of being back under my blankets, eagerly waiting for morning, with the fresh smell of biscuits baking in the oven and bacon frying in the pan filling the air.
Whoosh.
“What was that?” I ask, panicked, and spin around in a circle, my flashlight shaking with more force.
“Ester, please stop this nonsense. I’m sure it was nothing.”
Once on the other side of the clearing, we start the mile hike up the incline and once again I wish we had stuck to the main road instead of taking the shorter path through the woods. The ground is slick from the rain we had yesterday, and with every step I take, I lose two as I slide back down.
MaryAnn grabs my hand, steadying me, as we both use our weight to climb the impossible hill.
Whoosh.
“Did you hear that?” she asks, her voice a bit higher than before.
I close my eyes, my stomach tensing. She better not be playing any games with me. I will rat her out in a heartbeat if she is.
“Yes. What do you think it is?”
Before she can answer, a strange mist builds in front of us. I examine it closely and point it out to MaryAnn, but before it takes on a shape, it’s gone.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
A strong wind spins around us, and not caring about what MaryAnn thinks, I let go of her hand and tumble back down the hill, scared for my life. My feet are unsteady as the land levels out again and I fall over a log. Seconds later, MaryAnn lands on top of me.
“Come on!” she screams, terror in her voice. “We have to get back to the cabin.”
“What did you see?” I demand, as I race after her, dodging fallen limbs. But she doesn’t answer. She keeps running, looking back to make sure that I am close behind her.
A strong force comes from behind me and I’m shoved into MaryAnn’s back, making us both lose our footing.
Whoosh.
Tears pour down my face as we scramble to our feet, our flashlights lost in the darkness. We try our hardest to run through the darkness with no light to guide our way. MaryAnn grabs my hand, our sweaty fingers clinging as tightly as they can while we try to make out where we are.
When MaryAnn screams, her body jerked away from me, I feel as if I can’t breathe. Something is trying to take her from me. My grip on her hand tightens, my small twelve year old frame pulling as hard as possible against whatever is trying to tug her away.
A movement behind her catches my eye as we struggle, but I can’t make out who or what it is. It’s shrouded in a black cloak, practically invisible under the blanket of night. I do make out the grey mist behind it, as if it’s drifting and waiting for its prey.
My heart thrums, feeling as if it’s trying to escape out of my chest, and my throat grows tight as I choke on my tears. MaryAnn screams, begging me not to let go of her, as our fingers begin to slip.
Why can no one hear us? We have to be close to the cabin.
A sharp pain explodes in the back of my head, and I pitch forward, disoriented. My legs slip out from beneath me, and I can feel myself losing consciousness. MaryAnn’s fingers slip out of mine as I land against the damp leaves on the ground. The last thing I hear is her pleading for me to save her.
Happy Halloween!
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Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Paranormal by Tena Stetler with comments disabled.
Karilyn Bentley, Author of Demon Lore
Welcome Karilyn Bentley who joins our spooktacular Halloween celebration with a 99¢ Sale on Demon Lore! Book 1 of A Demon Huntress Series.
Pull up a chair, grab a drink of your choice from the cooler, a Chocolate Chip or Peanut Butter cookie from the plate, and let’s find out a little about Karilyn and her Demon Lore.
Tell us something no one knows about you. Once I read the Little House on the Prairie series as a child, I knew I wanted to be a writer just like her childhood idol, Laura Ingalls Wilder. It took over twenty years to make my dream come true but I finally got my chance after placing in The Wild Rose Press’s Got Wolf contest. Now I blend fantasy and romance mixed with a touch of funny.
Good for you!
I”ll take a moment here to review Demon Lore.
I love October and Halloween! So of course I had to read Demon Lore a book about magic, demons, evil, and weird. Demon Lore is funny, scary, crazy and snarky. Did I say I love snark? Well I do and Gin makes snark into an art form. In this story, Gin is an ER Nurse with empathic abilities. Her twin brother is Tonic who talks to ghosts. Who names their kids Gin and Tonic? Had a good giggle over that.
