Interview with Shea Berkley

Welcome back everyone. This week we're chatting with Shea Berkly, author of The Marked Son. Don't forget to leave a comment for your chance to win a copy of this great book! 





Shea, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself?

·         Well, I’m a writer. That’s kind of obvious, though, huh?

·         I like to brush my teeth. Nothing says hello better than minty fresh breath.

·         I like to be active. I’m slightly competitive. Okay… maybe slightly isn’t the correct word. I’m horrifyingly competitive. I like winning. I’m trying to be an adult about losing, so I stopped throwing temper tantrums last week. Seriously. It was time to let go of the behavior and move on in life. Plus my friends started chucking random household items at me. Hello! It’s only dodge ball when a ball is involved.

·         I’m an avid reader (all kinds of books).

·         Avid movie watcher (all kinds of movies).

·         Avid people watcher—in a non-creepy way (umm, at least I hope so).

·         I ride horses (used to train them).

·         I hate fish (as pets) but I love to eat fish (except salmon… salmon is gross, seriously).

·         I can eat pizza every day of the week and not get tired of it.

·         I believe chocolate should be part of the food pyramid (it is for me) and I drink far more cola (Coca Cola... not Pepsi... Coca Cola) than is reasonably healthy.

·         I usually take two showers a day (now to some that may seem extreme, but when I’m kickboxing, I sweat like a dude.

·         I’ve recently decided to train to be a ninja (cross my heart, I’m not messing around... well, most of the time I’m not).

Speed Answer Challenge:

LOL! Speed answer. That’s funny. I don’t do speed. Only in a small, standard European car found in movies like The Italian Job and Bourne Identity, but then I usually get pulled over by cops who are profiling innocent citizens who like to drive small, standard European cars ever-so-slightly over the speed limit. Never had a ticket, though. Boo-ya!

*Speeding is against the law and can lead to serious injury. I am in no way encouraging the dangerous, unlawful activity. I am personally trying to control said dangerous and unlawful activity by means of driving only an automatic. (so not fun, by the way)

(ahem) I will try my best to be as pithy as possible. I’m not kidding. I will try, but that doesn’t mean it will happen.

Favorite Band:

My favorite band changes constantly. It’s a mood thing. Right now, it’s NeedtoBreathe. Tomorrow it may very well be Red or Three Doors Down, or The Band Perry.

Make or Bake:

I’m not gonna lie. At first I didn’t understand what you meant and then it hit me. (the lightbulb over my head may be a little dim, but it still works) You’re talking crafts versus food. If anything is up against food, food usually wins. Bake, baby.

Coffee or Kool-Aid:

This is tricky. I love coffee, but it has to be the kind that has all that unhealthy junk in it that makes it palatable. Kool-aid is kinda my summer go to drink only if I want to chug something cold. So I’d have to say Coca Cola. Not Pepsi. Coca Cola. I know it wasn’t an option, but I’m being truthful here.

Favorite Place you Lived:

(eeek) I’ve lived all over the place and I will surely insult one of my friends if I don’t pick where they live. (waving you close to whisper) I miss San Antonio the most, in the I’m-not-picking-favorites sort of way.

Seriously, that was not a pick! I refuse to pick. Grrr.

Favorite Movie:

(hits head on desk) Why are you torturing me? It’s so hard to pick just one. (I know you can’t hear me, but there’s an impressive whine to my voice that’s Oscar worthy… or at the very least worth an Emmy) Okay, okay, okay. Gladiator. It’s my go to movie when I can’t find a movie I want to watch.

Goat or Lion:

Seriously? Baby goats=adorable. Grown goats=nasty/smelly/nuisances. But then I’m not too keen on being mauled by a lion so the goat definitely comes out the winner in this contest.

Walk or Bike:

Have you sat on a bike seat for more than 30 minutes? I can’t feel my hinny after 15. Pure torture. Walking is far more fun. You can stroll, trot, run, skip, sashay… the variety biped motion gives is all kinds of awesomeness when it’s not attached to pedals and wheels. Trust me on this one.

Tell us a bit about your book, The Marked Son.

Seventeen‐year‐old Dylan Kennedy always knew something was different about him, but until his mother abandoned him in the middle of Oregon with grandparents he’s never met, he had no idea what. 

When Dylan sees a girl in white in the woods behind his grandparents’ farm, he knows he’s seen her before…in his dreams. He’s felt her fear-- Heard her insistence that only he can save her world from an evil lord who uses magic and fear to feed his greed for power.

