Alien Gothic is live and available for purchase at Amazon, Apple, Google Play, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, and Smashwords/Draft2Digital for $2.99! Clicking on the book cover below will redirect you to the platform of your choice. It’s also available in paperback at Amazon for $8.99. (I’m working on expanding distribution for the paperback soon, so check this web site for updates!)
It’s Teaser Tuesday, and we’re officially 12 days away from the release of my YA sci-fi mystery (with lots of angst and romance), Alien Gothic! In anticipation, below are the first 1,000 (okay, it’s more like 1,200) words of Chapter 1:
I hate…
Well, to be honest, I hate a lot of things. I hate morning people. And mornings. And people. Although I have nothing against sports, really, I detest anything school spirit-related. I enjoy my science classes, but I’m not big on science fiction.
So, I consider it very unfortunate that, at 7:15 a.m.—a time when I’d rather walk barefoot on glass than interact with anyone—an alien is blocking the entrance to Pearl Falls High.
Not a real alien, of course. Andy the Alien, our school mascot. “Andy” is neon green, with wobbly antennae and large, teardrop-shaped black eyes. He or she saunters back and forth in front of the doors, shuffling a small stack of papers between gloved hands. Flyers, probably for something school spirit-related. Which means Andy is going to stop me and try to give me said flyer. Nope. No thank you.
Sure enough, as I dive for the door, a gangly green arm shoots in front of me, waving one of the flyers in my face. “We’re having a spirit booth this year at the Pearl Falls UFO Convention,” a muffled, male voice says, “the country’s fifth largest UFO con—”
“I know what it is.” The convention is the only reason anyone would ever bother visiting Pearl Falls, attracting so-called UFO enthusiasts (a.k.a. weirdos and conspiracy theorists) from all over the country. Sidestepping the arm, I force a smile. “And no, thanks.”
“Well, feel free to stop by the booth and…hey, wait a minute.” I’ve already yanked open the door, but for some reason, his words make me pause. “You’re Celeste, right? I heard about your grandpa. I’m really sorry.”
Jesus Christ. Does the whole town know Pappy died over the summer? Actually, given who my grandfather is—was—they probably do. “F*ck off,” I snap, going inside.
“Sor-ry,” he calls after me. “I was just trying to be nice!”
His apology is lost in a cacophony of slamming lockers, squealing sneakers, and people shouting to each other across the hall. I guess I thought the first day of senior year would feel different, somehow. But, except for getting accosted by an overeager space alien, everything feels pretty much the same old so far.
“Hey, Loony Lowe!” someone yells at me. The same old nickname. I ignore him, much more interested in the piece of paper taped to the front of my locker. It reads, in a bold, curvy font:
Show your school spirit at
PUFO CON,
the country’s fifth largest UFO convention!
Wear school colors, and stop by booth #67 to win prizes!
Beneath the text is a black-and-white photograph of a blurry, saucer-shaped object hovering over some mountains. Not just any photograph. The photograph.
The Lowe UFO.
“You working the convention this year, Loony?”
While I was reading, a small herd of sheep have flocked over to me, all pointing fingers and poorly suppressed giggles. “Working it?” a different sheep pipes up. “Her family practically runs it.”
I scowl. “Which one of you morons did this?” Smiles falter, and there are a lot of shaking heads and murmurs of “not me” as the herd disbands. When I tear the flyer down, it nearly rips in two. Crushing it up, I chuck it to the floor. It lands with a faint, unsatisfying whuff.
My backpack, on the other hand, makes a much more pleasing clang as I toss it to the bottom of the locker.
“Pardon me—”
“What?” Slamming the locker shut again, I whirl around. There’s a boy I don’t recognize beside me, his mouth hanging open. He is tall and lanky, his chin-length hair so blonde it almost shines silver. Light blue eyes blink at me.
“You, uh…dropped this.” When he holds up one of his pale, slender hands, it’s clutching the wrinkled flyer. A heavy-looking, metallic blue ring glints from his middle finger.
“Oh.” Unsure of what to do, I accept it from him. “Thanks, but I don’t actually need it. It’s trash.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I can recycle it for you, if you’d like.” Speaking of weirdos. This kid is attractive, in a rather pretty way. But he gives awkward a run for its money. Not to mention the navy slacks and white collared shirt. He’s dressed like a teacher.
“I got it,” I insist. “I shouldn’t have just thrown it on the floor, anyway. I was mad. Someone put it on my locker as a joke.”
“I see.” He nods, but his brow is wrinkled as if he doesn’t quite understand. Great. Now the weird new kid thinks I’m weird.
“Oh, Mich-ael!” a girl calls over. This voice, I’d recognize anywhere. Mallory Isaac—the Queen Sheep—clops over to us, her second-in-command, Ava Coolidge, in tow.
