Marie Lavender (host): You've been a working actress for many years. How has writing fit into your life, or how did you transition to writing?

 

Emilia Ares: Funnily enough, I began writing while on one of my sets. I was doing a film and sometimes we have to wait for hours in between takes. In those situations, it’s best to do something to take your mind off the scene in order to keep the acting fresh and the reactions surprising. Reading is a great go-to, but there had been this story and these characters – Oliver and Mina ­– who were living in my head and nagging at my brain. I just had to get them on paper, so to speak. I wrote a chapter of their story into my notes on my iPhone and I also jotted down what else would probably happen later on in the story. When I got back to town, I wanted to show it to my younger sister, Sofia, who was reading a lot of YA at the time and ended up becoming an English major. She’s the one who encouraged me to keep writing and turn it into a book. She said she loved it and couldn’t wait for more. I don’t think Love and Other Sins would have existed without her encouragement.

 

Marie: What have you learned about storytelling from TV projects you've acted in like American Horror Story and Bosch?

Emilia: I’ve learned a ton about storytelling from the TV and film projects I’ve acted in, especially the importance of a strong emotional connection with my characters. Creating a backstory for my characters on and off the screen was vital. More times than not, my character’s backstory was not provided to me either because the project was high profile and the full script was kept under wraps or because I was playing a guest star whose history was not explicitly discussed or mentioned in the script itself. So, I’d have to invent the backstory.

 

That process is very similar to writing characters in a book. I used my knowledge of how the character was described in the breakdown that was provided during the casting process including any traits, qualities, strengths, weaknesses, quirks. I would then make an educated guess about what this person ultimately wants/needs from life, taking into consideration the character arc in the scene/overall story to create a reasonable history for them. In the case of American Horror Story, I would ask myself where does Princess Anastasia Romanova come from? What makes her tick? What life events shaped her? Empowered her? Scarred her? What are her secrets? And how do those things effect how she walks, talks, speaks, et cetera? The backstory is usually never discussed, but always exists in the thoughts of these characters, which ultimately informs their actions. The more specific the backstory, the richer, what actor’s call 'the life' of the character is.

 

This was great practice for when it came time to create Oliver and Mina’s backstories. I would just pretend they were characters I was going to play. I entered their minds the way I would when I played my characters on set. This might be a different approach than most traditional writers and it’s most likely why I wrote in first person. I was documenting the moments as if they were happening to me in real time. Later, I rewrote the novel into past tense to give the storytelling and pacing more flexibility.

 

Marie: Why was it important for you to write young people who are independent and self-reliant, not dependent on parental support to go after their goals?

 

Emilia: I honestly didn’t set out with the goal to write independent and self-reliant characters. I just wanted them to be interesting and, as it turns out, self-reliant people interest me. But I’m glad Oliver and Mina developed into the people they became because there are plenty of teenagers out there who are on their own and could use someone like Oliver to identify with.

 

Mina is actually very reliant on her mother for moral support when we first meet her. However, this novel begins during the part of her life when she starts to break free from that support and she ventures off to discover who she is and what she wants. She will have many hardships ahead. We get to follow her down that tumultuous road and witness her slay the dragons or succumb. Oliver, on the other hand, built himself up from the most terrible circumstances and found his own silver lining. He doesn’t have any family. He’s alone, therefore he’s independent out of necessity, not choice. I hope his story is inspirational to the youth who feel hopeless.

 

Marie: How did your own young adulthood prepare you to write this book?

 

Emilia: My time as a teenager was as dramatic and angsty as anyone else’s. Everyday there was drama, rumors, gossip, bullying. No matter how hard I tried to keep my head down, it felt as though it was inescapable. When I talked to my adult friends about their high school experiences, I came to understand that we all felt that way. You know, it’s funny ... as trivial as everything seems now, in the grand scheme of things some of those moments really did matter and did shape me into who I am today. The most painful moments became my biggest life lessons. I knew what I had to do to never feel that way again. I learned who I had to stay away from and who I had to gravitate toward. It wasn’t all bad, though; I had some great friends to get me through the tough parts. Those were the parts that were most similar to my life. Nyah was written based on a combination of a few of my friends and my sister. Lily was inspired by my mom.

 

Marie: What books and authors inspired you in your writing?

 

Emilia: The Stranger by Albert Camus because it challenged everything I ever knew or thought I knew about the hero of a story and made me feel so uncomfortable reading it.

 

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, not only for the revelation this novel brought to literature but also for the story behind writing it. Dostoevsky didn't write it because he wanted to, he wrote it out of necessity. He wrote what he knew, the conditions and ramifications of a sick, drunk, impoverished Russia.

 

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins because by the time 2008 rolled around, so much had already been written and said about a potential post-apocalyptic nation but somehow, Collins was able to put forth a fresh take on dystopia. I admire that very much. There is always more room for your voice, your perspective, your story.

 

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe because, again, it was very critically controversial. People didn't know how to feel about it. On the one hand, Achebe ended up writing it in English, the language of colonialism which caused disagreement amongst many African critics in regards to the ultimate message of the novel. On the other hand, this was a novel that went against most of what was written about African culture at the time. It showed European colonialism from a different perspective portraying Igbo life from the point of view of an African man, a rich and sophisticated culture with a deep history, language, and beliefs.

