Once a Vampire…

Jennifer Brown and I are doing a blog swap today and I’m thrilled to have her. Urban fantasy is one of my favorite genres, and her series has just the right aura of dark mystery. Now, let’s find out a little bit about Jennifer.

J.D. Brown writes Urban Fantasy for MuseItUp Publishing, as well as a monthly “how-to” newsletter column for PDMI Freelance Publishing. She graduated from The International Academy of Design and Technology with a Bachelor Degree in Fine Arts and currently lives in Wisconsin with her two Pomeranians. J.D. loves paranormal characters; from vampires and werewolves, demons and angels, to witches and ghost. She is a self-proclaimed expert in vampire and Greek mythology. Her writings are often a combination of suspense and romance. J.D. enjoys helping her fellow writers and interacting with her fans and leads an active life on the web.

How long have you been writing, Jennifer? As in professionally writing fiction? About 3-4 years. I got my first contract in 2011. Before trying my hand at fiction, I flirted with the typical teen angst poetry. I won a couple poetry contests, but I’m still convinced my poems are horrible. LOL. I still have a few of those sad, angst-filled ‘woe is me’ poems hidden safely away.

So, what made you finally decide to get serious about writing? The timing was just right, I guess. Writing has always been my way of coping with emotions and feelings of sadness (I refuse to say depression, because I am happy person 90% of the time, but I struggled with health issues growing up that sometimes got me really down about myself). It was 2008-ish and I was in a really low point in my life. I had two really bad breakups, lost my job, and lost my apartment all in the same year. I had a lot of free time on my hands, but no money. Writing cost nothing, so that’s what I did. I wrote to my heart’s content. I can’t say exactly why a novel came out of me instead of my usual poem scribbles, but it did, and when I was done I had a moment of awe and I just knew that that was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

What do you consider your ideal writing conditions. Home alone, surrounded by silence. I can’t even listen to music while I write, it’s too distracting. I’m very comfortable in my own company, alone with my thoughts. I always listen to music while I write, but sometimes it’s just music in my head. When I’m in the story, I’m in the story.

Describe your rituals for preparing to write. Coffee is a must! Sometimes I’ll get a snack too. Actually, I eat a lot more when I’m in the zone and I need to be more aware of that because it can quickly become a problem…

How often do you write? I wish I could say every day, but that would be a lie. I am always doing something towards this career, it’s just not always writing. Sometimes it’s marketing, or plotting a new idea, or editing, or answering interview questions. 😉 But I push myself to write at least 3-4 days a week. As writers we do need to look up and see what’s going on in the outside world.

Are you a plotter, a pantser or some combination of both? I’m a combination, but I think I lean a little more toward pantser because no matter how hard I try to stay organized, something always ends up changing and then my characters take over and all my notes and outlines go out the door. I’m not a writer, I’m just a vessel through which my characters write because they don’t have a physical form.

Name one of your all-time favorite movies, the one you instantly recognize when it flashes across the screen, the one you stop and watch no matter how many times you’ve seen it. There is actually only one movie that I’ll gleefully watch over and over every time it comes on TV. My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Don’t ask me why!

What song makes you want to cry? Wow, I’ve never had this question on an interview before. The song would be “Who Knew” by P!nk. It reminds me very much of a dear friend from high school. Especially the music video. He and I had a very similar story. Although, there are a lot of songs that make me a little teary-eyed. I tend to associate music with people from my past. You’re absolutely right. People, place or times.

Describe one of your favorite characters and tell us who you patterned them after and why. Well Ema (from my Ema Marx series) is actually the only one of my characters who I have an actress in mind for, and that’s Mila Kunis. I adore Mila. I didn’t set out to make Ema like her, but Mila definitely works as far as looks and the ability to match Ema’s personality.

Where do you go for inspiration? I just turn to my own wacky imagination, but when that fails, I do research. My stories are speckled with actual facts and real myths and legends. With so many hundreds of vampire stories out there today, and with every paranormal fiction author trying to re-invent the vampire, it was really important to me to sort of go back to the original vampire myths – and I don’t me the ones from Romania or the Inquisition. I went much deeper than that in my research. My vampire characters actually pre-date Jesus, just to give you an idea of how far back the myths go.