“One thing you’ll have to learn at Pearl Falls High, Michael,” Mallory continues, flashing her pearly whites, “is about the hierarchy. People like me, Ava—and you, of course—are at the top. The rest—” she makes sure to catch my gaze for this last bit— “are the bottom-dwellers.”
Guess I have a pretty good idea who taped that PUFO Con flyer to my locker. “One thing you’ll have to learn about this school, Michael.” Despite my flaming cheeks, the words somehow come out clipped and cool. “Some people, like us, are normal humans. While others are vapid bimbos.” I mirror Mallory’s bright smile.
Queenie stiffens, but her grin never falters. “Ava?” she says pointedly to her friend. “Don’t you have anything you want to say?”
Uncertainty flickers in Ava’s hazel eyes. Stepping toward me, she flips some of her honey blonde hair over her shoulder. “Michael is my guy. And you know what happens to people who try to take my things, leech.”
“I’m not your guy.” The new kid’s quick, curt reply takes me by surprise. From the stricken look on Ava’s face, it’s shocked her, too. Shaking his head, Michael walks away.
Ava, chin trembling, watches him go. For the briefest of moments—and I’m talking one billionth of one second brief—I almost feel bad for her. But hell hasn’t frozen over yet.
“Ugh. You chased him off.” A beat later, and the cheerleader is back to her normal self, glowering at me. “It’s like you’re hot guy repellant.”
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. “I didn’t chase him off. He left because he doesn’t like you.”
Both sheep gasp. “Take that back!” Ava cries. “Leech.”
“No way, you…stupid b*tch.”
“I said…” She takes another measured step toward me. Then another. And another. “Take. That. Back.” On the last word, she thrusts out a manicured hand, jabbing me in the shoulder. Her fingernails scrape over the thin material of my black dress.
“Don’t touch me.” To go with the dress, I’m wearing a pair of fingerless gloves, but underneath the black lace…God, I hate it when this happens. I don’t know how to describe it, except that it feels something like thousands of fire ants scuttling beneath my skin. Whatever you do, I remind myself, do not lose control.
“Girl fight!” There’s a shout. The sheep are back, forming a semicircle around us. Ava shoves me again, so hard this time I go stumbling into the locker behind me.
“Take it back,” she says, “and I won’t have to.”
“Oh, that is it.” Anger flares up inside me. The invisible fire ants swarm. I lunge for Ava, but she’s already grabbing a fistful of my hair. She pulls. Crying out, I clap a hand over hers, trying to unclasp her fingers. I’m touching her, but barely.
I hear the rattle of metal, a jarring sound in the abruptly silent corridor, before I realize what’s happened.
*****
Click on the book cover to preorder!
Description:
Celeste Lowe is no stranger to the strange. Living in tiny Pearl Falls, Oregon—infamous for PUFO Con, its annual UFO and sci-fi convention—it’s hard not to be. Plus, Celeste is rather strange herself: She can move objects without touching them. Mostly, she avoids using her unusual ability altogether, not even to retaliate against her arch nemesis, Ava Coolidge. Then comes the day she’s forced to defend not only herself, but Ava’s older brother, Dave, against two unlikely attackers.
As the son of the most powerful family in town, Dave represents everything Celeste hates. Or thought she hated. But the golden boy of Pearl Falls is nothing like she expects. When one of their attackers turns up dead, Dave’s determined to protect Celeste and her secret, lest anyone assume the worst. What’s more, the mysterious markings on the body mirror those seen in another unsolved murder: Dave’s own mother’s.
With Celeste, Dave, and their friends forming an unlikely alliance to solve these cold cases, she’s finding it harder and harder to keep her secret. And just as she’s opening her heart for the first time, she learns that Dave has a secret of his own.
Content Warning: Alien Gothic contains some descriptions of dead bodies. A side character has been accused of SA at his college, but, although he does verbally harass the main character, there is no on-the-page SA. One of the alien civilizations in the book was nearly wiped out in a genocide, but again, this is all background information.
Myself, my husband, and our daughter were sick for two weeks, including over Easter weekend. And in the back of my mind during that time, I’m like “Hmmm…yeah…my next novel is set to come out May 11, 2024. I should probably be, like, promoting it or something?”
Thus, I have emerged from the haze of the flu, or whatever the heck we had (it wasn’t COVID – we already did that, too, this winter) to promote my YA sci-fi mystery romance, Alien Gothic. Read on for the deets and book summary, but in short, I’m calling it Riverdale meets The X-Files. If you like the Lux series by Jennifer L. Armentrout, Roswell (yes, the late 90s WB show), or Animorphs, Alien Gothic might be up your alley.
If you’d like to apply for a review copy (mobi, epub, or pdf versions are available) of Alien Gothic, sign up here. You can also preorder it for $2.99 from all of the major e-book distributors (the link redirects you to the platform of your choice!).