 

But some of the first books and authors who inspired my love for storytelling were The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, and Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson.

 

Marie: Great! It was such a pleasure to have you here today.

 

Emilia: For myself as well. Thank you for inviting me!

 

Marie: Of course!

Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age guest article here.

Hi, readers! We have a real treat in store for you today, a spotlight on a book by Sophia Zaccaria, quite a talented author!    
    
We wish you lots of success on your young adult fantasy novel! 
   
Let's check out the details, shall we?

About the Book

Here is the book blurb for Fairest.  

Flirting with evil will be the ruination of her soul.

Goodness is much easier to corrupt than it is to hold on to. And for Natasha, a woman reeling from the pain of losing a loved one, evil is all the more tempting. Luck or misfortune spirits Natasha away to the foreign Court of Velaris in a quest for a suitor but instead secures her a place among Velarian royalty. Craving revenge, Natasha makes use of this opportunity to enact her plans as she navigates the lush court where aristocracy is a double-edged blade. But when she befriends her soon-to-be husband Mikhail, the Beloved Prince, Natasha makes a deadly mistake. She captures the attention of the debonair Darkling Prince; a villainous man meant to ascend the Velarian throne.

Enamored, the Darkling Prince charms Natasha, and soon the two feel a forbidden emotion captivate their stoic, scabrous hearts. But with the existence of a violent rebel group capable of cataclysmic damage, there is little time for love. With war brewing amidst the enigmatic kingdom, the royals must become all the more cunning and devious if they wish to triumph over their adversaries. What draws the insidious line between right and wrong when it comes to a battle of survival? For Natasha, nothing is too far, too light, too bloody, too evil.

Soon, the only reflection Natasha sees in her mirror's beveled glass is that of an Evil Queen. Often, the cost of survival is more frightening than the beasts of death. But that's what gives the Queen of Shadow's beauty an edge: she wears her darkness adorned about her throat like the grandest of all diamonds, ebony, and bloodred in shade.

Release Date:  July 18, 2021

Genre:  YA Fantasy, Some Romance Elements

 

Sounds like an intriguing read here!

 

Purchase Links:

Goodreads     Amazon

Universal Reader link:  https://books2read.com/u/4Xreo9

 

Sophia is also giving us a peek at this book today!

Readers, here’s an excerpt...

Danilo’s blood drips mockingly from his mouth, a terrifying scarlet smile. “I think you know just how this has to end, my scarlet queen.”

Crimson blood slid down my alabaster skin as I innocently said, “With your heart on a platter for me to feast upon?” I tilted my head in consideration. “Or shall you prefer I maul your heart first, bathe in your blood, then feast upon your heart like the delicacy it is not?”

In a pique of rage, he snarls and lashes forward, his sword slicing into my left arm, reopening an old wound.

Attack. Attack!

In urgent, coaxing shouts like whispers and tears had become lovers and found their voices together, the alluring phantom’s voice said, Evil is to show mercy when death is inevitable. Instantly enraged with some ancient chaotic fervor, the adrenaline of the brawl masked my pain, and I lunged forward. Kill! Like before, I listened to the enigmatic voice. And now, I became a predator—lethality incarnate bent on only one goal: to kill.

I’d been depriving myself of revenge. I would do so no longer.

Ice exploded through my veins, heralding the darkness.

Drawing on a modicum of power, I summoned my darkness and turned the air around me to shadows of obsidian. Danilo deserves no mercy. At this thought, the shadows around me grew until I felt its edges touch the netherworld itself. My magic surged forward, and I twisted it into an imitation of the Velarian dungeons. Horrified, Danilo watched in morbid fascination as shadows reminiscent of a cell’s smothering walls surrounded him. “Don’t.” His voice was sharp with emotion, and a slow smile lifted my mouth.

“Don’t what? I mean you no harm.” No physical harm. The shadows merely created a mirage, a general impression of shades from dull greys to dried-out reds turned burgundy. Paired with chains and imposing spiked bars that seemed to asphyxiate its prisoner, my mirage was perfect. But not inescapable. If he had enough sense of mind, he could swipe his hand through the shadows, and the nightmare would disappear. But fear is the mind’s warden, and now it is Danilo’s prison. Danilo’s face contorted in a grave expression of pain. “S—stop.” I laughed caustically in the wake of his fear, remembering that a few hours ago, Danilo had stabbed me.

“Stop?” I parroted a moment later, stalking close enough to notice the tiny hairs on his neck standing straight while he trembled. “That word meant nothing to you then. It meant nothing when I begged. Nothing when I pleaded with you to show mercy.” I curled my fingers, analyzing his reaction to the prison encircling him. “Why should it matter to me now?” A mutinous smile of antipathy curled his mouth.

“I awoke you. Without me, you would still be the obedient Darkling Queen, nothing more than an antinome. I unleashed your darkness, and I will never leave you, even if I am gone.” No, it’s a lie, but . . . Danilo’s analysis is all the more poignant when I take into account the scene: Danilo, the victim, and me, the aggressor and villain. Embittered by this, I mocked, “Well, I want to know who we are without each other! I want to know if I’ll recover that broken piece of innocence you STOLE!” Collecting my magic for a finishing blow, I reared my arms back, aiming . . . Wait, whispered the feminine phantom. Against my better judgment, I did, reining in my power until it swirled in inky clouds and fulminated against the restraint. Keep him alive. Trust me, you’d rather make a wicked deal now than kill.

