Tuesday Author Talks

I’d really like it if you all would welcome Margaret L. Carter to the stage!

Margaret L. Carter specializes in vampires, having been marked for life by reading DRACULA at the age of twelve. Her vampire novel DARK CHANGELING won an Eppie Award in the horror category in 2000. Other creatures she writes about include werewolves, dragons, ghosts, and Lovecraftian entities with tentacles. In addition to her horror, fantasy, and paranormal romance fiction, she has had several nonfiction books and articles published on the supernatural in literature. Explore love among the monsters at her website, Carter’s Crypt, at http://www.margaretlcarter.com.
1.      Who was your first author crush and why?

Ray Bradbury. His early fiction portrayed the horror motifs I already loved (in my early teens) in a lyrical style and sometimes, as in “Homecoming,” from the viewpoint of the “monster.” My favorite collection of his stories is THE OCTOBER COUNTRY.

2.      What was your first clue you were a writer? Was it a long journey or a short one? Have you always known?

I started at about age 13. Having read DRACULA at the age of 12, then scoured the library for supernatural horror fiction and bought paperbacks of vintage pulp authors such as Bradbury, Bloch, Matheson, and Lovecraft, I couldn’t find enough of what I wanted to read (in the early 1960s). I especially wanted stories sympathetic to the “monsters.” So I started writing them. My first completed story involved love between a man and a ghost. I craved paranormal romance long before it became a marketing category.

3.      What are some of your writer-esque quirks (do you have to be in your pjs? always facing the door? Do people look at you after something funny happens and say ‘that’s going in a book, isn’t it?’)?

I can’t read anything without noticing, and sometimes complaining out loud about,  stylistic, research, proofreading, and continuity errors.

4.      Finish this joke: A clown, a priest and a writer all get onto an elevator…

The elevator gets stuck. The priest prays for patience. The clown climbs up the wall to try the trap door in the ceiling. The writer opens a pad and starts taking notes.

5.      Speed round: Without giving it too much thought, pick which one you favour over the other: 

OK, but in some cases I really like both (eating in or out, e-books and paperbacks). Or, in the case of cars, I’d probably like a Prius, but we have a Dodge Hemi:


Chocolate                    or         flowers – CHOCOLATE

Talk                             or         Text – TALK

Mountains                   or         Beach – MOUNTAINS

Cowboy                      or         Marine – MARINE

Wine                            or         Beer – WINE

Cats                             or         Dogs – CATS

Ebooks                        or         Paperbacks – PAPERBACKS

Pantser                                    or         Plotter – PLOTTER

Batman                        or         Superman – SUPERMAN

Ability to fly               or         Power to be invisible – INVISIBLE

Prius                            or         Hemmie – HEMI

Follow the rules          or         Break the rules – FOLLOW RULES

TV                               or         Movies  – TV

NY                              or         LA – L.A.

Vampires                     or         Angels – VAMPIRES

Fall                              or         Spring – SPRING

Neat                            or         Messy – NEAT

Werewolf                    or         Genie – WEREWOLF

Tell jokes                     or         Pull pranks – TELL JOKES

Home cooked meals    or         Go out to a restaurant – GO OUT

Don’t forget to visit Margaret at:

My website, Carter’s Crypt:

My monthly free newsletter:
and check out her latest e-book release, erotic paranormal romance novella “Wizard’s Trap”:

Thanks again Margaret!

Six Sentence Sunday

Wanna play? It’s simple.
1. pick 6 sentences from your WIP or other work.
2. Link back to Six Sentence Sunday
That’s it.
So here’s my entry. Playing with the title a bit. Raven’s Blood or Raven’s Warning sound better?

I laughed at that. I heard him laugh too, right before he slammed against the door. My puny little blockade wouldn’t hold that for any length. I felt him stomp a few steps back for another go. With nothing left to lose, I leveraged myself against the building, and leapt over the railing. I heard a growl as the door to my balcony exploded.

Tuesday Author Talks

Hello again! Another author has been gracious enough to be my next victim…err…guest. Please welcome Keena Kincaid!

Author Keena Kincaid likes to say she writes romances in which passion, magic and treachery collide to create unforgettable stories. The truth is she’s usually kidnapped by tall, handsome men, who are totally into someone else, and held hostage until she helps them win the woman of their dreams.

Most recently, she’s matched Jane Grey, a risk analyst at NASA, with Andrew Morgan, a small town detective in the middle of taking down a corrupt sheriff. Jane is unable to see beyond her scarred past to a future with Andy, but he knows they will have something special—if he lives long enough to convince her to risk her heart.

Find her:

·         http://keenakincaid.com/

·         http://typosandall.com

1.      Who was your first author crush and why? Oh, wow…this is sad but I really can’t remember the first. My first romance author crush was Julie Garwood. I found her book “The Secret” in an airport as I waited for a flight to London. I read it…and I think I bought three more of her books before the three week trip was over.

2.      What was your first clue you were a writer? Was it a long journey or a short one? Have you always known? Writing is more like a shadow that accompanies me on the journey. It’s there regardless. I’ve always told stories (although Mom sometimes called them fibs) and I’ve been blessed to earn my living as a writer.