I’ve been working on the story that eventually became Alien Gothic for…a long time. I’m not even sure I want to admit how long, lol. There’s that quote attributed to Albert Einstein, although who knows if he actually said it: “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” Well, I’ve certainly learned a lot about writing craft and publishing since I self-published my first novel, Reborn, a little over ten years ago (has it really been that long?!). So when I went back and dusted this idea off, I did expect to turn it into something better and more relevant.
Thinking about it tonight, the core premise of AG – a young woman who is special, and wishes she wasn’t – isn’t all that different from Reborn. (I’m not sure why I keep returning to this theme of the reluctant heroine in my writing, but we’ll table that discussion for another post.) Whereas Reborn was often very high stakes (averting the a p o c a l y p s e), much of AG is just a girl trying to solve a mystery when her best friend is wrongfully accused of murder.
Well, okay, there is the whole impending alien invasion, too.
I’ll talk more about the inspirations for the book (and maybe the title) in the weeks leading up to Alien Gothic‘s release on May 11. For now, I leave you with the synopsis. Happy almost Thursday, and happy reading!
*****
Celeste Lowe is no stranger to the strange. Living in tiny Pearl Falls, Oregon—infamous for PUFO Con, its annual UFO and sci-fi convention—it’s hard not to be. Plus, Celeste is rather strange herself: She can move objects without touching them. Mostly, she avoids using her unusual ability altogether, not even to retaliate against her arch nemesis, Ava Coolidge. Then comes the day she’s forced to defend not only herself, but Ava’s older brother, Dave, against two unlikely attackers.
As the son of the most powerful family in town, Dave represents everything Celeste hates. Or thought she hated. But the golden boy of Pearl Falls is nothing like she expects. When one of their attackers turns up dead, Dave’s determined to protect Celeste and her secret, lest anyone assume the worst. What’s more, the mysterious markings on the body mirror those seen in another unsolved murder: Dave’s own mother’s.
With Celeste, Dave, and their friends forming an unlikely alliance to solve these cold cases, she’s finding it harder and harder to keep her secret. And just as she’s opening her heart for the first time, she learns that Dave has a secret of his own.
Writing your first novel is…hard. Publishing your first novel, whether you decide to go the traditional or self-publishing route, is hard. But do you know what’s at least equally as hard, if not harder?
Writing the next book. And the next. And the next.
I forget who this quote is ascribed to, but I’ve heard it said you never learn how to write a book – you only learn how to write this book. I’ve been thinking about that quote lately, and how true it is. I published the first edition of Reborn back in November of 2013. That’s…eight years ago, lol. It started out as a pretty simple idea: a story about a college-aged woman who runs into a man from her past. A tall, dark, handsome, broody man who is probably not human. And who is either her long-lost love or sworn enemy. Or a little bit of both.
I wondered who these two characters were. I wanted to root around their brains, find out what drove them, what scared them, what – and who – they wanted more than anything.
Then, quite suddenly, I didn’t have just Siobhan and Jasper anymore, these two fascinating but deeply flawed people. I had a whole world in my head I wanted to explore, a world where Greek mythology met Greek life but was also equal parts 90s syndicated sci-fi show and teen drama. If you would have asked me to describe Reborn when it first came out, I might have told you it was like Stargate SG-1 meets Greek (you know, the ABC Family – now Freeform – show from the late 2000s?). Which is honestly kind of accurate, but also who the heck would want to read that (besides me)?
If you’re new to the Reborn series, it’s essentially a modern retelling of the Eros and Psyche myth. My Psyche is Siobhan Elliot, a college student at the fictional Thurston University in Shadesburg (a Pittsburgh-esque city). My Eros is Jasper Hart, her hot teaching assistant for her World Myths and Legends class. The first two books in the series, Reborn and Relapse, mostly focus on their complicated, at times downright toxic, relationship, as well as Siobhan’s efforts to navigate this new world she finds herself in.
Pretty quickly, my ideas for the series expanded beyond Siobhan and Jasper’s story. It spawned two novellas and the third installment, Reclaim, which focused on a different main character: Siobhan’s sorority sister, Carly Dragonjac. While Siobhan’s interests began to clash a lot with her sorority’s, I think of Carly as the Gamma Lambda Phi sister who stayed. As Carly doesn’t have much of a family left, the sorority didn’t just become her home-away-from-home, but her home, period. And her storyline let me indulge one of my other favorite archetypes, the wicked (and sexy) trickster god. The fourth book, Retribution, picks up where both Siobhan and Carly’s stories left off and gives them a (mostly) happy resolution.
Oh, right. Did I mention I have a book coming out?