Intrigued by the suggestion, I scrutinized Danilo thoughtfully, my already opalescent complexion turning entirely statuesque as I stared down my enemy. Finally, I spoke, “I wish to have my curiosity satiated. To know what my temperament will be without you whispering evils in my ear.”

Intriguing!

So, what are other readers saying about this book?

☆☆☆☆☆

"Great dark fairytale!! I have a soft spot for villains. I always wonder what their backstories are and what caused them to become the bad guy. So, when I read the blurb for Fairest, I knew that I needed to read it. It is not very often where the origins of the Evil Queen from Snow White are explored!! I am glad that I did because this book had me glued to the pages.

Fairest tells the story of Alina (aka Natasha) and her rise/eventual metamorphosis to the Evil Queen. It was a sad but fascinating tale. A fantastic read." – Read with Me Blog, Amazon

Wow, it sounds like quite a read!

Get your copy of this YA fantasy novel today, readers! Or, add it to your Goodreads bookshelf or BookBub!

Thanks for letting us know all about this book, Sophia! :)

About the Author:

Sophia Zaccaria is the author of her debut novel, Fairest, a retelling of Snow White, and is a massive fan of the classic Grimm fairy tales. As a young Canadian writer, Sophia is always looking to weave mystical and magical things into her stories. Sophia enjoys kickboxing, jogging, and visiting eighteenth-century Gothic scenes to appease her muse's darker side when she is not writing. You can discover her linguistic adventures by following her on Instagram @thesophiazaccaria and Inkitt.

Author Links:

Inkitt     

Instagram

Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age guest article here.

My guest today is Jessica Tornese. Hello, Jessica! Welcome to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure to have you here.  

Can you tell us a little about your books? Where can we get them?

I have a series out about time travel. Linked Through Time and Lost Through Time are available now. As of right now, Destroyed In Time will be the next title. Linked Through Time and Lost Through Time are on Solstice, Amazon, Barnes&Noble, Smashwords and Kobo.

Is there anything that prompted your books? Anything that inspired you?

I grew up with a large family. My Dad was one of eleven children, so I have endless tales of cousins and extended family. My Dad’s stories always stuck with me because he grew up with nothing. Absolutely nothing! He did not have indoor plumbing until high school- in Northern Minnesota! I admire him and wanted to keep his stories alive. A lot of what happens to Kate in “Linked” are true events from my dad’s childhood. Lost Through Time mentions a disaster that actually occurred in my home town in 1910. I guess I just really like to keep the stories of our ancestors from dying out. They were true, hard core Americans fighting just to make a living.

So, when did you know you wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?

I didn’t really start writing books until a few years ago, but I have always loved writing and reading. They go hand in hand, I think.

Do you have any favorite authors? 

Absolutely! I love Diana Gabaldon, Francine Rivers, Jodi Piccoult, Kristin Hannah and Phillippa Gregory.
 

Do you write in a specific place? Time of day?

I just plug away at my computer whenever I get a spare moment. Three kids under the age of 10 in all kinds of activities keeps me hopping. Which means I am usually writing at ten at night!

Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers. Any advice?

I would definitely say to reread your story many times, and to put it away for a week or two before taking it out to read it once more before submission. It’s easy to get burnt out on something you’ve written and lose sight of what the goal is. I also try not to look at bad reviews, unless they offer a critique that is genuine instead of just an opinion. You can’t please everyone out there and sometimes people can be just plain mean. If it is your passion and something you believe in, then it’s golden. 

Here is the blurb for Linked Through Time.  

Fifteen year old Kate Christenson is pretty sure she’s about to experience the worst possible summer at her grandparent’s farm in rural Baudette, Minnesota. Without cable, cell phones, or computers, Kate is headed for total isolation and six tedious weeks of boredom. Until the storm.

A freak lightning accident has Kate waking up in 1960. But she is not herself. She is the aunt she never met, but has eerily resembled her entire life. Thrust into living a dirt poor, rural farm life, Kate struggles to make sense of her situation- a boyfriend with a dark side, a “townie” who steals her heart, and the knowledge that 1960 is the very summer her aunt drowns in the local river. 

Even with every precaution, Kate cannot stop fate, and an unexpected twist adds to her dilemma. To her horror, Kate finds out firsthand her aunt’s death was not an accident or a suicide, but something much, much worse.

Here's an excerpt from Linked Through Time. 

Steering carefully into the gravel drive of the Rapid River parking lot, I swore under my breath as the bike’s rear wheel slid on loose gravel. Trying to right the bike too quickly, I ended up swerving sharply to the left and crashing into the brush at the side of the gravel lot. Flying over the handlebars, I landed in a patch of overgrown weeds, my knee striking a rock hidden in the ground. Pain radiated from my knee, paralyzing me for a moment. I lay sprawled face first in the grass, breathing in the smell of earth and dry grass, cursing myself and everything on the planet.

Emotions overwhelmed my frazzled, fragile mind and I let loose with a string of profanities that would have definitely earned me a whipping. Rubbing my throbbing knee, I groaned.