Unable to shake the unearthly pull to Kera, Dylan takes her hand. Either he’s completely insane or he’s about to have the adventure of his life, because where they’re going is full of creatures he’s only read about in horror stories. Worse, the human blood in his veins has Dylan marked for death…

Most people who read The Marked Son say the story is unique and has a lot of surprising twists and turns they never saw coming. It’s filled with magic, action, humor, romance, monsters and mayhem. Honestly, it’s just a fun, adventurous read that most anyone who loves to get lost in a fantastical story will love.

What inspired this story?

My inspiration is that I have a teenage boy living inside me. (giggle, snort) Naw, that’s not it.

My kids inspired me to write The Marked Son. I thought a story they could all read would keep them out of trouble. Sadly, they’re fast readers and quickly got back to their wicked ways.

*Any mention of my children being anything other than the literate, angelic, caring, well-behaved creatures that they are is the sole imagination of this author and not to be believed. They’re only wicked on Wednesdays. I don’t know why. They just are.

Actually, Dylan is a combination of a lot of guys I used to hang out with when I was growing up, so there isn’t one guy who can claim him. I wanted to create a rounded guy, one who was real, not a caricature of a guy. Dylan feels deeply, longs for acceptance, knows how to fight for what he wants and accepts that he might get hurt to reach his goals, but that’s okay because he knows from experience that nothing good ever comes without a sacrifice.

I did want to make him feel isolated without actually being completely alone and that meant giving him a mother who is less than motherly. But he still loves her, so I was tapping into the need we all have for family and acceptance. I also wanted to show that everyone has a purpose, and his is far more complex than what he ever dreamed possible. Honestly, Dylan is a complex guy, which believe it or not, most males are. They just hide behind their grunts and disgusting habits so no one can’t see they have a gooey center.

How did your characters find you?  

Huh. (thinks deeply… shrugs) I wish I knew. I start writing and they show up. Weird, but there it is.

How long have you been with your agent?

I’m not sure. No one told me I was supposed to keep track. More than two years. I think. Yeah, definitely more than two years, but less than ten.

What can you tell us about your next book?

My next book in the series is the continuation of Dylan and Kera’s story and the fight to free the Land of Teag. All sorts of craziness ensues and people get into major trouble. Some die. Some live. Some are happy. Some are miserable. I try to hit all the oohs and aahs that make reading an adventure.

My latest book is an Epic Fantasy called Torrein: Age of Fear which is available on Amazon.

What if the only hope of saving a magical world depended on an ordinary boy?

Taelyon is a land divided; its mortals distrust those different than them; its wizards live indifferent to the suffering of others to see the danger on their doorstep.  The battle for dominance is never far off, and death is a daily fear provoked by King Hcaon the Younger's inability to lead.

Torrein’s parents are powerful wizards, and Torrein's greatest fear is that he'll be denied the gift of magic.  When magic is denied him, he's chased from his own village by those he used to call friends.  Alone and wandering in a world he doesn't know, Torrein doesn't understand that his destiny is far greater than any he could have achieved if magic had been granted him. What plagues him is a desire he can't have - to be with his family and live his life in peace. 

Peace is not easily found in Taelyon.  The destiny Torrein fights lies in a prophecy soaked in blood.  To claim his rightful power, he must calm his fears and face those who want him and his people dead.  Everyone has been blinded to the real evil in their midst, and it will be a fight till the end of the age to reclaim Taelyon's freedom.  Though it's hard for him to accept, it’s up to Torrein to protect those who have been deceived, and to make sure the evil in their midst doesn't destroy them all. 

Where can readers purchase your book?

Get your copy of The Marked Son at: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books on Board | Diesel | Powell's | BAM | The Book Depository

May we read an excerpt from the book and can you provide it here?

The Marked Son by Shea Berkley

Nothing feels better than touching Kera. I hold her close, feeling her heart beat behind her ribs. The heat of her hands on my chest is impossible to ignore as I kiss her, teasing her lips, and ultimately torturing myself until my control is almost gone. I pull away, putting my forehead to hers, and silently count to ten. Counting to a hundred wouldn’t help. Holding her intensifies my feelings of recklessness.

I can’t let go.

I pick her up. You’d think her dress, with its yards of material would be a problem, but it isn’t. Not for her. She wraps her legs around my waist and rakes her hands through my hair. I place my head on her chest and close my eyes. The rapid beat of her heart matches my own. The scent that engulfs her is as heady as the feel of her in my arms.

“You smell like summer and—” I search for the word that describes the scent pulsing under her skin. It teases me with every breath and touch. Naming it is driving me insane. It’s one I haven’t smelled on her before, yet it’s a scent that’s all too familiar to me, like summer and… “—sadness.”