Name an author or authors who never fail to inspire you. Gosh, there are so many…Anne Rice, for sure. She’s a lovely lady all around…Cassandra Clare and Darynda Jones are two more who come to mind right away. They are just wonderful talented women. They know how to tell an entertaining story, they’re original, but more importantly, all three of these women are so faithful to their fans and I think that’s very important.

Last, but not least, tell us about your current WIP. Dark Heirloom follows the misadventures of a young woman named Ema Marx as she stumbles fangs-first into the world of vampyrism. She has no idea how she became a vampyre, but she’s convinced the guy who kidnapped her is the culprit. Yet he keeps asking her how it happened. All they know is Ema will play a key role in the future of vampyre lives…that is, if she can manage to control her bloodlust without dying of embarrassment first. Dark Liaison is the sequel where Ema has to fight a major baddy that she accidently unleashed. Right now I have a free web serial on my blog titled Athena’s Oracle that is a prequel to Dark Heirloom. It’s a romance that features two of the characters from Dark Heirloom, Leena and Jalmari, and kind of chronicles how their relationship started and how the seeds leading up to Ema formed. I’m also working on the third book in the series, Dark Becoming, which I can’t say much about at this time, but I’m having a lot of fun continuing Ema’s story.

Website http://authorjdbrown.com
Blog http://authorjdbrown.blogspot.com
Email jdbrown.author@gmail.com
Buy links
• Muse It Up Publishing
• Amazon (Print and Kindle)
• Barnes & Noble Nook
• Kobo Books
• iTunes
• Books-a-Million
• Book Depository
• Official Dark Heirloom Vampires Store (signed print copies)

Excerpt from: Dark Heirloom
A scream tore from my throat. The rapid slap of my sneakers against asphalt echoed through the alley. Wind ripped my hair and coat back as if trying to halt my escape. A chain link fence rose in the distance as I neared the end of the alley. Shit. I could have sworn this one opened to Clark Street.
Thud.
I froze. My heart pounded in my ears. Tears fell as I closed my eyes. Please, please, God…
His heinous laugh drowned out my ragged breath. Caught at a dead end, I had no choice but to turn and face him. He stood in the shadows, the darkness of his attire blended in with the night. Only the glow of his emerald-colored eyes gave him away.
Think, I shouted to myself. What does he want? My purse? My money? With a shaky hand, I pulled my wallet from my bag and flung it at him. He shifted his weight, dodging the wallet in one simple move. I stared like an idiot as it landed in the gutter behind him. Why is he chasing me if he doesn’t want my money? What else could he want?
He grinned, bearing a set of abnormally sharp, fluorescent-white teeth. Who the hell is this freak? He stepped toward me. My fists clenched as I stepped back. He took another step forward. My back pressed against the cold metal of the fence. Tears blurred my vision and fell as ice melted through the back of my coat. Chills rolled down my spine, sending a quiver to my lip. I swallowed the lump of panic building in my throat. “Leave me alone!”
He kept advancing, his eyes locked on my face, his gait slow with one foot in front of the other, like a cat. I shoved a trembling hand in my purse in search of my pepper spray. He snatched my wrist and yanked me to my knees. The contents of my purse spilled and scattered.
“What makes you think I want anything from you?” he sneered.
My chest heaved as I pushed myself up. From the corner of my eye, I glanced at the mouth of the alley, now behind me.
He scoffed. “You think you can run? Go ahead, mouse. Run.”
I did.
I was almost to the street when a thick shadow dropped from the sky. Two rock-solid fists shoved my chest. I fell backward. My head hit the pavement. Stars danced in the periphery of my vision as I struggled to sit up, but my limbs moved in slow motion.
Two hands, each finger adorned by a silver ring, gripped my shoulders and lifted me. My back hit something solid and cold—a brick wall. My feet dangled above the ground. He held me at eye level; his sour breath churned my stomach as his face inched closer to mine.
“I know what you’re thinking.” His voice was deep, smooth, as he rolled his R’s. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Nevertheless, once you kill one rat, you have to kill them all. Even a little mouse like yourself.”
My blood drained at the utterance of the word kill. I squirmed in his grasp. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
He clenched my jaw with one hand as his fingernails dug into my skin. I cried not from the pain, but from fear.
“Would you like to know a secret?” His hot breath caused bile to rise in my throat. “Only you disgusting rats can see our eyes glow. I’m sure you knew that already. I’m sure your mother told you the stories. I’ll bet you didn’t listen to her. I bet you thought they were just fairy tales and bad dreams, hmm?”
I had no idea what he was talking about. I concentrated on finding a way out of his grip, hoping his guard would slip while he continued his monologue.
“You know, when you find one rat, there are a dozen more in the nest.” He tightened his grasp. “Where’s your rathole, eh little mouse?”
“Let me go!” Pain manifested in every inch of my face. My jaw throbbed and my head spun. A stiff ache cut through my spine. Fear and cold shook my core. Exhaustion weighed down my struggling limbs. I just wanted it to end.
He studied my face for a moment, a frown tugged at his lips. “Very well.”
He released my jaw then reached back under his jacket. The sound of sharp metal being unsheathed pierced the night as he drew out a long silver dagger. My eyes widened at the emblems engraved on every inch of the blade and handle. I recognized them as Norse in origin. I also recognized the precise way in which he held the dagger level with my left rib cage. He’s going to stab me in the heart.