Lightning flashed and the breeze picked up as if on cue, sending the cattails above my head into an agitated dance. 

With great effort, I stood and flexed my leg. I could feel the slightest trickle of blood dripping a warm path down my shin. Perfect, I grimaced. Can anything else possibly go wrong tonight?

My vision had adjusted slightly to the moonless night, but I still had to partly feel my way to the place Travis and I spent the evening. Pushing through the brush, I couldn’t help but sense that uneasy, creepy feeling that comes from wandering in the dark, as though eyes watched you and monster hands waited to grab at your feet. My heart pounded loudly in my ears, the tingling creep of fear working its way from my head down through my limbs. I forced myself to keep my eyes forward, ignoring the nagging feeling that someone or something watched me from the shadows of the rocky shore. 

Limbs of the interlocking pines poked and prodded my bare arms as I threaded my way through the trees. The pounding of the rapids had increased with the coming of the storm; the wind tossed the water upon the rocks, sending spray high into the air. 

When I broke through the tree line, I stood mesmerized by the awesome power of the roaring water. It looked as if the rapids were fighting to break free of their rocky channel, its watery fingers washing over the rocks, reaching far down the wall, only to withdraw and try again. 

Above the churning waters, a simple two-lane bridge hung defiantly in the air, its thick concrete arches planted firmly around the dangerous rocks. Suddenly, a semi loaded with logs thundered across the bridge overhead; its headlights lighting up the darkness for a matter of seconds. I used the momentary help to break my gaze from the water and search the outer banks for my sweater. 

A flicker of movement amidst the trees caught my line of sight, and I focused in on a ring of pines to my right; the very place Travis and I had been a few hours earlier. 

“Travis?” I called out hopefully, thinking he had remembered to retrieve my sweater.

Universal Purchase link:  https://books2read.com/u/bMww6X

 

Here is the blurb for Lost Through Time. 

“There never was a body, you know.”

Such is the bizarre statement from Gran only weeks after Kate has returned from an accidental time traveling incident, surviving certain death…twice. Capturing Sarah’s killer seemed to be the reason for Kate’s disappearance, but Gran believes otherwise.

Learning of Kate’s power to time travel loosens memories and desires Gran has long since buried. Gran is set on finding Sarah, who she believes never died the night Dave Slater threw her in the river, but instead, went back in time through the Rapid River portal. With rudimentary research and analysis, Gran thinks she has unlocked the secrets to controlling the time traveling link that she and Kate share with their ancestors and she plans to use Kate to bring Sarah back.

When Kate agrees, she is shocked to find out that in the more aggressive form of time travel, she doesn’t become Sarah, but trades places with her, sending Kate to Baudette, Minnesota in the year of 1910, and Sarah ahead to the year 2000.

Baudette’s catastrophic 1910 fire and typhoid epidemic are the least of Kate’s worries once she discovers what has happened. Her chances of a return trip are thwarted with the struggle just to survive, and Sarah, reliving her lost childhood in the ease of current day life, decides to never return to the past, leaving Kate to suffer the life she has left behind. 

Gran is torn- get rid of the daughter she has dreamed of finding for four decades, or rescue the precious granddaughter who risked everything for her selfish dream? And to what lengths will Sarah go to destroy any chances of Kate coming back? Will Sarah succeed in severing the link?

And an excerpt from Lost Through Time.

I felt the exact moment my heart stopped beating in my chest.

“Where’s Mary?” I said, trying to keep the alarm from rising in my voice. The group looked around, stunned.

Vivie handed Gracie to James. “She was just here. I swear it.”

Frantic, we strained to see across the wagon bridge into Spooner. The brilliant blond tresses of Mary’s head were nowhere to be seen.

Ruth spoke up. “That man took her to the depot.”

I stared hard at Ruth, trying to process the words, but not understanding. “What man?” I said, confused. There were dozens of people crossing the bridge rushing in all directions. Like ants on a collapsing anthill, the twin towns were alive with chaos, the people coming and going with what looked like little purpose. “What man?” I said again, the panic seizing my voice and pushing it another octave higher. I grasped Ruth’s arms in a painful, panicked grip.

Ruth shrank away, afraid I might lash out. “I don’t know. I was watching John. Aunt Vivie told me to watch John.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I had John,” she insisted again, afraid of taking the blame.

“What did the man look like? What was he doing?” I demanded.

“He was that man from the backyard. The big man who touched Mary’s hair. I heard him say he could help her run faster. For her to take his hand.”

Sickness heaved inside and I clenched my jaw.

“You were getting sick over the bridge,” Ruth accused. “You weren’t helping at all! Mary couldn’t keep up and she was crying!”

Vivie reached out and gripped my shoulders. Without saying a word, we stared hard into each other’s eyes, the truth of the situation passing between us as though we were speaking aloud. McGraw had bided his time, watched us from afar and waited for a weak moment. He couldn’t possibly know the danger he faced. Was it a ploy? Would he really take Mary? Or was he just trying to get me alone to give chase and play his twisted game of revenge?

“I’ll go,” Vivie said, the sacrifice evident in the firm line of her mouth. “You can’t fall for his trap, Kate. He won’t do anything to me.”