Going back to that quote at the beginning of the post, it took me four years (Reclaim was published in 2017) to learn how to write Retribution. Not that I was writing it that entire time. I was not. I did put out a novella in 2019, but mostly the ideas for the fourth book were marinating. And, sure, then there was a global pandemic in which I was like…okay, I’m at home way more than usual, there is literally no excuse now not to finish this book…
Although the major ideas and revelations in the book never changed, I think it would have been a much different book if I had forced myself to write it four years ago. It was always going to be about how Siobhan and Jasper both heal from their past traumas, how they finally find their way back to an authentic, healthy version of their relationship. But I was also thinking about several larger themes while I was writing it. For one: What would happen if our world was infiltrated by an alien civilization? (Slight spoiler alert: probably nothing good.)
And, in this era of movements like #MeToo, where we’re starting, as a society, to confront egregious abuses of power and privilege, I was thinking a lot about what we’re “allowed” or expected to feel as women. So, power is definitely one of the major themes in Retribution – confronting power imbalances, confronting those who abuse their power and, most importantly, reclaiming that power.
Now, there are definitely many light-hearted, fun, silly, sexy, and romantic moments in Retribution. But it does get rather dark at times. Rest assured, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. In the meantime, I let my female characters experience the whole gamut of emotions: happiness, love, desire, fear, desperation, despair, regret, hate, resentment. Each main character has an inner darkness to confront. One learns to accept and live with it. One rises above it. One embraces it.
You can pre-order Retribution for Kindle on Amazon! It releases July 1, 2021. While you’re at it, add it on Goodreads. I am planning to give out a few review copies (.mobi or pdf only), so email me at slstacyauthor@gmail.com if you’re interested. Heidi’s gorgeous cover art and the book summary are below!
*****
Siobhan has returned from a seven-month stint in Pandora to a world that’s falling apart. Literally.
She doesn’t care, though, about the holes in the walls between the worlds. Or that, according to a prophecy, she’s the only one who can stop Eric and his halfling army from taking over Olympus. All Siobhan wants now is to get back to some semblance of normalcy in life, and in her relationship with Jasper.
Meanwhile, combat training is Carly’s new normal. But while Gamma Lambda Phi prepares for certain war, she grapples with missing memories and a forgotten power. And just when a possibility for new love presents itself, an old flame is rekindled.
Electra is the new general of Eric’s army, but it’s a tenuous command. She is caught between love and fear, sanity and madness, a desire for absolution and a thirst for vengeance…
In the game of the gods, anything goes, and nothing is what it seems. And in this conclusion to the Reborn saga, these three women will learn just how far they’re willing to go to win.
As I was giving this web site a much needed makeover, I realized I hadn’t written a post since…December 2018?! *Gasps*
And to be honest, I don’t really have the compulsion to blog as much as I used to (although I could probably do a bit better than once every ten months…). I mostly want this web site to be a place where people can find out more about the Reborn series, and what I’m currently working on, all in one place.
I do have a few more books planned for the Reborn series. The first wraps up Siobhan’s (and Carly’s) stories from the previous three books. I also have a partial draft of a stand-alone, Halloween novel that takes place in the Reborn world. I thought I’d be able to get that out for this Halloween, but I’m pushing it back again. (Sorry about that, but I had a wonderful, whirlwind of a summer getting married and moving!)
Also, I have a super secret WIP that has kind of taken precedence. I’ve been working on it on and off for a long time, and it just needs to get done. But I’m excited about it! There’s really no reason for it to be super secret, except that it’s not part of the Reborn series, and I’m not ready to talk much about it yet. I will say it’s a YA science fiction novel with some romance and a lot of drama. (Think Riverdale…with aliens. LOL.)
In any case, you know I like to share playlists of the songs I’m listening to while I’m working on a project. So, here you go…my super angsty, YA book playlist (with YouTube links).
In retrospect, there is a lot of Billie Eilish on here. I’m an adult.
Bad Guy – Billie Eilish
Bubblegum B*tch – Marina (formerly & The Diamonds)
Girls Like You – The Naked and Famous
Starry Eyed – Ellie Goulding
Lock You Up – Charli XCX
Shampain – Marina (side note: this is the best music video ever)
Bury A Friend – Billie Eilish
One Of A Kind – Placebo
Indie Rokkers – MGMT
Teen Idle – Marina
Emotional – Charli XCX
Ocean Eyes – Billie Eilish
E.T. – Katy Perry
Why hello there! It’s been a while (sorry about that)…
It’s been a pretty busy summer. A great summer, but a busy one.
Even so, I did make some time for writing! However, I stepped away from the Reborn series for the latter part of the summer to work on a different project. I spent much of the summer revamping an old young adult sci-fi (with some romance) novel I’d written awhile ago to get it ready for Pitch Wars.