It’s been great to have you here, Jennifer. Please come back and visit again soon. Those of you who have stopped by, please check out my interview on Jennifer’s blog today. http://authorjdbrown.blogspot.com

WELCOME ERIC PRICE

Tags

Eric Price, fantasy, Institute of Children's Literature, MuseItUp Publishing, Unveiling the Wizard's Shroud, writing courses

Today I’m doing a blog swap with fellow Muser, Eric Price. It’s great to have him here. Let’s find out a little bit about him.

Eric grew up in central Illinois. He now lives in northwest Iowa with his wife and two sons. He began publishing in 2008 when he started writing a quarterly column for a local newspaper. His first short story, “Ghost Bed and Ghoul Breakfast,” a spooky children’s tale about a haunted bed and breakfast, came out later the same year. He has published more than 30 nonfiction articles/columns, four short stories, and a poem. Three of his short stories have won honorable mention in the CrossTIME Annual Science Fiction contest. This is his first novel.

A Sci-Fi Writer Becomes a Fantasy Writer
or Why I Wrote Unveiling the Wizards’ Shroud
by Eric Price

For conversational purposes, let’s say you already know I wanted to write, I took a course from The Institute of Children’s Literature, and I published some stories. You probably already know, due to your exceptional knowledge of me, The Institute of Children’s Literature offered me an advanced course, and I took it. Here’s where I’ll have to add some details, as those two courses worked together to pull from me the story that became Unveiling the Wizards’ Shroud.

I do not show particular favoritism to any genre when reading. Yet, I have read a lot of Science Fiction. The same is true about my writing. I’ve written many different genres. I wrote most of my stories for contests, they didn’t win, and I’ve never resubmitted them elsewhere. Of the stories I have published, all but one was Science Fiction, and it had supernatural elements in it…so maybe it counts.

Now you’re probably asking, what does this have to do with the writing courses? For the second course, I had to submit up to three proposals for books I’d like to write, and I had to let the instructor know which of these I’d prefer to develop into a book. In turn, she’d get back to me with which one she thought I should write.

My first proposal came from the final assignment of the initial course. I had to draft the first chapter of a book. It was a contemporary story about a girl adjusting to a new town her senior year of high school. I told the instructor I’d like to write this one since I already had the first chapter completed. (This book may still happen, but now it involves an ancient alien civilization).

My second proposal was a time travel story where a boy makes a mistake which results in his girlfriend’s death. At her funeral, a strange figure offers him a chance to go back and change his actions, but with the cost of equal suffering to what he felt with her death. He takes the figure up on the offer, but his good intentions backfire. (I realize now this would make a decent short story, but I’d struggle to stretch it to book length).

