Author Interview – Filipa Fonseca Silva

What is your favorite quote? “Some people obtain fame, others deserve it”. Doris Lessing

What is your favorite color? Pink

What is your favorite food? Watermelon

What’s your favorite place in the entire world? The desert beaches of Southwest Portugal

Do you recall how your interest in writing originated? Sure: I decided I wanted to become a writer as soon as I read my first book.

What genre are you most comfortable writing? Contemporary fiction

Do you intend to make writing a career? Yes, that’s my dream.

Have you developed a specific writing style? Yes. My writing is very visual and cinematographic

What is your greatest strength as a writer? Building characters people relate to.

Have you ever had writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it? Sure I have. I stop for a few days and do other stuff. It’s no use panicking. Imagination will start flowing as soon as we have a break and a rest.

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Genre - Contemporary Fiction  

Rating – PG13

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Website http://pipaswonderland.blogspot.com

Not a Whisper by Donna B McNicol

Cherie didn't know which was flying faster, the coffee, the food or the gossip. The Klondike Breakfast Club, or KB's as they called themselves, were energetically discussing the fire that burned down a local business the night before and speculating about the owner's part in it. These folks, mostly closer to her aunt's age, were definitely not what she was used to in Tucson, Arizona. Back there, she couldn't call it home anymore, older folks mostly talked about their medical problems and where to find the best buffet deals.

Pansy Tucker, her aunt, was the unofficial founder of this unorthodox group - or maybe the unorthodox founder of this unofficial group would be a better description. She sipped her tea and listened to the voices rising above the clatter of dishes and silverware as everyone finished eating and continued sharing their snippets of gossip.

“Yeah, that fire was something else. The volunteers had their hands full. I heard they brought in the Bradford Fire Department, too. The chief told Tony it was so tough to fight ‘cause of the way it's been built up and added to over the years. That and it had probably been burning for hours before it got seen and called in.” This from the gentleman at the end of the table. Tom, Cherie struggled to remember his name, he's married to that tiny lady beside him.

The oldest person at the table, Bob Rounder spoke up. “Well I heard it was so bad the walls fell smack into the basement. They had to let it burn to the ground.”

“My Jimmy said it was really bad. Worst he'd ever seen since he's been a volunteer.” This from a woman who walked over from a neighboring table.

“Hi Janie. Was Jimmy at the fire?” asked Tom's wife, Edy.

Before Janie could answer, Ed Williams piped in, “You know this ain't the first fire at The Drop Inn. Back in the 80's and 90's when old Earl owned it, there were a couple of ‘em. Never burned to the ground though and he just kept adding on.”

Kat Daily, the owner and only waitress at Kat's Klondike Kafe, started refilling coffee cups as she listened in on the conversations. “More tea, Pansy?”

“Sure, but fetch me some more Sweet n' Low, too. Gotta watch my girlish figure.” Pansy hefted her more than ample bosoms in her hands, smiling innocently at her table mates.

Edy looked up from her coffee, “Did you hear about the fire last night, Kat? I can't believe The Drop Inn is gone.”

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Genre – Cozy Mystery

Rating – PG

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Website http://donnamcnicol.com/

Author Interview – Dermot Davis

You’re also a playwright?

Yes, my background is in theatre and aside from some early poetry and short stories, plays were the first real writings I attempted.

How does the experience of writing a play differ from that of writing a novel?

For me, they pose a very different set of challenges. The limitations involved in writing a play are very strict and confining and can be very difficult to adhere to or overcome. In a play, the entire action is taking place in real time and although you can play around with creative lighting, scene changes, blocking and so on, so much is dependent on the dialogue itself. Mostly everything has to be conveyed through believable dialogue between the characters on stage and only one person can speak at a time. The number of characters you can put on a stage at any one time tends to determine what can happen in a scene.

Having said that, it’s also very true that knowing and working within the limitations can be very freeing and can very much improve the work. Dialogue has to be economical and very, very precise, for instance.

And writing the novel?

Writing the novel is almost like going to the other extreme where there are unlimitless possibilities. You can write for a cast of thousands, travel back and forth around the world and through time itself and you have the opportunity of allowing your characters to speak pages and pages about their inner-most thoughts. It’s wonderful.

You enjoy writing having in a medium that has less limitations, then?

Yes and no. They are both just different beasts, really. The dangers of having too few limitations are that, in the novel, for instance, I can write pages about something that really doesn’t serve the characters or the plot but I’m so in love with my writing that I find it hard to curb myself. That happens a lot and a good editor should be able to spot those areas and respectfully run a red pen through them (laughs). A really strict editor is a writer’s godsend, to be honest.

