Radio Interview: Dawn Halliday/Print Interview: Sherry James and Cat Grant
Radio Interview: Dawn Halliday/Print Interview: Sherry James and Cat Grant
Interview: Nov 21, 2008
Don't miss this weeks podcasts from What's Hot in Romance. The Featured guests is author Dawn Halliday. Be sure to tune in every Monday night for the live broadcast from 9:30 - 10:30 pm est at Blog Talk Radio
That's right, What's Hot In Romance internet radio show is on Blog Talk Radio, where our host Cat Johnson has a full schedule of not to be missed romance authors in every genre. So please tune in tohttp://www.blogtalkradio.com/whats-hot-in-romance at 9:30 pm est.
Wildfire would like to welcome authors Sherry James and Cat Grant.
Sherry James
Julie: How long have you been writing? What inspired you to pick the pen up one day and create characters that capture the imagination?
Sherry: I started dabbling with writing as a kid, but it wasn't until (gulp) 1987 that I started writing my first romance novel with hopes of pursuing it as a career. At that time I was so green I didn't know squat. But what I did know, I'd learned from reading historical romance after historical romance. What inspired me to write is actually a combination of things. First, the books themselves. I loved being swept away to another time and place by the wonderful authors that I read. I wanted to do the same for readers, too. The second factor was a particular song that I was listening to while doing my daily walking routine. That song by Mannheim Streamroller started a story percolating in my head, and well, they haven't stopped brewing since. Third, an article on the appeal of romance novels appeared in our local newspaper. The article stated that if you had read any number of romance novels, you too, could write one. That was all the extra push I needed. I started writing and quickly found out that penning a full-length novel was a little more difficult than the article led me to believe. And of course, the article didn't even mention the trials and tribulations of the submission process. But I was hooked on writing by then and I couldn't help but stick with it through the good, the bad, and the ugly!
Julie: What is your writing process? Do you outline, fly by the seat of your pants or a combination of both?
Sherry: I really do a combination of the two. I need to outline and plot just enough to give me the skeleton of my story so I have something stable to work with. Then I like to fly by the seat of my pants and see what happens. I love to be surprised!
Julie: How do you choose the setting for your next book?
Sherry: Even though my first two books were romantic comedies, right now I'm focusing on writing western romances, so all of those books are set where you'll find sexy American cowboys. The story line will dictate if the book takes place on a ranch like the Rocky Creek Ranch in Eight Seconds, or at a rodeo in Cowboy Fling.
Julie: When you write, is atmosphere important? For example, do you use mood music or candles? Do you need complete quiet to concentrate?
Sherry: I do like to create a mood when I write, although I'm not always in the mood to create a mood! Sometimes I do need quiet, mainly when I'm revising and editing. But when I'm deep in the actual writing of the story, I do like to burn candles. I love to play music softly in the background—unless it's an action scene, then I'll turn it up! Each book I write has its own specific soundtrack or song that helps me identify with the story and evokes the emotions in me that I want to convey on paper.
Julie: Most people envision an author's life as being really glamorous. What's the most unglamourous thing that you've done in the past week?
Sherry: Muck horse stalls! That's the continuous unglamourous part of this writer's life. <VBG> But it's worth it. I love my horses!
Julie: Describe the space where you write.
Sherry: I do have an office on the second floor of our house, but the majority of my writing is done these days on my laptop computer. I like being free to write wherever my little heart desires, well. . . okay, to be honest, where I write is often dictated by the behavior of my kids! Being a mom to two younger, very active kids, I need to be mobile so the eyes in the back of my head have a full view of what's going on at all times. These days my office is pretty much left for the business side of writing.
Julie: What do you do when you aren't writing? Any hobbies or special interests that you can tell us about?
Sherry: You already know I'm a horse lover because I'm willing to scoop you know what! So of course, I love to ride. I'm also a big fan of rodeo and horse racing. And at my house we're all pretty big fans of Country singer Dierks Bentley, so I go to his concerts when I can. I also love GeorgeStrait! BTW, George was the inspiration for my hero, Lane Hart, in Cowboy Fling. Yum! I'm also a big Elvis Presley fan and he inspired my second Black Velvet Seductions book, Studs for Hire: Woman in Charge. If you're an Elvis fan, you'll like Woman in Charge. I also love to scrapbook. I think it's so important to preserve your family photos. They really are a window into your past. They are precious. Always cherish them. And of course, I love to read.
Julie:Dealing with writing deadlines can be a challenge. What do you do to cope with the stress?