What is Pitch Wars, you ask? You can get the deets on author Brenda Drake’s web site, but it’s basically a contest to try to win a mentor (usually an editor or previously published author) that will help you further revise and polish up your manuscript. Later in the fall, there’s an agent showcase where you can pitch your newly revised manuscript to agents.
To enter, you need a completed middle grade, young/new adult, or adult novel. You start by submitting a query letter and the first chapter of your manuscript to four mentors of your choosing. There are different mentors for each of the three categories, and before the submission period there’s a blog hop during which each mentor describes what genres they’re interested (or not interested) in mentoring.
I gave it a try this year and didn’t get a mentor…but that’s okay. I’m remaining optimistic. 😉 If anything, I got to see what the contest was all about and may try again next year with a different manuscript. There were around 3000 entries this year and about 180 mentors, I think (I don’t remember the exact stats), so competition was fierce. Plus, now I have a manuscript I can fiddle around with more. I may try to query agents and small publishers with this one first. If that doesn’t work out, I’ll consider self-publishing it.
But now I’ll get back to other writing projects/ideas as well. This summer I also joined a few professional organizations to up my networking game, including Romance Writers of America and Pennwriters. I’ve been meeting some great people through them so far. I have a few author friends I keep in touch with online, but it’s nice to have some real life author acquaintances, too. The writing life, as you can imagine, can be a pretty solitary existence, so it’s super important to take that extra step to network with other writers and potential readers.
I’ll have to check back in with my writing/publishing plans for fall because…I don’t know what they are yet.
It might be fun to post another short story for Halloween, though, like I did two years ago with the short that eventually become my novella Revenge. But we’ll see!
Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve probably heard that English musician/icon/Goblin King David Bowie passed away last week at age 69 from cancer. (As if that weren’t sad enough, Alan Rickman, the talented English actor who portrayed–among other memorable roles–misunderstood Potions professor Severus Snape in the Harry Potter franchise, also passed away. At age 69. From cancer.) I’m not usually one for getting emotional about “celebrity” deaths–then again, this is the first time that someone well-known I actually really liked has died. I mean, when you’ve spent hours upon hours listening to someone’s music, feeling feels (I’m sorry, I’m not good with the words today) and getting inspired, it’s hard not to feel sad. Bowie is an artist who seemed larger than life, but his death was sort of a weird reminder that he was mortal, just like the rest of us. He’s left quite an impact over the years, a legacy I’m sure will endure far beyond his death.
There’s been a huge outpouring of grief over his passing and support for his family over social media, which, of course, not just any normal person would get, and I hope it brings some comfort to Iman and his kids–to know how many lives he touched. As a side note, I’ve found it a little strange that the press keeps calling his death “sudden.” For his fans, yes, it was unexpected, and I suppose that’s what they mean. But perhaps not for his family. An 18-month long battle with cancer is long and emotionally draining for all involved–and yet Bowie didn’t let it get in the way of creativity, of getting out one last album for his fans. That album, Blackstar, has become his first number 1 selling album here in the U.S., which is awesome but at the same time a little depressing. He had many other albums that deserved to get that spot, but death has that kind of effect on art.
I can’t say that, without Bowie, there would be no Reborn series, but it would probably be a somewhat different series. His songs and various stage and film personas have definitely inspired me, and will continue to do so. So, as my own little tribute to the Thin White Duke, here is a top ten list of my favorite Bowie songs. This was hard to compile, since I like most of his work. But I made myself pick 10 that mean something personal to me, or that I just simply love. Also, except for number 10, this list doesn’t include some of his collaborations that I like (like Placebo’s Without You I’m Nothing and the PSB remix of Hallo Spaceboy). They may not necessarily be everybody’s favorites or critical darlings, but this is my blog and my list, dammit. And feel free to share your favorites in the comments!
10. Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy
This is probably a random one, but for me, this is the song that started it all. Before I heard this delightful Bing Crosby/Bowie duet on the radio circa Christmas 2005 (yes, the radio, this was pre-YouTube/Pandora/Spotify), all I had heard about David Bowie was that he was kind of weird. But then I heard this angelic voice singing with Bing and was surprised, in a good way, to learn who it was.
9. Oh! You Pretty Things
Probably one of the main reasons I like Bowie so much is due to my love for science fiction and fantasy. Much of his work, particularly in the 70s, incorporated sci-fi themes and characters. Oh! You Pretty Things has a sci-fi/dystopian flavor to it coupled with a lively tune, and the lyrics are pretty catchy, too. (Anna and Peter sing a duet of it in Relapse, which was also a bit of foreshadowing for things to come in future books).
8. Life on Mars?
I think this is probably one of his more famous tunes, although perhaps an acquired taste. The lyrics string together a series of seemingly disjointed scenes, but together they create a picture of a young person trying to make sense out of the world and images around them.