She captures my lips with hers and slowly slides down my body until her feet touch the floor. Our kiss deepens, her embrace turns desperate. Her kiss fills with misery. The room turns hot, too claustrophobic. I can’t think. I try pushing her away, but she clings to me. Her breathing quickens, and she shivers within my arms. I sense real fear in her. Though she protests, I finally manage to step free. One, two, three steps back, separate but still connected. I can’t stop staring at her, wanting her. She’s like…

A drug.

Where can your readers connect with you on the web?

I’m not really a media junkie, but I make an effort to get online every day at one of the following places: Facebook / SheaBerkley.com / Goodreads / Twitter / Ruby-slippered Sisterhood

Interview with Roxy Burroughs, Author of A Stranger's Kiss

This week's interview with Roxy Burroughs. After you read the interview, be sure to check out how you can win the copy of her book, A Stranger's Kiss that she's giving away!

Roxy, why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself?

I started out as an actress. You may have even seen me in a couple of roles on TV. I'll include a link to a clip at the end, just so you can enjoy my 80s perm.

From there I started writing plays, mostly interactive murder mysteries for dinner theater. Then I graduated into novel writing.

I still act, on occasion. I still write plays. But, mostly, I sit in my office typing stories. Relaxing for me is a trip to the mountains with my husband, a bubble bath, and a great book.

Speed Answer Challenge:

Favorite Ice Cream: Butter Pecan. It was my dad’s favorite. And since he’s no longer here to enjoy it (God, I loved that guy), I order it now in his honor.

What was the last thing you baked? A lemon meringue pie for my father-in-law. My husband is SO jealous.

Lover or a Fighter: A lover, baby. All the way.

Top Place to Visit on Your Bucket List: New England, in a heartbeat. I’ve been through Massachusetts and Pennsylvania. Glorious. And old England. My mother was born in Cornwall, I’m a big fan of the Brontes, and would kill (pun intended) to do the Jack the Ripper tour.

Favorite Author: Oh, man. So many. My favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird. Favorite author? A tossup between J. R. Ward and Joy Fielding. Holy two ends of the spectrum, Batman! I’ve read everything those ladies have written.

Nerd or Cheerleader: Total Nerd. At least, I’d thought so when I was in high school. Turned out when I met up with some classmates years after, I discovered I was considered cool because I was in all the plays and musicals. Who knew? I was “Glee” chic before my time.

Drive or Fly: I like being chauffeured. Merging and backing up are not my strong points. If we drive, my husband is behind the wheel so I can daydream. Love to fly! I chill, I doze, I read. Heaven.

Tell us a bit about your book, A Stranger’s Kiss.

It's a romantic suspense with a touch of the paranormal. My hero, Sam Hutchinson, is devastated by the murder of his son. Hoping to gain closure by learning more about the suspected killer, Sam traces the murderer's roots to Bandit Creek, Montana.

There, against a serene mountain backdrop, he finds Amy Tesher. Lies are Amy's camouflage, all fabricated to escape the secrets of her past. And to protect her eleven-year-old daughter, Renee, who is able to communicate with Sam's ghostly son.

Unaware of Sam's real mission, Amy takes him into her boarding house. Just as the serial killer returns, to claim Amy…and her daughter.

What inspired this story?

A Stranger’s Kiss is my stand-alone sequel to A Stanger’s Touch. The two stories run parallel so there's no need to read one to enjoy the other.

Sam is briefly mentioned in A Stranger's Touch. I wanted to pair him with someone equally damaged but dealing with it for the sake of her daughter.

How do you interact with your characters?

I spend a lot of time thinking about my story before I ever start writing. As I reflect on my characters, I get ideas about what they might do in a given situation. Usually, these notions come to me in the middle of the night, so I have a pen and notebook by the bed. I think that's because it's a subconscious process, at least for me. Once I'm distanced from the noise of the day—ringing telephones and countless errands to run—I can listen to the characters whispering their story in my ear.

                               

How long have you been in the publishing industry? What’s your publishing story?

I was spoiled. I published the first book I ever wrote. It's about the ghosts (of course) that inhabit Heritage Park, a Calgary tourist attraction. From there, I wrote an award-winning short story that appeared in an anthology. Every play I've ever penned has been produced and I've now ventured forth with the fantastic group of writers who make up the Bandit Creek Books team.

What can you tell us about your next book?

I have yet another sequel planned for my "Strangers" line. And an urban fantasy coming soon, called Wolfen Time. I also have a short story available called Letting Go, about how a chance encounter helps a woman deal with the loss of her father.

Where can readers purchase your book?  

You can find all my titles on my Author Pages at Amazon and Smashwords.

May we read an excerpt from the book and can you provide it here?

You certainly may! The following scene is the first time Amy and Sam meet.