“No,” I argued. “Too dangerous. If something happens to you, then Gran will never be born, and then, neither will I.”

Universal Reader link:  https://books2read.com/u/mq11y1

 

Author Bio

Jessica was recently voted Solstice Publishing’s 2012 Author of the Year!

Jessica Tornese’s debut novel, Linked Through Time, was inspired by her home town Baudette, MN. She graduated from high school there and continued her education at Minnesota State University – Moorhead where she earned a degree in education. She spent several years coaching in the Junior Olympic volleyball program in Minnesota as well as the junior varsity team for Lake of the Woods High School in 2010.

Her favorite hobbies include reading, scrapbooking, playing volleyball, and extreme outdoor sports like caving, ziplining and white water rafting. Jessica is also active in her church and has run several Vacation Bible School programs and Sunday school programs. She enjoys working with kids of all ages!

She hopes to finish her Linked trilogy soon, and continue writing. Recently, she self-published her first juvenile fiction book for kids online. (see M&M Twins cover below)

Jessica is married and has three children. Her family recently relocated to a small town in south Florida.

Links:

http://www.amazon.com/Lost-Through-Time-ebook/dp/B009ZUKKR4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1365111338&sr=1-1&keywords=lost+through+time

http://www.amazon.com/Linked-Through-Time-Jessica-Tornese/dp/1477570799/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1365111662&sr=1-1&keywords=linked+through+time

Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Linked-Through-Time/392292227468460?fref=ts

Twitter- @jltornese

Blog/Website- http://www.jessicatornese.com

Amazon Author Page- https://www.amazon.com/Jessica-Tornese/e/B008LUYA66

Universal Reader Link-  https://books2read.com/u/bWGGV1

Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age blog article here.

My guest today is KateMarie Collins. Hello, KateMarie! Welcome to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure to have you here today.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out? Where can we get it? 

My new book is titled Mark of the Successor. It's about a young woman, Lily, who finds out her entire life was a lie. She has to find her inner strength to break free of how she was raised and be who she wants to be, over what others demand of her. It hasn't released yet, but we're hoping for sometime in May or June of 2013. Once it's out, you can get it via Solstice Publishing's website (www.solsticepublishing.com), and it should also be available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble's websites.

Is there anything that prompted your latest book? Something that inspired you? 

I belonged to an online writing group where we did challenges every week. Someone would put a topic out, and we'd write whatever our take on it was. This particular week, the challenge was a known unknown. I wrote a small story about a small child seeing a school bus for the first time. But then Lily would not shut up! I had to keep writing about her until the story was complete. The challenge part is actually the prologue in the book.

Great! So, when did you know you wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?

I've always been creative, even though I can't draw a straight stick figure without a ruler. Where I grew up, though, things like being published were reserved for 'other people', not me. By the time I finished high school, I saw my talent as little more than being able to bs my way through the essay portion of a test. Five years ago, something inside me unlocked the muse I'd kept caged for all those years. I started to write, and it scared me. For the first time I could recall, I liked what I wrote. Once the muse was out, though, she refused to go back inside. 

Do you have any favorite authors? 

Nick Pollotta, Stephen Boyett, David Eddings, and Patricia Kennelly-Morrison are people I will always read. Mr. Pollotta is the only author that'll make me laugh aloud while I'm reading. The others have this sense of realness to their writing. 

Do you write in a specific place? Time of day?

I've got an office space in our house. I've got to get the right music in the stereo first. Normally, I do a lot of my writing when my kids are at school and the hubby's at work. I can crank the stereo, ignore the telemarketers (yeah for caller i.d.!), and let things flow. 

Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers. Any advice?

Don't give up. Yes, you're going to get rejections. We all do. It's part of the business. If you get any feedback from a publisher or agent, take it to heart. It's not a good feeling to be told no, but be open to analyzing the story if something's brought to your attention. None of us ever start with the perfect manuscript after one draft.  

Here is the blurb for Mark of the Successor.

Dominated and controlled by an abusive mother, Lily does what she can to enjoy fleeting moments of normality. When a break from school only provides the opportunity for more abuse at home, the sudden appearance of a stranger turns her world even bleaker. Disappearing without a trace, he has left a lingering fear in Lily. His parting words to her mother, “Have her ready to travel tomorrow,” is something her mind refuses to accept.

Running away is the only answer. But before Lily can execute her plan, a shimmering portal appears in her room. Along with two strangers who promise to help keep her safe. With time running out, she accepts their offer for escape and accompanies them into a brand new world. A world in which she is the kidnapped daughter of a Queen, and the heir to the throne of Tanisal.

Can she find her own strength to overcome both an abusive past and avoid those who would use her as a means to power?

Here's an excerpt from Mark of the Succesor. 

PROLOGUE

 

"But why do I have ta go, Mama?" Tears streamed down Lily's cheeks.

Mama bent down, enfolding her in a tight embrace. "It not my choice, Lily. Them folk down the road, the ones that keep tryin’ to talk us into going to church with them, they did call important folk. Them think they knows more than I do."

"No one knows more than you do, Mama!" Lily pulled back a little, wiping at the tears.

"You just remember that, Lily, when them teachers tell you something different!" Mama straightened up. "Now, you go down to the end of the driveway. There goin’ to be someone come pick you up. You be brave, now. I be here when you come back."