Do you have an organized process or tips for writing well? Do you have a writing schedule?

I don’t write to a schedule usually but I do try to write every day that I’m working on a project. Some days I could write lots and other days very little but I try not to force myself to write if the story isn’t flowing. Usually when I find myself slowing down, on further analysis, I discover within myself that I’ve come to some kind of resistance in the writing and it serves me to stop and take a closer look at what that might be.

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Genre - Literary Fiction

Rating – PG

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Website www.dermotdavis.com

Max and the Gatekeeper by James Todd Cochrane

Max and the Gatekeeper – James Todd Cochrane

Amazon Kindle US

Amazon Kindle UK

Genre – YA, Fantasy, Science Fiction

Rating – PG13

4.4 (81 reviews)

Free until 7 September 2013

A war has been waging for centuries; a magical and technological battle between good and evil. This conflict will affect life everywhere, but not everyone is aware it exists. When twelve-year old Max Rigdon is sent to stay with his grandfather for the summer, he unwillingly enters the fight.
The day Max steps off the bus he is marked with an evil curse and immediately becomes the target of evil men and creatures with designs on ruling the universe. Not only does this curse cause Max physical pain but it allows his enemies to track and find him. He soon learns that the reason for this unwanted attention is because his grandfather is the keeper of a gateway; a powerful machine that makes travel to hundreds of strange unknown worlds possible. The enemy will do anything to gain possession of this power in their quest to control all worlds.
With the help of his friend Cindy and others, Max must quickly learn the necessary skills to survive if he is to avoid the deadly trap that has been planned for him and his grandfather. A trap that has been decades in the making with Max as the missing piece. If successful it will change life as we know it.

Author Interview - Karin Rita Gastreich

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

It’s hard to pick just one theme – there are so many important threads in the book.  Essentially, Eolyn is a woman struggling to define her own path in the face of prejudice and oppression, and in a world largely ruled by men.  This a theme I think a lot of people can relate to.

So my message, I suppose, is that it is possible to define your own path, to be the person you want to be, no matter how difficult the obstacles you face.  But your success depends not only your own effort and determination, it also depends on the friends and allies you make along the way.  None of us live in this world alone. In learning to understand each other, we learn about – and liberate – ourselves.

Do you have to travel much concerning your book(s)?

I don’t have to travel, but I love to do it. I have had the good fortune of traveling all my life, and the places I’ve visited have invariably inspired the stories I’ve written.  So, while I don’t conscientiously travel to do research, I always end up doing research while I’m travelling.

As a result, Eolyn’s world – the Kingdom of Moisehén – is a strange amalgamation of different cultures and time periods.  At its roots is an imaginary Germanic medieval culture inspired by childhood trips to Germany with my family.  The province of  Moehn, where Eolyn was born, has elements of the Central Valley of Costa Rica during the colonial period.  Eolyn’s home with the witch Ghemena in the South Woods was inspired by the oak forests of the Talamanca Mountain Range of Central America.  Add to all this a bit of spice from Pre-Colombian Peru, as well as a dash of contemporary feminist sentiment, and you have quite a volatile mix!

How important do you think villains are in a story?

Villains are essential.  And they can be a lot of fun!  But in order to work well within a story, they also have to be three-dimensional characters with their own set of motivations, dreams, and internal conflicts.

My second novel High Maga has a ‘true’ villain in the character of Mechnes.  I say ‘true’ because he is really unredeemable, and yet in his best (which are simultaneously his worst) moments he is somehow admirable. I mean, you can’t help but respect this guy even as you despise him. Mechnes is one of the most difficult characters I have ever written, but I think he is also one of the best.

Have you started another book yet?

Right now, I am working on the third and final novel of the Eolyn sequence, entitled Daughter of Aithne.  I love the writing of this book!  Daughter of Aithne will be the culmination of Eolyn’s journey from humble origins to foundress of a new era of magic.  Unlike the previous two novels, where male characters have played central roles in the major conflicts, Daughter of Aithne is shaping up to be a conflict played out, for the most part, between very powerful women.  I wish I could tell you more about it, but I should probably wait until you’ve had a chance to read Eolyn and its companion novel, High Maga.

Do you have any advice for writers?

Don’t get too stressed about arriving at the destination.  Instead, enjoy the journey. That’s what it’s all about.