As Amy opened the front door, a chill wrapped around her, as if a blast of arctic wind had swooped in over the mountains. There, right outside her house, stood a man, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against a parked car.

Watching her.

Amy took a breath, willing her heart to pound a steady beat. Finding anyone on her doorstep, would have been a shock. She was a stranger here, hadn't been back to the secluded house in years. She had no friends in these parts, and now, no relatives. But this man was as out of place as any could be. Starting with the vehicle on which he was perched.

If the car was his, it was much too expensive for the neighborhood, and too posh for a mountain trek. Amy wasn't an expert on makes and models but the jaguar on the hood of the black sedan told her all she needed to know. And the flashy ride didn't match the man's attire. A nice enough charcoal suit, but the rumpled fabric shied away from his slim frame, as if he'd slept in a larger man's clothes.

A tangle of brown hair shadowed his eyes, dark stubble inked his jaw. He didn't look familiar, but over the years she'd learned to be cautious. Her mother had cultivated dangerous friends in this town.

Amy locked the door behind her, keys in her fist, the longest one poking out between her index and middle fingers, just how her aunt in Detroit had taught her. Ready for anything.

She marched down the front walk, her runners chomping at the fallen leaves in her path. As she approached, the man straightened and used his fingers to comb the hair from his eyes.

"Something I can do for you, sir?"

Now that she was closer, Amy took a good look at her visitor, opening the mental filing cabinet of her memories and pouring over the images she kept of her mother's Bandit Creek associates.

Jag Man was six feet or so, and on the older side of thirty. Other than his cheekbones, made prominent by the thinness of his face, his most noticeable feature was a pair of hazel eyes, more green than brown. One was highlighted by a fine scar that sliced through his brow. That and the five-o'clock shadow gave him an outdoorsy ruggedness. In spite of the unkempt packaging, he was a good-looking man. One she knew she hadn't met before.

But good looks didn't mean a good soul. Amy kept her keys ready in her fist.

"I need a place to stay." The voice came out in a low baritone – clear, melodic, and with complete confidence. The tone of a man used to getting his way.

Amy wondered who'd pointed him in her direction. No one local. Her grandmother had retired from the bed and breakfast business a few years before she died. Amy may not have visited, but she'd exchanged emails almost daily with her Nan to keep up with life at the old house – her grandmother's socializing, gardening, even what she had for lunch. If only Nan had mentioned she was ailing, Amy would have been on the next plane. But her grandmother was feisty and independent to the end. She died obliged to no one, in her own bed, surrounded by her collection of photographs and antiques, just the way she wanted it.

"Mrs. Turnbull runs a nice Bed and Breakfast further down the road–"

"Isn't this a B&B?" Now he was smiling, pouring on the charm like a salesman. Maybe he was one. At a car lot. That would explain the Jag.

"It used to be." Amy turned to view the wooden sign on the lawn, proclaiming as much, though the lettering had seen better days. Something else to fix. "We're closed for renovations."

The man drew a wallet from his back pocket. "I can pay cash," he told her, opening it. "Three hundred a night."

Amy shook her head, wondering what her grandmother would say about turning down good money. She knew what Nan had charged for a room, even one with a private bath, and it sure as hell wasn't that much.

The man thumbed through the bills. "Four hundred."

Did he expect caviar on his morning bagel? Strike the salesman angle. This guy definitely wasn't one. No haggling.

"Look, I'll give you three grand, up front, for the week. Whether I stay for the duration or not."

A giddy squeak welled up in Amy's throat. That was more money than she'd ever seen at one time. Cash like that could really help fix up the old house, pay off some bills she still owed in Detroit, and buy new books and clothes for Renee. Heck, even a few things for herself. With some left over for a rainy day. But she wasn't about to shelter a man she didn't know.

"Sorry."

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a gold case. "Here's my business card. Call my office. Check me out."

She'd already checked him out. Though on the lean side, she sensed a nice build. Maybe he'd been ill. Maybe his tailor had gone on vacation. Maybe she needed to focus on her problems and stop imagining what he looked like without that bulky suit.

"Go ahead. Take it."

Amy snapped back to attention, warmth creeping into her cheeks. The man was still offering his card.

She reached for it, her hand so close to his she felt the heat radiating from him, the pent-up energy. Something wasn't right with this guy. She'd lived by her wits long enough to trust her instincts and they were chattering to her now like a flock of magpies in the presence of a hungry hawk.

She took the card, anyway. Not that it meant much. She could print up a bunch of her own, declaring herself to be Michelle Obama, if she chose. And his office? The number could belong to his great aunt Sophie, coached to say whatever he wanted. Still, it was easier to agree. The sooner he was on his way, the sooner she could get back to work. She glanced at her watch. The hardware store, and the call, would have to wait until tomorrow.