After hearing unusual sounds, Gin shoves into a hospital room where her doctor friend has sustained life-threatening injuries. When she floats through his mind she sees a bracelet that he refuses to let go, though it may cost him his life. Then suddenly the bracelet is in her pocket as the doctor is rushed to surgery. Should she put the bracelet on? Her twin has something to say about that. Who was that stranger with the dead black eyes? What Agency and who is Detective Smythe? I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you, and that would be a shame because you wouldn’t get to read this page turning tale!
Did I mention the fork, spiked-tongue demon she may have the hots for or the sexy guardian that may or may not be a good guy? Just a few questions you’ll find the answers to in Demon Lore.
I loved A Demon’s Lore and look forward to finishing the rest of the series.
Okay, here we go with the Speed Round (one word only answer): Yep, I know torture for a writer!<evil laugh>
Favorite movie: Star Wars series
Favorite book: Fires of Winter by Roberta Gellis
Last book read: Illumination by Susannah Sandlin
Favorite color: Green
Stilettos or flipflops: Stilettos
Coffee or tea: tea
Ebook or audiobook or paperback: ebook or paperback
Pencil or pen: pen
Favorite song: Demons by Imagine Dragons
Streak or not: NOT!
Favorite dessert: cherry cobbler
Favorite junk food: anything with chocolate in it
Favorite thing to do to relax: read
Champagne or gin: champagne
Paranormal or Historical: Paranormal
Wonder Woman or Top Model: Wonder Woman
Favorite TV show: Supernatural
Hot or cold: Cold
POV: First
I’d die if I don’t have: my cell phone
Review or Not: Review
Please tell us a little about Demon Lore
Gin Crawford has enough problems dealing with her empath abilities. Finding out she’s the world’s newest demon-slayer is the last thing she needs. Unfortunately, when she slips on a mysterious bracelet she is given no other choice. On the plus side, her new gig comes with Tall, Dark and Handsome, a mage who may or may not have her best interests at heart. Thrust into a power-play between good and evil, Gin must choose a side before she becomes the next victim in the ongoing battle.
A peek between the pages of Demon Lore
“Let’s take you to a room.” Laura rises, pulling on my hand. “I think you’re in shock.”
Yeah, ya think? But the shock she thinks I’m in is not the only shock I’m experiencing. Not only am I dealing with the emotional trauma of seeing my friend shot and lying in a pool of his blood, but a million questions about the shooter rush through my mind. Who was that evil man? Why did he want Will’s bracelet? Really, what was so important about a bracelet? Couldn’t he have just broken into Will’s house and stolen the thing instead of shooting Will?
I rise to my feet, my head swimming, and put hand out to T for support. He grabs my palm and squeezes, and instantly I feel better. Laura grabs my other arm and together we walk down the hall toward an empty room.
Something rattles in my pocket, hitting against my work cell phone, a metallic clink. Odd, nothing but the phone should be in my pocket. I shake loose of Laura’s grip and stick my hand in my scrubs.
One phone. One…I pull the object out and stare. Gulping in a deep breath does nothing to calm my speeding heart. My stomach makes a pit and shoves my body into the gaping maw.
“What’s that?” Laura and T ask simultaneously.
Silver links shift, catching the light. Something’s carved into the metal, words, runes, a recipe for disaster, who the hell knows. I’m too busy staring at the thing as if it’s going to bite me. Which, judging from what happened here today, it very well might.
How the hell did it get into my pocket?
Will’s special bracelet lies in my palm, the links glowing under the florescent lights and the cold bite of metal against my skin makes me…happy.
Demon Lore can be found at:
Where to find Karilyn:
Website: www.karilynbentley.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KarilynBentleyAuthor
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/karilynbentley1
Blog: http://plottingprincesses.blogspot.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4051943.Karilyn_Bentley
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/karilynbentley
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/ba_0Rf
It was wonderful having you with us today. Please feel free to stop by anytime. Good Luck with Demon Lore and your 99 cent SALE!
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Posted in Authors' Secrets Blog and tagged Demon Lore, fantasy, Karilyn Bentley, Paranormal, Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy by Tena Stetler with 12 comments.