Sherry: I ride those horses I'm always mucking stalls for! Seriously, riding is a great stress reliever. Getting out and having fun and enjoying nature really relaxes me. So does an occasional glass of chilled red wine. And chocolate is good. Chocolate is ALWAYS good.
Julie: Do you remember the first romance novel that you read?
Sherry: Yes, I do! Actually, it was the first one I bought, too, and I still have it on my keeper shelf today. It was a historical romance. The Heirs of Love by Barbara Ferry Johnson swept me away, hooked me on the romance genre, and started me on the path to my own writing career. Thank you, Barbara!
Julie: What's next for you?
Sherry: Well, a lot, I hope! But what I know for sure right now is that I will have a novella coming out in one of the 2009 Caveman Anthologies from Ellora's Cave. I don't know which volume yet, but keep an eye out for Eight Seconds! Devlin McCord, the hero of Eight Seconds, is a hunky professional bull rider who I wouldn't mind spending more than eight seconds with myself! I also hope to see Country Fling released in 2009. It's the sequel to Cowboy Fling, and I hope readers are anxious to find out if Dorie was as successful with her side of the sexual fantasy bet as her sister, Paige, was. I also have several other projects in the works as well. And I'll be doing a specialty workshop at the Romantic Times Book Lovers Convention next April in Orlando, FL, with my good friend and critique partner, Julie Miller. Whew. It's all so exciting!
A native Nebraskan, Sherry James spent her youth riding and writing, and all of those hours on the back of a horse gave her plenty of time to think up a slew of stories. The first book she wrote (at the tender age of 9) was three chapters long, with each chapter only being one page long, and was written from the point of view of a horse. Hmm. Imagine that!
A romantic at heart, Sherry was thrilled to discover the fictional world of historical romance novels. One day she decided to get serious about her writing and pursue it as a career. And guess what! She grew up to not only become a rodeo queen, but a published author as well. All that riding and writing paid off!
With a deep love and appreciation of books, Sherry enjoyed many years as an assistant manager for a Waldenbooks store, giving her valuable insight into the book world. These days she's a wife and mother. She rides when she gets the chance and can't imagine her life without horses. She is a founding member and past president of the Prairieland Romance Writers, and a longtime member of Romance Writers of America. She has more than 85 magazine and newspaper articles to her credit as well, and has won numerous writing awards.
Julie: How long have you been writing? What inspired you to pick the pen up one day and create characters that capture the imagination?
Cat: I've been scribbling stories since I was in grammar school. Becoming a published author is the only job I've ever really wanted. But it was only once I'd become disabled and unable to work outside my home that I decided it was time to give professional writing a shot. If it weren't for my incredibly supportive husband, I wouldn't be published now. He's the one who kept me going through five years of rejection.
Julie: What is your writing process? Do you outline, fly by the seat of your pants or a combination of both?
Cat: I'm a dyed-in-the-wool pantser. Outlining doesn't work for me -- in fact, trying to write down or talk out my story ideas ahead of time robs them of their magic. Then my inner critic takes over, and that's it. So I spend a lot of time working out my stories in my mind, so that I have a very solid idea of where I'm going before I start writing. Once the process is underway, things do shift around a bit, but by that point I've usually got a pretty firm handle on the story.
Julie: How much does reader reaction mean to you as an author?
Cat: Well, I've never received any fan mail, so I really couldn't say. All I know is, the two books I've published thus far have been best-sellers for my publisher, and people on my mailing list and Facebook keep asking when the next one's coming out. So I'm assuming they like my work!
But if you're asking if reader reaction influences what I write… no, not really.My work's called "erotic romance," but to be honest, I just think of them as novels. I know books have to have a label slapped on them so they'll sell, but the label of "erotic romance" carries a lot of baggage that I'm not entirely comfortable with. Sure, my books have sex in them, but they're not wall-to-wall sex. Naturally, when you're telling the story of an adult relationship, sex is going to enter the picture. But in my opinion, there should be more to "erotic romance" than just sex. So people who are looking for explicit, full-on sex scenes every five to ten pages will probably be disappointed in my books.
Julie: When you write, is atmosphere important? For example, do you use mood music or candles? Do you need complete quiet to concentrate?
Cat: I've gotten into the habit of taking my laptop out to the couch and writing late at night. My latest book was written almost entirely between the hours of 10 PM and 4 AM. I find that I do work better in peace and quiet. During the day, there are too many distractions.
Julie: What do you hope for your writing career in the next few years? Any goals that you have yet to obtain that you have set for yourself?
Cat: Ideally, I would love to be able to earn as much from my professional writing as I did from my old full-time job a few years ago. But of course, that's an extremely long-term goal.