"I'll phone in the morning. Have a good evening." She turned toward the house and made her way up the walk, examining the card.

Sam Hutchinson. Barrister.

She read the address. So Jag Man was a Calgary lawyer. At least now she knew how he got the car. But what was the guy doing here this time of year? It wasn't exactly the height of tourist season. Many of the family-run businesses were shut down for the winter.

"Excuse me, Miss."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Yes, Mr. Hutchinson?"

The man's smile was designed to thaw the coldest jury during a January ice storm. "I didn't get your name."

Because she hadn't given it. But what would it hurt? It wasn't her real one. "Tesher. Amy Tesher."

"Thanks, Ms. Tesher." The car lights flashed as he made his way around to the driver's side. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

Sam knew he'd outstayed his welcome. When the woman turned back to him, she'd stepped forward, looking like she might refuse another visit. So he'd jumped in the car and sped off.

No wasn't an option.

He parked down another dirt road under a dead tree, hoping police didn't patrol the area. His presence would be difficult to explain, impossible to justify.

He reached over to the passenger seat, snapped opened the locks on his briefcase, and shuffled through the newspaper clippings. The first dated back fifteen years, articles from the old Cincinnati Post, the Atlanta Constitution, the Toronto Star, and Saskatoon's Star Phoenix.

All involved children. All of them dead. Boys, mostly, but with a few girls sprinkled in here and there. Fresh faces looked out at him, sadness behind their eyes, as if they'd known their fate before it happened.

He came to the most recent clippings last, Calgary newspapers documenting the latest victim.

Tommy.

Sam caressed the boy's picture, as if he could tousle the brown locks one more time. Of course, the black and white photo didn't show the color of Tommy's hair. It didn't reveal the freckles on his nose, or the multi-colored braces he wore to straighten a crooked incisor.

It didn't capture Tommy's screams, either. Or show how he'd suffered before his death.

Sam rested his head against the high seatback and closed his eyes, waiting for the queasiness to pass. He tried to remember the last time he'd eaten. And couldn't. Not that it mattered. He had more important things to do.

He pulled the lapels of his suit jacket around his neck and grabbed the scotch he'd purchased that afternoon. He ripped off the cap, keeping the bottle in its brown paper bag. No sense drawing more attention to himself.

The heady scent of scotch filled his car, oaky and rich. He took a swig, gritting his teeth as the amber liquid burned its way down his gullet. Sam hated the taste. But after a few more gulps, he wouldn't notice. The scotch would have done its job.

He shivered. The nights were getting cooler. At least the alcohol would keep him warm. Until he could convince Amy Tesher to open her house to him.

The first step in his plan.

Where can your readers connect with you on the web?

On Twitter, Facebook, and at my Website. And here's that link to the TV clip. Enjoy.

A big thanks to Roxy for letting us interview her. If you'd like to hear more from her, tune into our Blog Talk Radio Show this Wednesday at 3:30 PST when we interview her live! To set a reminder for the show click here.

And now for the giveaway! Please leave a comment with your email address to enter for a chance to win. It's as easy as that!

Interview with Todd Keisling

This week we're giving away 5 books. That's right, FIVE! You can find out how to win at the end of this interview.

Hello, Todd, thanks for stopping by PYN. I see that you like writing in different genres. Which one do you think is your favorite?

I don't think I have a particular favorite. I started out writing horror stories when I was a teen, but I've dabbled in thrillers and pseudo-literary stories since college. These days I try to write stories that span multiple genres so there's always a little something for everyone no matter what their tastes are. I don't want to be known as a writer who can only write one type of story. I want to write them all.

I love this: "Mediocrity is a man-made disease. Affliction is a choice." And it seems to be a theme for you. How does this push you to be better?

I suppose it would be a theme for me, in some respect. When I wrote it, it was meant to underline a central idea in the story that people choose their own way in life, often to their detriment, and it's usually in a passive manner. In A Life Transparent (or ALT), there are repercussions for not living up to one's potential, such as permanent obscurity.

I try to live by it, taking it as the warning it's meant to be. I can choose to live up to my capabilities, or I can choose to take a passive role in my own life. The danger of taking an easier road is the obscurity referenced in the book. I'd rather be remembered for something.

What inspired this story?

I was 23 at the time, just out of college and working at a dead-end job. One day I went to work and no one spoke to me, sparking a simple thought: I could disappear and no one would notice. As I explored that idea, I uncovered some uncomfortable truths about myself. I wasn't happy at the time. I felt as though I'd squandered my potential, sacrificing my dreams for the sake of a steady paycheck. These truths surfaced in the narrative, reflected by the protagonist, Donovan Candle.