If you have the opportunity to publish or be published, be prepared to work hard at marketing, but don’t let it take over your life.  The priority should always be you: your health, your wellbeing, your family and friends, and all the little details, including writing, that bring joy to your days.

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Genre - Fantasy

Rating – PG13

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Website http://eolynchronicles.blogspot.com

BoX by Lucas Heath

1: Marsha and Barry

The room was a cube. It was twenty feet in height, length, and width, and the walls seemed to glow a stunning white that surpassed the purity of freshly fallen snow. There were no windows, no doors, and no blemishes of any kind, just solid walls that boxed the young girl inside with no way of escape.

Her fragile body lay sprawled upon the solid white ground, shaking from cold. Fear had yet to settle in, for she had not yet awakened.

As time ticked away, her eyes finally opened and her head jerked up from the floor of her prison. Her head pivoted and tilted as she surveyed her surroundings. The beat of her heart began to quicken as she came to the realization of her predicament.

She remembered her identity, and where she was from, though why she was in this strange place escaped her memory. She sat up and grabbed at her neck, letting trembling fingers glide across the soft tan skin. A bump where somebody had stuck a needle found its place underneath her index finger and she rubbed at the spot, ignoring the pain. She had been drugged, though the reason why someone would do this eluded her.

Panic threatened to kick in. The fight or flight instinct gripped at her heart, but with a deep breath she pushed the feelings away. Her father had always said, "Marsha, fear is an illusion that makes you weak. You either learn to control it, or it will control you." She agreed with that statement and made destroying fear in her life a goal.

Marsha slowly stood up and felt her legs wobbling underneath her. Using the wall for support, she steadied herself and took another deep breath, letting it out slowly. A pedestal in the very center of the room drew her attention. Sitting atop the square stand was a single pistol, though she had no idea what kind it was, or if it was even loaded.

Deciding to avoid the deadly device, Marsha turned toward a wall and ran her hands over it. It was smooth like marble and radiated a luminescent light that gave the room its glow. If it weren't for these walls, floor, and ceiling, she would be shrouded in darkness. She followed the wall around the entirety of the cube, feeling for any switches or hidden panels, though she didn't find anything.

She finally leaned against and slid down a wall until her bottom hit the ground. She rested her head against her knees and began to cry.

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Genre –  Thriller / SciFi

Rating – PG13

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Website http://lucasheathbooks.com/

The Dream Rider by Ernest Dempsey

I looked down at the wound but made myself keep going despite feeling the pain and the thick, crimson liquid oozing down my leg. As I pushed my way forward, a million questions ran through my head. One in particular stuck out. Why were these guys trying to kill me? I was just a college student. I never had problems with anybody. I looked back at the men in the trench coats. They were walking slowly now, but still firing their weapons. Glass storefront windows shattered around me and car windshields cracked with spider webs, hollow holes in the middle.

I dragged myself off the concrete and started to limp away as fast as I could, but another bullet found it’s way through the calf muscle of my other leg. I dropped to my knees and groaned in agony. My hands tugged against the concrete, straining to pull my body’s weight along. Suddenly, I felt a sickening thud in the upper part of my back. It felt like I’d been struck by a sledgehammer. The force of the impact knocked me forward onto my face. The concrete was cold on my skin, a strange contrast to the warm liquid leaking from my body in three places.

Three pairs of black boots crunched across the glass and rubble, coming to stop next to my face. The men were standing over me, looking down like I was nothing more than a rabid dog they were disposing of. The one with the shaved head grinned, revealing stained, crooked teeth. The other two just watched as he aimed the gun at my head.

There was nothing I could do but lay there. I couldn’t feel my legs, which meant the last bullet had severed my spinal cord. I knew I was about to die but didn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t understand why these men were doing this. I’d never seen any of them before. But I wouldn’t give them the pleasure of seeing me flinch, whoever they were. I didn’t beg. I didn’t even ask why they were doing it. I’m not sure why. I just didn’t.

My head twisted and I stared down the barrel of the gun as the sunlight silhouetted the enormous figure of the man who was about to kill me. My head rolled to the side and for the briefest of seconds, I noticed a young woman with long brown hair standing still while everyone else panicked. She was a vision of serenity amidst the chaos. She watched with a strange curiosity as the bald man stood over me. I returned my gaze to the tip of the weapon just in time to see him squeeze the trigger. I heard the gunshot, again like it was in slow motion and, felt the bullet hit my skull.

Then everything went black.

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Genre –  Science Fiction

Rating – PG13

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Website http://ernestdempsey.net/