I didn’t have a third proposal in mind, but since I could submit three, I thought I should. I brainstormed for a while and threw together another proposal. In it, the illegitimate son of the king wants to inherit the throne. But to do so, the king must claim his birthright on the son’s fifteenth birthday. Before he can claim the birthright, the king falls ill. The king’s wizard brews potions to keep the king alive. He also instructs the boy on a quest to find the missing ingredient to revive the king. (This has only slight similarity to the book I finally wrote).

Although I told the instructor I’d like to develop the first proposal, I started thinking more about the third story. The characters started to come to life. I could see them and hear their voices. (This really does happen. Anyone interested in writing a book should try it just for this effect). I started seeing more of their world. New characters emerged from the shadows. I wanted to write this story!

I waited to hear from my instructor, prepared to tell her I had a change of heart and I needed to write the third proposal. When I received her letter, she told me I could write about whichever story I preferred, but she urged me to write the fantasy. Well, I did.

At the end of the course, I had a completed manuscript. I sent it to some people to read. They gave me feedback. I revised it with their suggestions. And I let it sit on my computer.

I told myself I would revise it one more time and submit it for publication. But I never worked on it. I published some more science fiction stories, but still this completed book sat on my hard drive. One day my wife asked me if I ever planned to submit it. I told her I did, but I needed to revise it again. She urged me to submit it a few places to see if anyone was interested before I spent time revising it.

I started researching publishers. I found Muse It Up Publishing, and I submitted it to them. They rejected it. But instead of a form-letter rejection, I got a personalized rejection with information about what the editorial team didn’t like. They said if I’d rework it and fix those issues, they’d look at it again. I fixed them, resubmitted, and signed a contract.

With the release of Unveiling the Wizards’ Shroud approaching, I’ve had more ideas about the fantastic land of Wittatun, and some neighboring lands not explored in this book. So who knows, this Sci-Fi writer may be taking a vacation from the stars and the void of space to settle in a drafty castle for a while. Of course, the stars don’t go completely unnoticed in this book, either.

An excerpt from Unveiling the Wizards’ Shroud
As the only son to King Kendrick, Owen despises the idea of being king one day. Magician may be the only career he’d like less. He has dreaded the days leading up to his fifteenth birthday, when his father will certainly declare Owen heir to the throne. But at the birthday celebration, his father falls ill. The only person in the kingdom that may be able to save him is a magician–the very same magician Owen holds responsible for the death of his mother.

Owen and his companions will have to travel the continent of Wittatun in search of the cure for King Kendrick. On the journey, they will battle strange beasts and harsh climates, befriend extraordinary magicians, and meet a dragon before returning to Innes Castle–where much has happened in the days since he departed.

The cool night air blew in Cedric’s face. His new beard, now reaching the neck of his cloak, ruffled in the breeze. He hoped the sound of rustling leaves and tree branches would help mask his own sounds as he sneaked behind Argnam’s cabin.

Cedric took his staff and drew the outline of a door on the back wall. He stepped away and the line started glowing faint chartreuse. Within the outline, the wall almost vaporized to dust. It piled on the ground as quiet as a phantom; the chirping crickets didn’t even break from their merry song.

Creeping through the makeshift doorway, Cedric saw the figures of a man and a woman lying in bed. The moonlight cast enough of a glow for him to recognize the man as Argnam. He couldn’t identify the woman; her long blond hair obscured her face.

As he approached the side of the bed, he raised the dagger he brought for the assassination. He took a deep breath before plunging it into Argnam’s chest.
The woman’s leg flashed out of the covers, striking him in the chest and knocking the wind out of him. She sprang from the bed. Her feet met his face in a rapid succession of kicks, topping the skill of a master fighter.

Gasping for breath and unable to stand, Cedric fell to his hands and knees and looked up at the approaching woman. The moon silhouetted her female form. Light reflected on her face, and Cedric recognized Necrose before she raised her leg over her head, and slammed the heel of her foot into his face. Total darkness enveloped him.

Website/Blog authorericprice.com
Twitter: AuthorEricPrice
Facebook: eric.price.1675

Thanks for visiting with me today, Eric. Your book sounds like my kind of read…so you know that means another book on my To Read list!