Lily knew better than to try and kick up rocks or dirt on the walk to the main road. Mama didn’t like that. She got mad at the delivery man one day, even got the shotgun down when he drove too fast. Told him to go slow and stop making the dust kick up or she'd shoot him.

The end of the drive loomed ahead. A small wooden shed with a bench, open on one side, shone bright in the morning sun. It was newly built, the yellow pine still had the fresh cut look to it.

Lily waited next to it, not knowing what it was for.

A low rumble reached her ears, slowly growing in volume. Lily quickly checked her

raven black hair, making sure it was arranged in the way Mama liked. Mama didn't like the back of her neck showing for some reason. If anyone else saw it, Lily would go to hell, Mama told her.

A strange thing came rolling down the road. It was huge! Lily's green eyes bulged in

terror as it lumbered toward her. It was yellow, with bright glowing eyes below a dark forehead. Or was that a mouth? Black smoke bellowed from behind, reeking like sulfur and coal. She swallowed hard as the great beast pulled up, screeching to a halt in front of her.

A door opened at the side. Lily glanced up, and saw a long row of windows revealing other young folk trapped inside. A set of black stairs led up. A man sat at the top of them. He was looking at her, expectantly. One huge hand rested on a large black wheel. The other held the handle of some shiny device. Mama said the reason men had such big hands was so they could hit girls harder when they didn't obey their Mamas.

"C'mon, sweetheart. I haven't got all morning. Got more kids to pick up." 

Lily took a deep breath and slowly mounted the steps. The creature was full of seats. Lots of other kids stared at her like she was a freak. She stopped, panic rising in her.

"Find a seat, sweetheart. I can't move until you do." The voice made her jump.

Remembering what Mama had said about making men happy or they beat you, she slid into the closest empty seat. The black material felt hot.

The creature lurched as it moved forward, making her slam into the back of the seat.

Author Bio

Born in the late 60's, KateMarie has lived most of her life in the Pacific NW. While she's always been creative, she didn't turn towards writing until 2008. She found a love for the craft. With the encouragement of her husband and two daughters, she started submitting her work to publishers. When she's not taking care of her family, KateMarie enjoys attending events for the Society for Creative Anachronism. The SCA has allowed her to combine both a creative nature and love of history. She currently resides with her family and three cats in what she likes to refer to as "Seattle Suburbia".

Website: http://katemariecollins.wordpress.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/KateMarie-Collins/217255151699492?ref=ts&fref=ts
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DaughterHauk
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/KateMarie-Collins/e/B008I67BBE/

Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age blog article here.

My guest today is KC Sprayberry. Hello, KC! Welcome to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure to have you here.

Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out? Where can we get it? 

Softly Say Goodbye is a story about one teen’s determination to make a difference in her high school, to stop underage drinking. She jumps into this with all her heart because she feels it’s wrong for a small number of students to intimidate the rest. Little does she realize her quest can cause heartbreak, but it does not once but three times. Still, she persists. Softly Say Goodbye released in ebook format in October 2012 and in paperback January 2013. It’s available at Amazon. 

Links:

Universal Reader Link:  https://books2read.com/u/4XrLEN

Solstice Publishing:  https://www.solsticeempire.com/products.aspx?categoryid=442

Is there anything that prompted your latest book? Something that inspired you? 

Several things prompted Softly Say Goodbye. The characters jumped into my head, their lives, their dreams, what makes them happy or sad, but without a reason for a story. Then I saw a Facebook status that kicked me in the backside, started the story. Finally, I heard the song "Here We Are" by Breaking Benjamin, and the full story unfolded. But it wasn’t as easy as writing it out. Softly Say Goodbye went through six major rewrites before it became the tale it is today.

So, when did you know you wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?

Writing has always excited me. I absolutely loved working over my essays for English class, spent most of my homework time on them. Getting a diary at thirteen gave me another opportunity to jot down my thoughts and ideas. This evolved to an interest in creative writing, but I didn’t really get into this passion full time until I moved to Georgia.

Do you have any favorite authors?

Several. I love Penny Estelle’s fresh perspective on problems, especially in At What Price? Robert Jordan hooked me on his Wheel of Time series back in 1991, and I just finished the final book, co-written by Brandon Sanderson after Mr. Jordan’s untimely death in 2007. Stephen King is another favorite. All of his work is good, but 11/23/63 was especially good.    

Do you write in a specific place? Time of day? 

I have an office, and I spend most mornings in there, and some afternoons – depending on where I am in a project. I work best in the early hours of the morning, when it’s peaceful and my teen isn’t blasting his music. However, when it comes to editing, it’s the backside firmly planted on the sofa with a legal pad, pen, highlighter, and my current work in a binder. I’ve found there are less distractions there.

Are there any words you’d like to impart to fellow writers? Any advice?

Read first, whatever you can get your hands on. We have a large personal library, nearly 1400 books. I’ve always been a reader and am more so now. Then never give up. Writing is not only telling a story well, it’s also staying with the constant rejections, the feeling you’ll never be published. Don’t stop because a publisher couldn’t find a place for your work – keep on submitting. And while you are, work on the next project, pen short stories and find homes for them, track down anthologies that might fit your work. But never give up.