My more immediate goal is to continue to write books that sell well for me and my publisher, and to build myself a good, solid readership base.
Julie:Do you work on multiple projects at the same time?
Cat: No, but I'm always thinking ahead to the next one. I've got two more books planned in my current "Courtland Chronicles" series.
Julie:What do you like to read? Do you stick to the romance genre, or do you read other fiction as well?
Cat: Actually, I've been reading a lot of non-fiction lately. This year's presidential election has sparked my interest in politics, so I've read a lot of political biographies and history.
As for fiction… well, I prefer not to read in my own genre. I don't want to be influenced by anyone else's work.
Julie:What do you do when you aren't writing? Any hobbies or special interests that you can tell us about?
Cat: At the age of (nearly) forty-nine, I'm finally learning how to cook!
Julie: What do you feel is the most important thing that a first-time author should know?
Cat: Don't let rejection get you down, because you're going to face a lot of it. Most of it will be completely demoralizing and utterly useless, but some of it will hold a kernel of truth. Part of growing as a writer is learning how to figure out which is which. The important thing is, keep going. Somewhere out there is an editor who will love your work and champion it. You just have to keep plugging away until you find that person. It took me five years!
Julie: What's next for you?
Cat: The third book in my "Courtland Chronicles" series will be out in February 2009. I'm currently planning two more books in this series. The next one will be about how my hero Eric Courtland married his wife Allison. This will be the third and last in a series of prequels to my first book, The Arrangement..
The final book will jump ahead ten years into the future. It'll deal with my ménage a trois, Eric, Nick and Ally, returning to the US after living abroad for the past decade, so that Eric can resume his political career. He ends up becoming the first openly bisexual president. I'm really looking forward to writing it.
I've been writing off and on ever since I was old enough to hold a pencil. I still remember my very first 'published' story, a Jonny Quest adventure I penned in sixth grade. My teacher liked it so much, she had one of the other students illustrate it. That other student went on to become a Hollywood horror-film director.
I've poked around in many different genres. I've written fan fiction for a number of different TV shows, tried my hand at horror and fantasy, but in the end I came back to what I enjoy most - writing about the intimate relationships between men and women, and how love doesn't always happen the way we expect.
Back in 2004, when I became unable to work outside my home, my incredibly supportive husband suggested that I turn this setback into an opportunity, and pursue my dream of becoming a published author. Several years - and untold buckets of sweat later - that dream's finally coming to fruition.
This story is rated 1 flames. Love scenes are not consummated, or if the love scenes are consummated details are not given
Lyssa gripped the silver cross fiercely, her eyes flicking from dark corner to bare carpet. The figure on the TV screen moved in her periphery and she jumped. This response to the barely seen confirmed her fears. The displacement, the wavery agitation she'd witnessed was no artifact of vision, no problem with her eyes. Something—besides her, besides the figures on the TV—was moving in the room.
It's real. Her eyes were responding to something, that isn't…quite…here.
Ignore it.
She clung to the cross like a totem, to ward off evil, her fingers so stiff and chill that they fought her efforts to bend them.
Again—there! A flicker of movement!
She jumped up, onto the couch, only it suddenly seemed far too close to the ground. Not nearly high enough to keep her distance. The only place higher in the dinky apartment was her old, metal-legged table. In desperation she straddled the gap, edging onto one of the chairs that were clustered around the table, finally edging onto the rubberwood top. It jiggled, but held. Safe… She hated herself in that moment—hated her fear, her susceptibility. The fear that gave It entry. That always gave things like this entry.
Ignore it, one psychic had said. Confront it, had commanded another. And always, there'd been the underlying spark of envy. It's a gift. Embrace it.
I'm cursed.
Her eyes filled, but it wasn't with wishwashy weak tears of sorrow or self-pity or angst. These were involuntary tears, that rose when the skin was so stiff with gooseflesh, and the terror so deep that her body couldn't cope. They were self-preservation coming to the fore; her anger rising to meet the challenge. "Go!" she shrieked. "Now!"
But the Thing didn't acquiesce to either her anger, or her commands. It remained, defiantly, growing in substance. She knew because it was no longer a silent enemy. It scuttled beneath her furnishings, scurrying out of sight.
Where?! In panic she watched, till her eyes ached. Stared until she realized what she was doing. She was playing the affirmation game—the effort to confirm that what she was seeing was real, had substance. Affirmation that she wasn't going mad—that it was merely her eyes leading her to hell once more, seeing with that other vision. She swallowed, hard. Don't look at it. A terrible thought: if you see it, really see it, it may seek you out.