3.      What are some of your writer-esque quirks (do you have to be in your pjs? always facing the door? Do people look at you after something funny happens and say ‘that’s going in a book, isn’t it?’)? I have to have background noise to really lose myself in the process. TV, music, coffeehouse chatter all work equally well.

4.      Finish this joke: A clown, a priest and a writer all get onto an elevator…and I am so not good at being funny on demand. My mind immediately went to a zombie with a seeing eye dog standing in the back corner. Nothing good can come from that.

5.      Speed round: Without giving it too much thought, pick which one you favour over the other: 

Chocolate                    or         flowers

Talk                             or         Text

Mountains                   or         Beach

Cowboy                      or         Marine

Wine                           or         Beer

Cats                             or         Dogs

Ebooks                       or         Paperbacks

Pantser                       or         Plotter

Batman(more pathos)                        or         Superman

Ability to fly               or         Power to be invisible

Prius                           or         Hemmie

Follow the rules          or         Break the rules

TV                               or         Movies

NY                              or         LA

Vampires                     or         Angels

Fall                              or         Spring

Neat                            or         Messy

Werewolf                   or         Genie

Tell jokes                    or         Pull pranks

Home cooked meals   or         Go out to a restaurant

Six Sentence Sunday

Here are the rules…
1. pick 6 sentences from your wip, finished draft or published work.
2. post ’em and link back to here
That’s it.

Here’s my entry for today

I waved down at him and he saluted me back, turned and got into his car and drove away. I went to 16C, pushed the door open and flung my jacket and purse while my keys dangled from my hands, unused.  Did I leave the lights on?

            “Hm, the Corvus must be getting desperate.”A male voice said from the direction of my

bedroom. That was wrong; I lived alone.

Guest writer, Julia Phillips Smith!!!

Hi folks!
Here’s a real treat, once a week I’m going to try to get guest writers in to talk to you all. Nothing super formal but hopefully lots of fun! And my very first guest here it my RWAC friend, Julia Phillips Smith! Her book, Saint Sanguinus is a top notch read!

A little bit about Julia, from Julia:

Like many people in the arts, my jobs have run the gamut – from box office for cinema and The National Ballet of Canada, to front-of-house staff for a big city performing arts centre. I’ve worked retail in an eight-story landmark flagship store, and in a small town dollar store. I’ve had the life-affirming adventure of being a live-in nanny, and the irreplaceable time spent providing elder care to my late Gram. I migrated into the 9-to-5 world of offices, morphing into records management for my Clark Kent job. All the while, I’ve been telling stories. I live with my husband, our dog and my mom on Canada’s east coast, where the rugged sea and misty forests feed my thirst for gothic tales.

Without further ado…the interview!

1.      Who was your first author crush and why?

My first author crush—now that’s a tough one. I’d have to say Mary Stewart for her Merlin series. THE CRYSTAL CAVE was a life-changing book for me, one that led directly to my own debut Dark Ages vampire novel. What’s a few decades in between?

Her detailed author notes that told of her research into a time period still not as understood in 1970 as it has been with recent thermal imaging held me riveted, as much as the story itself. Her passion for authenticity in turn led me to my own lifelong love affair with that time period. The 2009 news story of the Staffordshire Hoard—a thrilling archeological discovery of Anglo-Saxon jewelry and weapons fittings—nearly sent me into paroxysms of joy.

2.      What was your first clue you were a writer? Was it a long journey or a short one? Have you always known?

I was drawn to role play when I was kid, over things like skipping rope or playing red-light-green-light, or Monopoly or Lego. I did all those things, of course, but I was much happier when we were playing Little House on the Prairie (“Okay, you be Laura, you be Nellie and I’ll be Mary, and let’s pretend we’re walking home from school and Laura hurts herself and we have to go to Mrs. Olsen’s, but she won’t let us in cause we’re all dirty.”)

In retrospect I was always in the midst of a story. I also seriously went about writing my own Little House-esque novel, complete with Garth Williams-inspired illustrations. And I wrote poetry from a young age—for fun. Which I still do, today.

I suppose I realized that other people saw me as a writer when my grade nine English teacher asked me to write original short stories showcasing aspects like setting, plot, character, etc. instead of handing in the essays that the rest of the class were passing in.  

3.      What are some of your writer-esque quirks (do you have to be in your pjs? always facing the door? Do people look at you after something funny happens and say ‘that’s going in a book, isn’t it?’)?

My typical writer quirk is habitually staring off into la-la land the moment I’m not specifically engaged in conversation or intently focused on a task. I think this is a basic writer thing, and for me it’s rather pronounced.

I also prefer to write with my headphones on, listening to music. And when I say ‘prefer’ I mean I use the putting-on of the headphones as a ritualized signal that it’s time to start writing fiction.

4.      Finish this joke: A clown, a priest and a writer all get onto an elevator…

Oh, man. I’m not a comedy writer. I write tragic historical horror/fantasy.

A clown, a priest and a writer all get onto an elevator. The clown asks for floor 13. The priest looks at the number panel, intending to press the button, only to realize there’s only floor 12 and floor 14.