Here is the blurb for Softly Say Goodbye.

Erin Sellers, an eighteen-year-old high school senior, hates teen drinking. She and her three friends – Bill, her guy, Shari and Jake - decide to use Twitter to stop a group, the Kewl Krew, from using their high school as the local bar. But the members of this group are just as determined to stop anyone from messing up their fun. Despite veiled threats to her safety, Erin continues her crusade. 

To make matters worse for her, the stress of school and extra curricular work mounts and suddenly, shockingly, booze-fuelled tragedy strikes. Erin is now under greater pressure as she spends all hours to produce a mural and other work to commemorate the death of a teen friend. Bill, Jake and Shari support her in all this...  

But more tragedy lurks nearby… until it’s time to softly say goodbye. 

And at last, we’re giving you a sneak peek of Softly Say Goodbye. Enjoy!

The sound of liquid gurgling and a thunk distracts me as my art teacher, Mr. Janks, says he has a major announcement. An overwhelming urge prods me to confront the offender, but she'll deny my accusation, even though everyone in the vicinity knows she just chugged some vodka. 

Do it! My hands clench into fists. Tell Laura to quit! 

High school drunks totally piss me off. The urge to deal with the offender overcomes common sense. I start to turn around to give her a piece of my mind but stare in shock at my teacher instead. 

A week before Valentine's Day, the most romantic day of the year, I want to throw my books into the nearest trashcan and run until my legs give out. Here I am, sitting in my art class, and Mr. Janks announces we have to do a term project but not just any term project. Oh no! We have to develop a major project like cleaning up the Rec Center's playground and painting a mural on the huge cylinders kids climb all over. Worse, I swear I heard something about a video. Who has time to do all that and a video? 

“Tell me Mr. J didn't say that,” I cry. 

The now protesting students echo my feelings. The new issue drives all other thoughts out of my head. Oh yeah, I heard right, and the timing is rotten. 

Tuck Amstead rolls his eyes and glances at me. “Total pits, Erin.” 

“Maybe we heard wrong?” I offer. 

“Mr. Janks, we can't possibly do this,” Tiana Bolton protests. “It'll…it'll… You're asking us to give up all of our free time and ignore studying for our EOCs. And you want us to show you what we did on the same day we take the EOCs!” 

Boy, does she have that right. EOCs, end of course exams, make up a significant portion of our final grade. To top it off, we also have to take the state's graduation test — a mind-numbing horror challenging us to remember every single thing we have ever learned since our very first day at Landry High School. The idea of planning and executing a major art project due at the same as those dreaded tests gives me the worst scary feeling of my life. 

“Why can't you do like everyone else?” I ask. “This is worse than impossible.” 

“This is my EOC, Erin.” Mr. Janks shakes his head. “You saw the syllabus when you started the class last fall.” He stares at each student, all twenty of us, for a heartbeat. “All of you signed the syllabus, and so did your parents. No excuses. Now—” 

“But we have to do all our other studying,” Tiana cries, interrupting him. “When will we have time for your project?” 

Slender, sweet, and conflicted, Tiana's cap of brandy brown hair frames her porcelain complexion. Oh, so jealous here. She never has to worry about her hair bushing up on a humid day or the sun giving her freckles like I do with my shoulder-length red hair and uber-pale complexion. Even her eyes drive me nuts. Instead of green like mine, which everyone says look like the local pond's algae, Tiana's are gray. She has more than high school to worry about. Her mom won a court decision only a week ago, forcing Tiana to visit her in prison. The timing can't be worse. The first visit is the same day as the Valentine's Day Dance. Poor Tiana not only has to miss the most romantic dance of the year, she has to listen to her mom grouch about how a judge forced her into a plea deal that keeps her in prison for ten years. The dummy never should have driven when she was drunk. The family she hit is still recovering from their injuries. 

“You also have a long term art project,” Mr. Janks says with what sounds like very little patience for our issues. “Now, I have a few things to say about the project since it sounds like most of you can't remember what you signed last August. It will be a major part of your final grade. Just like all your other EOCs.” 

Shocked beyond belief, I scribble what he says in a desperate effort to make sure I pass this very important, blown off exam. Who ever thought I, Erin Sellers, would panic at the thought of an art project? I churn out assignments in this class without a second thought. Art is my passion, the one thing I live for, the way I relax. With everything else going on in my life, and all the issues at school, I don't need an announcement I never expected. 

Usually, I love school. No wasted moments pass before I dive into the planning sessions with my crew for all major projects, the people I share each and every secret with. This time, I'm alone except for Tiana, and she sounds like she wants nothing to do with art. 

“Why can't we just do what we usually do?” she asks. “It's not like we'll ever use art again.” 

Oops! Major faux pas. Boy, is she about to hear it. He lives and breathes art in every form. 

“All of you were included in this class for your artistic abilities.” His voice sounds colder than a late January snowstorm. “I expect you to do this assignment or join me for summer school while the rest of your friends enjoy their vacation, Ms. Bolton. Now, if you're through whining, I need to finish explaining this assignment before the bell rings.” 

Whoa! Mr. Janks never talks like this. He is far cooler than any other teacher, and he dresses the starving artist part. Shoulder-length blond hair with a few gray streaks highlights a thin face. Cheekbones stick out under his super-pale blue eyes, and stubble on his chin makes him look so laid back. Until this moment, I've never heard him tell a student off like he just did. 