But she didn't dare close her eyes. They were getting dry now, but something told her anything more than blinking would come at a cost—that any effort to look within, to gather her forces, to martial her inner strengths, would exact a price. The specter would take advantage of her lack of concentration and head her way.
I don't know what to do. She stood there, tight-jawed and wide-eyed on her kitchenette table, trying not to see what was racing through her room. Small, no bigger than a rat, the digits glistening with almost opalescent glimmers…
No! Running, racing, beneath her couch, behind the fridge—
Oh, dear God! "Help me!" Croaked, gasped, timorous. The prey, announcing its weakness. Oh, my God…oh, my God…oh, my God…
Digits. Fingers. It can't be There were body parts haunting her room.
And it was moving far too fast—in sudden scurries, like a mouse—dashing, leaping, darting here and there—only there was no trap she knew of to ensnare this beast.
Lyssa backed up against the wall, the table jiggling in complaint. The thing was beneath her perch. She could have gagged with terror.
It's only ectoplasm! It can't hurt you—!
Yet it had enough substance to shiver the tabletop as it moved slowly now, creeping, one finger at a time, up the table leg.
No, no, no! It would be on the tabletop, her leg…at her throat—NO!
Fight. Lyssa narrowed her eyes, and went into a crouch. Remember—it's fast. Stiff with tension, terror, adrenalin, she prepared herself for battle. No surrender!
She didn't dare voice it aloud. Instead, she bared her teeth. Feral. Fighting.
The downstairs buzzer sounded raucously through her small space. In that moment, the glistening digits gripping the table lip vanished, leaving only small circular stains of fingertips—like echoes after a scream—behind.
* * *
Jake pounded on the door, eyes tracing her speedy traversal down the steps, then stood there tensely as her shadow filled the glass. He jumped when she yanked open the door. She was half-crazed with fear. He knew. It was why he was here.
The woman, scarcely more than a girl, really, was pale, tense, wide-eyed. In the next moment she was either going to ridicule him, call the police, or give a sigh of relief. Jake hoped it was the latter. It took guts to bare himself this way. He would never have done it if things hadn't been urgent. He shuffled, embarrassed. "I sensed your vibes," he said gallantly.
That was the way he intended it, anyway. His embarrassment was eating him alive. It came out almost stuttered. Hardly the image he wanted to invoke of a conquering hero. He knew that at this point, a hero was what she needed.
"'Sensed my vibes'," she repeated. At least she wasn't calling the authorities yet. "Okay, what am I thinking now?"
"It doesn't work that way," he mumbled. This wasn't going well. Not well at all. She was about to slam the door in his face. Jake tossed caution to the winds and told her the truth. "That I'm cool, cute, and out of your reach," he blurted. He smiled then, apologetically, and shrugged. "Bit of a curse, y'know?"
Apparently, she did. Contrary to what he'd expected, she gripped the front of his shirt and tugged him inside, then took his hand and led him up the stairs.
"You don't do elevators?"
"Not in this building," she panted.
Okaaay… Not for the first time he wondered at the wisdom of coming here. Everything he'd sensed about her had seemed to indicate a woman in trouble. But then, some people brought trouble on themselves. What had seemed like a spontaneous act of bravery suddenly seemed foolhardy and hopelessly naive.
Nor was he the only one sounding naive. "I want company," she blurted. She seemed to realize then that "company" could imply any number of things that she really didn't want at all. Her sigh came from deep within. "I'm haunted," she said.
* * * If he could brag about reading minds, about "sensing her vibes", so could she—well, mention her ghost problems, that is. Maybe.
As long as we're being stupid. Stupid thing to drag a stranger up to her room.
Hookers do it all the time.
And, at the moment, Lyssa really didn't care who or what he was. He might just be a good guesser, or maybe the way she'd looked at his bod had given away her thoughts. What mattered most right now was the fact he was here. A timely presence. A living presence. Living body parts could surely outweigh dead ones.
"It's ESP," he was saying. "Some of us have it, and some of us don't."
"Have what?" She was distracted as hell, and chided herself for not listening.
"Some of us are psychic…It's—" He was obviously seeking the word. "—intrinsic to our being." He gazed at her hopefully.
"Riiiight." Lyssa shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm about as sensitive as a brick." She was lying, and a glance his way told her he knew it. His words had dispensed with any further revelations. Let him think that haunted comment was a joke. Calling her curse intrinsic was the same as saying she was doomed.