He looks back toward the clown to explain, only to see that he’s alone with the writer. “Where did he go?” the priest asks.

But the writer continues to stare at the elevator doors, as though unaware of the priest’s existence. When the doors open and the writer exits, the priest tries to follow him, but an unseen hand pulls him back inside the elevator.

The doors close. The elevator begins to go down. Down. The numbers in the overhead display can’t keep up. The priest tries to pray, but the gloved hand of the clown presses firmly over his mouth.  

5.      Speed round: Without giving it too much thought, pick which one you favour over the other: 

Chocolate                    or         flowers – chocolate

Talk                             or         Text – text

Mountains                   or         Beach – beach

Cowboy                      or         Marine – Marine

Wine                            or         Beer – wine

Cats                             or         Dogs –
                                    dogs (just watched the Westminster Dog Show)

Ebooks                        or         Paperbacks –
                                           paperbacks (I know—don’t laugh)

Pantser                        or         Plotter – pantser

Batman                        or         Superman – Batman

Ability to fly               or         Power to be invisible – invisibility

Prius                            or         Hemmie – Jaguar (Hey Julia, that’s not
                                                                                on the list! ))

Follow the rules          or         Break the rules –
                                        I’m more of a follow the rules person—                              until it gets to things like indie publishing or indie film

TV                               or         Movies – movies

NY                              or         LA – NY!

Vampires                     or         Angels – vampires

Fall                              or         Spring – fall (my favourite season)

Neat                            or         Messy –
                                            neat at work, kick things out of the way at home

Werewolf                    or         Genie – genie

Tell jokes                     or         Pull pranks – tell jokes

Home cooked meals    or         Go out to a restaurant –
                                                   pass me the menu, please
Thanks Julia, I hope you had as much fun as I did! If you’d like to learn more about Julia or her books, visit her site HERE.

Six Sentence Sunday

A little late, I know.
Here are the rules:
Choose six sentences from a wip, finished project or published release of yours.
Post them. That’s it. Want to see more? Go here.
That simple.

Here’s my entry

The crow was back. It was outside my window, cawing loud enough to wake the dead. Franco noticed it too.

            “Morgan? Isn’t that your place?” he peered over his steering wheel.

Acking and Hacking…

Acking comes from the whole ‘Ack I’m not finished the Damn Book yet’. I’m close, but something is missing. I have a general idea of what is going to happen but someone is dragging their feet getting there. Not sure if its the mc who doesn’t want to face what’s happened to her family, Tyr who doesn’t want to fess up to what he’s done or me because if I finish the book then it will be over. I know this is the first book in at least four, so I won’t technically be away from these characters for long, but it’s like going to visit friends sometimes. You really don’t want to go, you’re having such a good time with them (or in this case, awful things are happening and you don’t want to leave them just yet). It’s not like I won’t have to go back and edit this one before I let it see the light of another person’s hard drive, except my CP (God bless and keep you!). I’m being a ninny, I know I’m being a ninny and still… I’m a ninny.

The Hacking comes from being sick. A good patient, I do not make. I’m not the one who wants to cuddle and get kisses and be coddled. Don’t give me chocolates or stuff animals, magazines or books I haven’t chosen myself. Leave me alone, preferably WAAAY alone. I do not want to be touched. I’m gross and phlemy and if you want to touch me like this you’re insane and I have no bones about telling you…and while I’m picking these bones, there’s a list I’ve been meaning to ‘discuss’ with you. I have to do a lot of apologizing when I get better. Most people I love know to leave me alone, when I’m sick. They pop in to make sure I’m eating (something I don’t do much of when sick, which makes me more sick, I know), might cook me soup (I love soup) but they don’t interact much with me. And I’m grateful. I had to put on my ‘Happy Face’ for the kiddos that came to visit today. Which makes me grumpy, because I’m hacking and coughing and sputtering and going through tissues a box at a time. The kids think I’m a freaking moron, my cousin gives me a pitying look, and my mother tries to keep me away from everyone so I won’t have too much apologizing. And my cat tries to permanently attach herself to my lap…even while standing. She loves the computer, the table I’m sitting at, she’ll even give the kidlets love (not much mind, she’s a little skittish around the minis), all in an effort to make me feel better. I love her, I really do, but come on. Cuddle on the bed, while I’m sleeping.

Now excuse me while I continue acking and hacking my way to THE END. My book will not die at this point.

Six Sentence Sunday

http://platform.twitter.com/widgets/hub.1326407570.html1. Choose 6 sentences from one of your works…published, unpublished, in progress, it doesn’t matter. Post them in your blog before 9am est Sunday (as I said, I’m early, but I’m going away tomorrow and haven’t figured out how to program my posts yet).

2. Link back to the Six Sentence website . Done. It’s that easy, folks.

So here’s my entry, again from rough draft of Raven’s Blood

          “Upright is good,” I nodded. He chuckled again, beeped open the door and helped me settle in, buckling my seatbelt securely. I shivered as his knuckles grazed the skin exposed by the v in my t-shirt. He froze.
“You okay?” his voice was low and I was painfully aware how close we were. I squirmed.