My favorite review so far was this: "I wanted a book that was 'out of the box' so to speak and I really got it!! This book is part scary,part sci-fi and part fantasy all rolled into one." How does that make you feel and is that what you were aiming for?

Honestly, when I wrote the book, I just wanted to see where the story would go. I knew it might have some supernatural elements, but I didn't expect it to wear so many different hats. What the story became helped shape my outlook on genres in general, and I think the review reflects this.

That being said, having a book that fits so many different categories does make it difficult to promote--ALT is certainly a niche book--but it also caters to many different readers. If a person likes thrillers, I can say "Yes, you'd like this," and the same applies if a person likes horror or paranormal fiction. Calling it sci-fi or fantasy is a stretch, but I can see where people might get the distinction. I do play around with alternate dimensions and supernatural creatures, after all.

What inspired these characters?

The characters in the story were a mixture of different things, borrowing from my own psyche, characteristics of people I’ve known, and basic archetypes I studied in school.

For example, the story's protagonist, Donovan Candle, is rooted in my own psyche. As I mentioned above, he's a projection of myself, but aged about ten years, about 30 lbs. heavier. He's an honest guy, tries to play by the rules, and deals with a lot of inner turmoil. He is your typical tortured writer trying to make it in a corporate environment. Naturally, a lot of my own insecurities manifest in his character - from his fear of not being able to provide for his family, to his fear of being unhappy. His transparent affliction--a thing called the "flickering"--stems from my fear of anonymity. That I may live and die without leaving some sort of legacy terrifies me. His devotion to his dreams is matched only by the devotion he holds for his wife.

I could spend a lot of time discussing the other characters, especially the villains, but I’d rather let new readers discover them on their own.

What was your favorite part of the research to create this book?

A couple of anecdotes come to mind:

1) In the early stages of the first draft, I polled co-workers about what they considered to be the most boring, mundane things in life. The results were varied, from infomercials to reality television to sales calls and listening to NPR. I had a lot of fun with it, and some of them (the calls and talk radio) made it into the story.

2) During revisions for the second edition, my editor asked if I’d ever fired a gun (I haven’t). She insisted that I do so, but it wasn’t something I could easily arrange, and we were up against a deadline. So I called my best friend who happens to be a card-carrying member of the NRA, and we spent about two hours on the phone discussing trajectory, recoil, how a bullet would react upon collision with solid concrete, and so on. The conversation accounted for about three sentences in the final draft, but it was a lot of fun learning about the intricacies of gunfire. I felt like a part of the Warren Commission.

So you’re writing Book 2. Is there anything you can tell us without giving away the plot? A teaser?

The second book is titled THE LIMINAL MAN. There isn’t much I can give away without spoiling the first book for readers. It takes place about a  year after the events of ALT and involves a growing number of disappearances across the city. Length-wise, it’s about twice the length of the first book. I think it’s a much darker, violent, heavier story, and it deals with themes of doubt, fear, and redemption.

I’m currently working with my editor on the third draft, and I expect one more draft before it’s ready for publication. We’re hoping to have it ready for print sometime this Fall.

Where can readers purchase your book?

A LIFE TRANSPARENT is available at all major retailers in hardcover, paperback, and digital formats:

Amazon B&N Smashwords Powell's

May we read an excerpt from the book?

Sure thing:

Donovan raised the gun and peered around the corner of the shack toward the grove of trees. What he saw made a pit open in his stomach and all his insides fall into his feet.

The tiny, white things marched across the grass, a veritable army of them numbering in the thousands. They looked harmless while standing on the shoulders of others; now, as they advanced, he found their mass intimidating. There was more movement in his peripheral vision. A small wave of the little bastards crashed over the fountain, their pudgy bodies sprawling across the walkway. Their backward voices meshed into a constant, buzzing drone as they advanced.

He looked at the 9mm, then back at the swarming, white legion.

One of the things saw him. It screeched and pointed. The others cheered.

“I’m not seeing this.” His declaration fell deaf against their wall of reversed language. He tried to look away, but found he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

The throng of miniature albino soldiers marched onward. When they reached the plaza’s perimeter, Donovan turned and ran, managing only a few strides before he realized he was surrounded. The Lilliputian monsters streamed from all corners, over the grass, the benches, even on the limbs of trees. He was lost in the Monochrome wilderness, and had stumbled into a hive.

Donovan stepped back against the wall of the shack and raised the pistol. I’m going to die here, he thought. They’re going to drag me down and tear me to pieces.

The creatures stopped a few feet away. They chattered in unison, looking up at him from a sea of black, empty eyes.

“It is a shame Mr. Guffin could not follow instructions.”