She hesitated, her key in the lock, unable to bring herself to turn it. It had been such a narrow escape, and she wavered, suddenly sure she was wrong. Psychic, be damned—it would take more than this man to rid her of her tormentor. That-that Thing had been gathering strength for days.
At that moment her companion rested a warm hand over her icy one. Lyssa sucked in a deep breath, steeled herself against the confrontation she knew was waiting, and opened the door.
* * *
The air was thick with the scent, the ozone stink of ectoplasmic residue. Jake recognized it, even though he didn't particularly want to.
I don't do ghosts. The whole idea of it filled him with trepidation. It'd be different if I weren't a believer.
That was something he couldn't help. He'd seen too much—experienced too much through other people's thoughts—to hoard much doubt when it came to psychic matters. He tried to remain skeptical, and did his best to retain objectivity, but it was hard going in the face of this woman's terror. On sudden impulse, he turned to her. "What's your name?" Stupid, really. An afterthought, coming far too late in their conversation. Still, it seemed to comfort her.
"Lyssa." His question had clearly come at the right moment, and she smiled a little tremulously in his direction. "Do you 'feel' anything?" she whispered.
"Only what you do," he admitted. "My talents don't extend to—"
"It's not a talent!" She snapped the words, then added quickly, "I'm sorry." Her eyes were filled with tears, and he recognized it as regret, rather than weakness. In that moment, he wanted to take her in his arms, to protect her against the evil which threatened her. It was evil, too. He'd already sensed that Lyssa had seen a lot, and some part of her didn't hesitate to label her adversary.
He followed her "I'm sorry" with an "And I'm Jake." He took her hand and held it tightly as she led him to the kitchen.
Perhaps it was some kind of synergy, or maybe she had merely let down her guard, feeling safe in his company. All Jake knew was that suddenly, chillingly…they were no longer alone.
The scratching scuttle of nails crept across the worn linoleum. Gooseflesh rose on Jake's arms and his nostrils flared. Every instinct was curling, coiling, urging him to seek higher ground. The terror was coming from her, from the woman at his side, but the sounds were real. Her eyes met his, wide and horrified. He knew what she was thinking: his presence was offering her no protection at all.
* * *
It's coming. Some part of her was folding in on herself with a desperation to flee. Now, her rash gesture in bringing this man here seemed the height of folly. He was an anchor, pinning her in place. She couldn't even protect herself—not if she had to protect him!
Lyssa tugged him toward the door, but the hand, the digits, were rapidly materializing, skittering in rapid spurts of movement, blocking the path. And Jake wouldn't go, wouldn't move… She whimpered, a panicky sound deep in her throat, like an animal caught in a trap…
"Trap it," Jake commanded, startling her.
He'd caught her thoughts—snared them somehow. She made her eyes turn back away from her adversary, and focused instead on his face.
"It's using you!" It was gasped, showing her the man wasn't exactly devoid of fear himself. She could only admire the way he was holding his ground. He could so easily have abandoned her. Instead, he was hanging in. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Pin it—" His teeth were gritted, beads of sweat on his brow despite the cold. He was fighting for her, in the only way he knew. The only way he could.
It was the bulwark she needed against the preternatural. Lyssa closed her eyes, and concentrated, fighting back her fear. In her mind, she pinned the hand in place, while the digits wriggled and fought capture. Panic trickled in, but Jake whispered, close to her ear, "You—can—do—this." The words were firm. Solid. Unwavering.
I can. Suddenly, she knew. And when Jake added, "Now dissipate it…into the void", it was already happening, in her head.
It's gone. Lyssa opened blue eyes into Jake's warm brown orbs. The man had lovely eyes.
He grinned. "I heard you thinking," he said.
And he was just what she needed—the yang to her yin, the catalyst to stir her to action. Jake was able to see in her what she could not.
He knew it, too. Knew that she needed him. Knew that there was something more, something right, in this meeting. As his strong arms embraced her, she melted against him. Thank you, she thought.
"You're welcome," he retorted, then bent his head to give her a kiss. He grinned. "Thought you needed that," he said.
N. D. Hansen-Hill writes fantasy, science fiction, paranormal, and horror novels, while her alter ego, Melody Knight, pens romantic prose. Whether horror novel or erotic novella, all ND's and Melody's books are suspenseful.
When she's not writing, ND oil paints, and now has work in 8 countries. She is also studying archeology, with the goal of one day doing contract archeology throughout the Pacific rim.
Her books are published widely, with 35 published or contracted by Linden Bay Romance, Cerridwen Press, The Lotus Circle, Five Star, Red Rose Publishing, Fictionwise, Drollerie Press, and Cyberwizard Productions.