7. Moonage Daydream
Just like all of the songs that made this list, Moonage Daydream is one of my personal favorites–the only thing is, I’m not even sure why, haha. I just love this song.
6. Underground
I couldn’t write a Bowie top ten list without including a song from the Labyrinth soundtrack. Although there are lots of gems on there (Magic Dance, When the World Falls Down, Within You), I decided I had to go with Underground. At the risk of sounding pretentious, this song, from the soundtrack of an 80s children’s fantasy movie, sounds better than most of the songs they play on the radio today, lol.
5. Five Years
As an urban fantasy/paranormal romance writer, it takes me 200+ pages to create the world and story I envision in my head. It takes Bowie 3-5 minutes, in songs like Five Years (below), and Drive-In Saturday (an honorable mention).
4. Modern Love
80s Bowie likely had a bit more widespread appeal than Ziggy Stardust, and–although there was a disappointing lack of space/aliens–his hits during this phase of his career were fun and catchy. Modern Love is my second favorite thing (Labyrinth is the first) Bowie did in the 80s.
3. Rebel, Rebel
I think one of the reasons Bowie’s glam rock days have had such a lasting impact is that he showed people it’s okay to be “weird” (whatever that means to you). He was a voice for the outcasts of his generation, telling them “you’re not alone” in songs like Rock ‘n Roll Suicide. His most covered track (according to Wikipedia), Rebel, Rebel captures this spirit. Also note his fabulous getup in this video.
2. Starman
Okay, so clearly Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust/glam rock days are my favorite. So many great songs, especially Starman.
1. Heroes
And, finally, my number 1 favorite song of all time, out of all the songs and all the musicians. Well, it might be tied with Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody, but right now it has a slight edge. Heroes gives me chills and feels.
Happy Saturday! Today I’m happy to be a part of the cover reveal for The Awakened, a YA science fiction novel by Sara Elizabeth Santana. I “met” Sara through her blog, What A Nerd Girl Says, and I’m super excited for Sara and her new book! The official release date is December 1, 2015, so make sure to mark your calendars. It will be available in Kindle and paperback formats, and preorder will be available for the Kindle edition! I think the cover looks pretty fab:
Synopsis:
Zoey Valentine is concerned with two things: surviving the multitude of self-defense classes her dad makes her take and avoiding Ash Matthews.
That is, until the Z virus hits, wiping out a third of the population in a matter of weeks. If that weren’t frightening enough, the bodies of the victims disappear and suddenly reappear, awakened from their dead state. They’re faster, smarter, and they work together to get the one thing they crave, human flesh.
The United States is in a panic and then the government decides the unthinkable: to bomb every major city overrun with the awakened.
Now Zoey is on the run, with her dad and Ash, desperate to find a place of safety amongst the ruined remains of the country.
Add The Awakened on Goodreads.
***
Author Bio:
Sara Elizabeth Santana is a young adult and new adult fiction writer. She has worked as a smoothie artist, Disneyland cast member, restaurant supervisor, nanny, photographer, pizza delivery driver and barista but writing is what she loves most. Her first story was written at age nine. She runs her own nerd girl/book review blog, What A Nerd Girl Says. Her favorite books are a tie between Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by JK Rowling and Trickster’s Choice by Tamora Pierce. She lives in Southern California with her dad, five siblings and two dogs. Her debut novel is The Awakened.
You can also visit Sara at her website.
Who is the handsome, mysterious and elegant Jasper Hart?
Tonight, as another shameless plug for my romantic urban fantasy novel Reborn, I’m reposting this character profile for one of Siobhan’s love interest Jasper Hart. [To those of you who had the misfortune honor (sorry, I’m feelin’ silly tonight) of reading the earliest version of Reborn, Jasper has undergone a surname change. It’s still a clue as to his true identity, but I kinda, maybe changed the underlying mythology of the book…..]
Jasper Hart
From: Reborn (paranormal romance, urban fantasy)
Character Type: Antihero
Age: Really old, but he looks about late-twenties (of course)
Physical Description: Tall; shoulder-length, slightly wavy dark hair; midnight blue eyes; well-built with magnificent black wings
Species: Alien from a parallel universe
Occupation: PhD student in the history department; teaching assistant for World Myths and Legends
Relationship Status: Widower
Love interest: Siobhan
Goals: To win Siobhan’s trust and heart
Obstacles:
Strengths: Physical strength and power; seductive; persuasive
Flaws: Arrogant; chauvinistic
Enjoys:
Inspiration: Ville Valo, HIM frontman
“You belong to…”
You belong to me. I know that’s what he wants to say, but after a pause he corrects himself.
“We belong together. I love you. You believe me, don’t you?”