“Yeah.” Tiana slumps down in her seat. “Whatever. Like I'll have time.” 

How I wish for the old days, when nothing got her down. She went into a total slide after her mom went to jail for the DUI. My crew and I want to help, but her home life is such a bummer. Her dad smokes pot from the time he gets off work until he passes out around ten or eleven every night. And she has to deal with her mom's stupid remarks whenever the woman calls, and her dad's drug addiction, but she is so cool about staying off the stuff herself. 

“Does everyone understand I won't tolerate any reason for avoiding this project?” he asks. 

His voice warms up a little. Almost like going from minus one to zero on the thermometer. Like me, the rest of the class sits quietly with pencils or pens poised above notebooks. No one wants to piss him off any more than he already is. 

“Fine.” He searches the top of his desk as a question occurs to me. 

“Uh, Mr. Janks?"

“Yes, Erin.” No patience in his voice, just a lot of suppressed anger, like he thinks I'm about to make trouble.

No one, but no one, can accuse me of causing problems on purpose. If anything, I go out of my way to avoid notice and trouble, except telling off any teen drinking booze. The urge to say “it doesn’t matter” almost makes me change my mind, but I really have to know something. 

“Will we have to get permission from the city to do this project? I mean, you used the Rec Center as an example. We can't just go in and do what we want unless someone approves it. Right?” 

“You're right.” His voice softens. “Thank you for mentioning that.” He holds up a folder. “I have a list of places the city wants cleaned up. Mayor Flaggins agreed to let you kids—” 

The whole room erupts into moans and groans. None of us like someone calling us kids, not with most of us already eighteen. 

He laughs instead of getting upset. “Sorry. All right, class, here's the list. I'll call out a location, and the first person with their hand up gets it. I have enough locations for everyone to work alone, except one. Two of you will have to share.” 

I sit back and go over possible locations in my mind. One sticks out. The park across from the police station on Main Street. There's a fantastic in-ground fountain for kids to play in during the summer and a bunch of concrete benches around it with walking paths and short walls. The fountain has a huge jet in the center and shoots water in a long stream over the nearby area. It also has smaller jets with bubbling water around the basin. But it's so plain, and the perfect place for a fantastic mural about living in a rural area. 

“The old Long John Silver's near the Red Foods,” Mr. Janks says. “Mayor Flaggins thought something related to farming there.” 

“Me!” Tuck waves his arm back and forth. “I have this fantastic idea. Maybe something including Jackson Valley and all the farms down there.” 

Wallis County has a lot of small farms, nothing more than five to ten acres for people to put in enough vegetables to feed their families and sell the rest at truck stands. Tuck's suggestion brings up a visual of a long winding road beside a creek with houses against small hills and open fields to either side. In the summer, during the height of growing season, it looks fabulous. 

“Okay, Tuck has the Long John Silver's.” Mr. Janks makes a note. “Let’s get on with the rest.” 

The list of places to decorate sounds boring, and like Mayor Flaggins wants free labor to clean up some pretty nasty parts of town. Yeah, the economy stinks, but why do we have to volunteer to do something the mayor can put people sentenced to community service on? 

“Okay, just two more,” Mr. Janks says, jerking me back to reality. “Next, the fountain near—” 

My hand shoots into the air, and I wave my arm harder than Tuck did. 

“Looks like Erin's hot for this one,” he says. “Okay, Erin. Want to share your idea?” 

“Not sure yet,” I say. “Something including kids and the fountain. Definitely green.” 

“Good.” He nods. “I like the idea of using green products. Now, last but not least is the Rec Center playground. Definitely a two-person job. Tiana?” 

“I guess.” She sounds less than enthusiastic. “But it's a huge job. I can't even think of a single thing kids will like there that won't take me hours and hours I don't have.”

A loud crack of gum snapping jerks everyone forward in their seats. My eyes roll, and I want to grab the gum-cracker’s “water” bottle and throw it out, preferably in another state. A drunk in class is bad enough, but a gum-chewing drunk makes me crazed. 

“I guess I have to bail out Tiana,” Laura Wiley says. “Whatever.” She buffs blood-red fingernails against her sweater. “This better not mess up my manicure.” 

The queen of the Kewl Krew checks in. Oh great! So not.

Author Bio

What a wonderful world it is to have books. Imagine one without imaginations devoted to giving children a place to discover new worlds, make friends, and see a wider view. That was my life until I learned to appreciate books as a child and now I work hard to share my stories with them. So many things interested me, so many adventures beckoned that I had no idea how to discover all of them at once. College brought dreams of photo/journalism but a diversion to the military took me to Europe for five years. Finally, after many years of putting it off, I took the plunge and committed those stories to paper at almost 40! Now over 50, I live in LaFayette, GA with my husband and youngest child, a teen. We also have a near human cat, Fireball.

Links

Website: www.kcsprayberry.com

Blog: http://outofcontrolcharacters.blogspot.com

https://www.amazon.com/author/kcsprayberry

 

Thanks again for visiting us, KC, on Writing in the Modern Age! Your book sounds great!

Check out our latest Writing in the Modern Age blog article here.