The creatures fell silent as Aleister Dullington’s voice boomed overhead. Donovan felt the ground vibrate with each pronounced syllable. On the phone, Dullington was soft spoken, disarming. In the Monochrome, his voice thundered with authority, asserting one immutable fact: this was his kingdom, and here he was God.

Where can your readers connect with you on the web?

My website and blog are here: www.toddkeisling.com

I also frequent a social network or two:

Facebook Twitter Goodreads

A big thanks to Todd for letting us interview him. If you'd like to hear more, we'll be interviewing him live this Wednesday on our Blog Talk Radio show at 3:30 PST. To set a reminder for the show click here. To enter for a chance to win a copy of A Life Transparent please leave a comment along with your email adress.

PYN Review of Berinn Rae's Nightfall

Reviewed by Amanda James
PYN Reviewer
4 out of 5 stars

From the beginning Berinn Rae pulls you into the fantastic world of the Guardians of the Seven Souls. This book starts off with the introduction to one tough female bush pilot Kerra whose determination got her listed at the top in Alaska. In the sky is the one true place Kerra feels like she belongs as her gift of seeing auras has made fitting in challenging. Unbeknownst to Kerra this very gift throws her into a supernatural world of Dark Angels and the Guardians of the Seven Seals.

Kerra’s family heritage causes one dark angel named Malgrin turn his sights on her and who will stop at nothing to make Kerra his. Lucky for Kerra that from the shadows a guardian has been watching and it’s his duty to assess whether Kerra is a threat to the Guardians or an unknowing pawn in a war that has been waging for thousands of years.

Kerra’s never ending stubbornness and determination draws Gareth to her creating a dynamic dance between responsibility and a love that could stand the test of time. Berinn does a fantastic job in creating a world of wonder and the super natural. This is a definite read for anyone who enjoys some action and romance rolled into one.

Interview with Jamie Haden, Author of Spirit Seeker

Jamie, it’s great to meet you! What can you tell us about you that we wouldn’t already know from your other interviews?

Oh my goodness. Let’s see. To tell you the truth, I have a very unhealthy obsession with Chanel No. 5. I used to wear Coco, but a few years back my husband surprised me with a bottle of No. 5. Since, I’ve been in love. I wear it if I’m going to the beach or simply swimming in the pool.    

Speed Answer Challenge:

Chocolate or Vanilla:  chocolate

Favorite color:  purple

Astrological sign:  Aquarius

Favorite season:  fall

Sports car or All-terrain vehicle: sports  

Watch TV or Go for a hike:  hike

Favorite animal:  eagle

Tell us a bit about your book, Spirit Seeker.

Spirit Seeker is the story of sixteen-year-old Talisa Santiago.  Life is strange and difficult for Talisa. She was born in the desert underneath the full moon in January—the wolf moon. However, she left the desert with her mother when she was a young girl. She remembers bits and pieces of her past but it isn’t until she and her mom move to a remote barrier island off the coast of North Carolina that she feels fate has finally called—secretive and mysterious he stands alone on the edge of the bank. Her friends tell her to stay away; she hears rumors that he is dangerous. Still, she can’t resist. Whether Talisa realizes it or not, she knows a thing or two about boys like Jag Chavez. Fate is funny that way.
For the first time in her life, Talisa meets kids just like her—Native Americans who know the way of the spirit. The closer she gets to Jag, the more she realizes he is hiding a dark secret. He may have the markings of the Thunderbird, but he is named for the powerful Jaguar. Together they embark on a journey that will haunt her forever.

What inspired this story? And what’s the driving force behind the rest of the series?

 Definitely my daughters.

A couple of us authors were talking on Twitter the other day about how our characters/books take on lives of their own. Like one character in my YA series loves Lady Gaga and I can’t stand her! You mention that you let Talisa have her own Voice. Have you experienced anything like we have? LOL! #FellowWritersMustJoinTogether

                Good question. Talisa lives on a remote island without a computer or a cell phone. She hates shopping and isn’t into new trends. She doesn’t wear any makeup, and dreams of going to college and becoming a doctor.

                As for me, I couldn’t live without my laptop. I love shopping, especially for shoes. I splurge on expensive make-up and dream of moving to Spain. When I was Talisa’s age I wanted to backpack through Europe with my friends.  

  

I have a harder time writing action than dialogue too! Sometimes, it’s just brutal! How do you get through it?

I’ve recently read quite a bit of noir crime fiction. Action is certainly the hardest to write, in my opinion. I’m a literary fiction girl at heart. What a thrill to read some hardboiled noir that leaves you exhilarated and utterly miserable at the same time. I love it!    

What can you tell us about the rest of the series?

The following books are all completely separate. They are stand alones and will each have a different theme.   