***
I am extra super excited for today’s interview because Heather is not just a fellow writer, but also my sorority sister and good friend! We are both scientists who love writing fiction. In her spare time Heather enjoys hiking, and she’s a Harry Potter and Dr. Who fan as well. Check out an excerpt from her novel GOD’S PLAY at the end of the interview – it definitely left me wanting to read more!
Her blog: Throw This Book At Me
Follow her on Twitter.
***
SL: When did you first start writing stories?
HD: For as long as I can remember. I’d buy cheap notebooks in elementary school and write down cheesy stories about magical animals — then I got a computer and upgraded to floppy disks. With the internet came fanfiction, writing contests, and better critiques. Taking rhetoric classes cleaned up my style. I don’t think I’ll ever be done reinventing my stories and the ways I write them. But the best way to start writing is to grab a dollar store notebook and see what happens.
SL: Who or what most inspires your writing?
HD: Extraordinary places and everyday life — the sense of wonder that this world exists is why I write fantasy. Because the manic energy in my brain refuses to let go of certain stories. It’s like I’ve got a book in my brain, and I’m constantly transcribing it — getting it as close to the one in my head as possible.
SL: On a similar note (pun intended), what music (genre, artist, etc.) most inspires your writing?
HD: I love folk and indie rock music. Sound tracks and classical music are great when I don’t want to hear a specific voice in my head, though.
SL: Which of your own stories is your favorite?
HD: The one I’m currently writing, of course.
SL: Who is your favorite author?
HD: I should never try to answer this question — I love too many books! I suppose the authors that influenced my early writing were Garth Nix, Robin McKinley, and JK Rowling (not so much her style but getting involved in the HP fan community). Currently? It’s everything from ancient history documentaries to Shakespeare to Monty Python. I have a very active GoodReads page.
SL: If you could be bffs (best friends forever) with any fictional character, who would it be?
HD: If I was one of the Doctor’s companions, I could theoretically travel to all the fantasy worlds I’ve read about and meet my favorite characters. But of course, traveling with Bill and Ted might be less dangerous. (I’m also under the opinion Hermione and I would get along famously.)
SL: What is your ultimate goal as a writer?
HD: To sell my work — and give a bit of it away for free. I want to share my stories in a way that ensures they’re read. Some money and success would be nice, too.
SL: If you could be anything you wanted (besides a writer lol), what would you be and why?
HD: I’m already a scientist, which is one of the best jobs ever because I get to discover new things in the world. I get paid to use my brain, read papers, listen to other people’s discoveries, and talk to people about their research. I also love to hike, so I’m always scraping out as much time as possible to travel and explore nature. (With an audiobook or two, of course!)
SL: Tell me about your current work-in-progress and what your plans are for it.
HD: I’m currently shopping GODS’ PLAY around — so it’s in limbo. Here’s the ‘official’ blurb and an excerpt:
***
With a touch of his hand, Toby can lift the magical protection shape-shifters use to disguise themselves as human. It’s an unusual skill for a hunter, and he prefers to kill monsters the old-fashioned way: with a blade. Because of his special skill, Toby suspects he may be a monster himself. His suspicions deepen when William, a jackal-headed shape-shifter, saves him from an ambush where Toby’s the only survivor. And Toby doubts William helped him for purely altruistic reasons. With his list of allies running thin, Toby must reconcile his hatred of shifters and the damning truth that one saved his life. It’ll take both of them to track down the monster who ordered the ambush.
***
My mother has this butterfly knife, silver ends capping a well-worn pearl enamel grip. She grew up learning its feel, doing tricks with it like some girls do with batons. She never uses it in the kitchen, never to cook, but when she’s thinking — her brow knit up and her eyes hard — the knife materializes in her hands, and she palms it like rosary beads before flicking it open. Some people bob their legs, pace the room, or pull their hair. My mum twirls her knife.
“You know why we train with knives?” my mum asks one day, when I cut my palm pulling the knife from a target. “Knives, not guns?”
I wipe the blood stains on my track pants, another smear to add to the collection. “Henry is teaching me how to shoot,” I remind her.
She holds up the hunting knife and turns it in her palm, the steel glinting in the afternoon sun. “Monsters have claws, they’re quiet, deadly. They get close to you, slit you open with their own nails. You need your knives because, when they pull their claws, you have yours. We can be just as silent and stealthy. With our claws, we’re deadly, too.”
She’s an artist when she flings the knife into the target, burying it to the hilt. Her eyes are sharper than that blade when she glances at me. “Being a hunter and being the hunted is a fine line.”
*****
That afternoon, sitting on the Northern line heading into town, my mother palms her knife. She doesn’t take it out of her pocket, not on the train, but she caresses the pearl handles, clutching it like her safety blanket. I tap my own pocket; my wooden handled knife presses against my leg. Sheathed in leather, it was a gift for my sixteenth birthday. I know its balance, the feel of it in my hand, how to make it stick in a mark. Every time the knife sinks into the wood or Styrofoam target, I feel like I’ve pierced it with a piece of myself; my will made into steel.
The train lurches to a halt, the conductor announces a stop, and I follow my mother onto the platform. We merge with the people streaming towards the WAY OUT signs and ride the escalator to the exit gates. Ascending a last set of grime-stained stairs, we reach the surface. In our travel across the city, the fog rolls off the river, bringing a premature darkness. We cross the street, but instead of going over the bridge with the crowd, we descend the sloping path leading below the bridge, down to the water’s edge. The fog squats on our heads, keeping out any last rays of sun. Not that we want light. It’s better for the predators — us — to lurk in shadows. When you’re on a hunt, the best cloak is a silent footstep and a steady heartbeat.
Three figures, two large and one small, emerge around the corner of the capillary sized lane. The short man is only a few years older than me and compactly built. “You’ll be the sister, Sharron, with her boy. That’s it then.”
The woman is the oldest of the three, but she’s tall, even if her face looks doughy and round. The other man with the dark eyes and salt-and-pepper hair I know: he’s my uncle Henry. He nods to my mum, but they don’t embrace, not on a business night like this. Henry pulls a folded piece of paper from his coat, flattening it with his palm. He hands it to my mother. I glance down at the address. It’s not far, maybe only a ten minute walk.
The other man pulls off a black back pack, unloading several more knives made for hunting. There are two guns, both with silencers. He hands one to the doughy-faced woman and keeps one for himself. I take a small pocket knife, slip it into my hand, and strap a Bowie knife at my waist; my hoodie covers it. My mother does the same, making sure her black trench hangs down over her sheath. Clad in black coats, denim, and trainers, we’re not a stealth squad, but we blend well as poor urbanites.
I mouth, How many? Henry holds up a single finger. Five to one: good odds.
Henry takes the lead, and my mother follows him. The other boy and I go next, and the big woman takes the rear. I pull my black baseball cap lower on my head, tugging the sweater’s hood over top. The other man tilts his head, the black hood obscuring his features and making him look like a sinister wizard. I pad over the concrete, light on my feet, my treads soft and soundless. I palm the pocket knife, planning to throw it first before I pull either of the larger blades.
We stick close to the river, keeping it on our left. I step over a puddle, not wanting to leave tracks. My mother’s black hat bobs in front of me. She’s tucked her usual ginger pony tail into it, not wanting to be a neon sign in the washed-out twilight. We approach a warehouse, fronted by a furniture store. A sign in neon green reads END OF SUMMER CLEARANCE! BEST DEALS, 50% OFF BEDS, DESKS, SOFAS! 70% OFF LAWN FURNITURE! Two of the windows are boarded up, and a third one is cracked, glass spider-webbing out from the impact point. In the final display, a metal patio table with black lattice work is already rusted around the edge.
Henry circles around back, and at the side entrance, he takes out a key and swipes through the security code. The pad flashes red. Henry hits some numbers, and it turns green. He presses on the handle, and we queue up behind him. My mother takes out her knife in one hand, a flashlight in the other. Henry darts in, and my mother and the other man rush in after, weapons raised. I flick my knife out, ready to throw. The woman covers the rear, shutting the door quietly behind us. We fan in a semi-circle, pressing into the warehouse; it’s dank, carpet muffles our steps, and the only sound is a pair of rats padding away from the flashlight beam.
Empty. I mouth the word to my mum. She shakes her head, twirling the knife in her left hand, keeping the flashlight steady in her right. The other man pulls out his flashlight, scanning the other side of the wall. We don’t want to turn on the store lights and get a call put out on us; the cops consider this breaking and entering, even if there’s nothing worth stealing. I grab my light, shining it around, checking inside of the wardrobes near me.
“Bad lead,” the man says. I meet his eyes and nod. We were both hoping for a kill, the first since winter. It’s been a slow year for hunting monsters.
Motioning with the barrel of her gun, the tall woman takes the man and goes to search the back. My mother shakes her head, but she’s examining the beds with a sharp gaze worthy of Sherlock Holmes. Henry and I fan out around her, and I check behind a stack of mattresses double my height. My mum continues to comb through the place with practiced eyes. “No sign of habitation. Bad tip, brother.”
Henry shakes his head, still scanning with his flashlight. He turns to her and mouths one word. Father. My mum frowns, the shadowed creases in her forehead half-lit by the dual beams. Henry treads without so much as a shoe squeak towards the front of the store; mum and I sweep out, moving like a single pair of headlights.
A door shuts. I jerk my head up. A thump from the back of the warehouse, and something crashes over. The woman shouts. There’s a gun shot.
There’s more than one.
***
Thanks again to Heather for playing and to all of you for checking in with us! Until next time, check out my past interviews here!
slstacy.com 