Where can readers purchase your book?

Spirit Seeker is available at Pill Hill Press and most online retailers such as Amazon, Barnes and Noble etc.

May we read an excerpt from the book?

I was only five when I first saw the dead man. I was awakened at midnight by the sound of beating drums.

Before me were two men with their bodies painted, wearing masks, dancing around the grotesque corpse. Their long, thick hair flapped against their backs as they moved in perfect rhythm. In and out, they went into a trance. Shadows appeared through the smoke. I could see the dead man’s spirit hovering around, waiting for redemption. His side had been torn in half, mauled it seemed by a wild animal of some sort. In the background there was a woman stirring a paste. I smiled when she looked at me. It was my mother.

She went to the dead man and began rubbing his ragged, maggot-ridden side with the magic potion. Her long hair flowed into his wounds. The two male dancers began stomping their feet, waving their hands, and chanting foreign sounds only the spirits could understand. The ceremony took most of the night. By dawn, the drums finally stopped beating. And the dead man woke up. He staggered as he stood, walking out of the tent with a limp. The miracle workers removed their masks. I watched my mother with perfect clarity. She was mesmerizing. Her beauty was extraordinary. Divine. The way she carefully wiped the paint from their sweat filled faces and soaked their bloody, battered feet in buckets of warm water was a ritual my mother knew all too well. The two men she cleansed were my father and grandfather. She handed each of them a peace pipe. That was the last memory I have of my father. After that, I don’t remember ever seeing him again.

Although I do know the moon well, the lullabies sung to me as a child were never from storybooks that promised goodnight wishes to the beautiful planet. Instead, at night, when the stars shone upon me, I would recite a sacred prayer to the hidden sun, the earth father—the almighty jaguar. I would gaze into the night sky and dream of the jaguar’s spots shinning above me. I would wish into them and fantasize childlike dreams. I knew the jaguar had a sacred power in the earth and the animals that lived upon it. I just never knew I was creating my own destiny so long ago.

Where can your readers connect with you on the web?

Thank you so much for asking

www.jamiehaden.com

I had a wonderful time today! Thanks for taking a minute to chat with me!

And thank YOU Jamie for letting us chat with you! If you'd like to hear more from Jamie, we'll be talking with her live this Wednesday at 3:30 PST on our Blog Talk Radio show. To set a reminder for the interview click here.

PYN Review of Entanglements

Reviewed by Jess Macallan
PYN Reviewer
4 out of 5 stars

ENTANGLED is a paranormal YA featuring teen Kizzy Taylor. Her life takes a dramatic and tragic turn the day she unknowingly opens a vortex and loses her little brother. She makes a half-hearted attempt at a normal life to appease her loved ones. But everything changes when Rom Calixo shows up at school. He looks familiar, and gorgeous, and like everyone else, she tries to hold him at a distance. However, he has other ideas—and motives.

Rom tags along with Kizzy’s group to a spelunking adventure to an abandoned hospital. That’s when Kizzy discovers the hard way that she’s a portal key. Her step-sister and friend are sucked into the vortex and Kizzy can barely comprehend what comes out in their place. She has to move through alternate dimensions to save them, while avoiding the creatures that would love to use her as a key.

Ms. Mason blends the paranormal—think vampires, ghouls and more—with some fascinating sci-fi components—vortexes, wild scientific theories and alternate dimensions—into a world I was sucked into. (*cringe* Please forgive the pun.) I’ve never read a storyline quite like this, and I enjoyed how she pulled everything together. Rom was both formal and charming, whereas Kizzy is aloof and understandably vulnerable. The romance between them was fun to read, although I would have liked to have known a little more about Rom beyond his family history.

Ms. Mason introduces an interesting premise and characters I’d like to read more about. I hope to see more of the world(s) she created. 4 stars to ENTANGLED.

PYN Review of Ward Against Death

Reviewed by Amanda James
PYN Reviewer
3 out of 5 stars

Ward Against Death:

Edward de’Ath-Ward is a necromancer who unknowingly gets hired to perform a wake on a young female from a noble family. Ward becomes entranced by Celia who begs for his help in pursuing those that caused her death. Ward and Celia embark on an investigation that has so many suspects that each time they turn a corner more sinister plots are revealed.

Melanie Card weaves a tale that has many twists and turns. The players in this puzzle continue to leave you guessing as to who may be the one that took Celia’s life. The bond that Melanie creates between Ward and Celia is one that anyone who has been in a relationship can relate too. The constant push and pull for the balance of power between these two dynamic characters is intriguing to the end as you see the changes of their bond ebb and flow. This book has action, romance and humor rolled into a great plot that keeps you reading all night long.