Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Guest Author Amanda Jayde and Dark Moon Rising
Welcome to the blog!
What is the title of your new book?
Its called Dark Moon Rising.
Where were you when you got your first book contract? Who did you tell?
I was home, it was a Saturday morning and I was vegging the morning away instead of doing housework. I had just finished checking facebook and remembered I hadn’t checked my email so I decided to do that before getting off the couch and taking a shower – I was going to spend the afternoon out with my family. When I saw the email congratulating me I read it then reread it and reread it again, by this point I had received my fair share of rejections that anything else was just too unbelievable.
The first thing I did was call my mother. We’re very close. As I was speaking to her I drafted up a mass email to my very best friends who have stood by me and encouraged me and I wanted to tell them all at the same time. Then it slowly trickled out when I made the announcement on my facebook page. You have to love technology.
What genre do you write?
This book is a paranormal romance, but I also write contemporary and western era stories for fun.
Do you publish in both print and e-book?
As of right now it’s just e-book, but I’m hoping that I can release the print version in a few months.
What are the advantages of e-books?
I have an e-reader so I love the portability of having books in an e-format. How great is it to be able to pull out a cell phone and read a book while you’re waiting for a bus or train or at the dentist office without having to put a hardcover or trade paperback in your bag. I also think that e-books tend to reach a larger audience much faster than that of its print counterpart. Other than that to me an e-book is just as great as a print book.
Do you have any tips for new writers?
Being fairly new myself I would say don’t give up. Take each rejection as a badge of honor, you’re pursuing your dream and it only takes one yes to have it realized.
Read! Read lots of things – not only to help you with the craft of writing, but don’t forget to read for pleasure.
Surround yourself by good friends who will support you and help you to keep going when self-doubt starts creeping in.
What is your guilty pleasure? Science Fiction TV – I was addicted to Lost and Battlestar Galactica. I also never miss an episode of True Blood.
Where can your readers reach you?
I have a webpage – www.amandajayde.comTwitter – AuthorAmandaJ
Facebook – Amanda Jayde, Author
Or by email – firstname.lastname@example.org
Are you working on another book?
I am currently plotting book 2 to the Dark Wolf Series. It will pick up a few months after Dark Moon Rising ends and while it is a stand alone book, it will move the overall arc of the series forward.
Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share?
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Do not go into the mountains.”
“How did you know where I was headed?” Alex rose from his seat, a chill running up his spine. “How do you know so much about me?”
Francesca ignored his questions with a wave of her hands. “You must go back home, back to San Francisco. Do not enter the forest. You have been marked, Alex, and marked ones never live to see the dawning of a new day.”
“Answer me, Francesca.”
“You were spared once. Don’t forsake that gift. Go home before you regret your decision to come here.”
His stomach tightened and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise, not in fright, but anger. He leaned over, his fingers digging into the wood of her table. “Don’t. Threaten. Me.”
Her eyes widened at the growl in his voice. Francesca kept her gaze on his as she slid her chair back and got to her feet. Her movement caused the air to shift around them, triggering Alex’s senses. There was a scent that hadn’t been there before, a scent that wasn’t familiar at all. It was slightly musky and a bit spicy and completely intoxicating. He inhaled deeply, his body humming with excitement. He turned his attention to the space around him, sniffing the air, but nothing was unusual. He turned back to Francesca and found the scent strongest where she was standing.
Alex strode around the table, following the aroma straight to the woman. He stood close, heard the quick beating of her heart. He watched a lone trickle of sweat slide down the side of her neck, tracing her carotid artery, and realized what he smelled was her fear.
He leapt back from her, surprised when his back hit the wall. He was shocked that the small movement he’d made had propelled him five feet across the room. He saw her shoulders dip slightly as she let out a relieved breath.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like this.”
“I understand. Believe me. I understand more than you will ever know.” She reached out for the table and steadied herself as she took her seat again.
“Why are you telling me to stay away? What do you think is going to happen?”
“Not what I think, what I know.”
“All right, I’ll go with that. What do you know will happen?”
Francesca looked down at her glass of wine and ran a finger up the stem. “You are going to die.” She turned her attention back to him, and Alex was taken by how solemn her eyes were. “Or at least I thought so before...”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I could be wrong.”
“You said I was marked. Marked by what?”
“What is a Dante?”
“It is a he, not a what,” she replied with a slight smile. “Dante Luna.”
“Is he with the Mafia?”
Francesca’s eyes lit up with laughter. “No. Although I’m sure he would prefer it if some thought so.” She sighed softly, her expression becoming serious. “Nevertheless, he is the patriarch of a very powerful family and he does not usually leave survivors behind. In fact, you are the first I have ever seen.”
Alex sat once more at the table. “What does he want with me? I’ve never met this man. Why would he want to kill me?”
“What does that mean?”
“That’s all I can say. Alex, please listen to me. I’m telling you this so there will be no more innocent blood shed in the Apennines. Go home.”
“No.” For the first time in his life, he felt like he needed a drink. He eyed the glass. She wouldn’t try to kill him, would she? She was trying to warn him, certainly that meant she was on his side. At least, he hoped so as he picked up the glass of wine and watched her over the rim as he brought it to his lips. He paused briefly before downing the contents in one long swallow. He licked his lips, tasting the slightly fruity taste, and waited for the room to spin--but nothing happened. He stood up, holding on to the edge of the table for support, expecting to feel the world tilt or for the lightheaded wooziness to set in, but again, nothing. He didn’t even feel a buzz. “What was in that glass?”
“It can’t be. The least little taste of alcohol makes me drunk and yet I don’t feel anything.”
“I told you, it’s special.”
“Francesca, how do you expect me to listen to you when you are being purposefully vague? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I can understand your apprehension, but--”
He held one palm up. “No. I want the truth, no more bull. Just be straight with me or I leave and go straight to the mountains tonight.”
“Have you ever heard of the Benandanti?”
Alex’s interest was piqued. “I’ve studied up on several wolf legends. They were men who left their bodies and became wolves to fight witches in the underworld. It’s one of the earliest werewolf stories.” He paused, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What does that have to do with going into the woods?” She arched a brow in response. Alex laughed loudly. “Are you saying I’ve been marked as a witch?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“You’re being vague again. What have the Benandanti wolves got to do with...?” His eyes widened as realization struck him. “The wolves that attacked my camp, are you saying they were Benandanti?”
Francesca shrugged, not answering the question. “So you see you must go home.”
“Werewolves in the Apennines.”
“Yes. They are very ancient and extremely protective of their land.”
Alex’s lips twisted and he snorted. “Thanks for nothing, Francesca. I have heard some unbelievable tales in my lifetime. Stories designed to keep me away from plots of land, but this takes the cake. You almost believe what you’re saying.”
She ran to his side and took his hand. Her mouth opened in shock as she squeezed his palm. She gazed into his eyes, her expression softening, her eyes pleading. “This is the truth, Alex. Dante and the others will kill you if you go back.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure that’s what you thought the last time as well.”
Alex pulled his hand out of hers so roughly she stumbled forward. “I will admit I was unprepared, but now I know there are feral wolves out there, I’ll be prepared for them. You make sure your friend Dante knows that, and if I find out he had something to do with my friends’ deaths, he’ll have to worry about me.”
He turned and stormed out of the building and into the cool night air. He walked without direction, ignoring the stares and curses of the people who rushed to move out of his way. He stopped at the rough stone wall dating back to the medieval era on the far edge of the small town and leaned his back against the stone. Maybe coming back to the Apennines wasn’t the best idea after all.
Movement to his left caught his eye and he turned his head. She was there, the woman he dreamt of, and he felt the hairs on his arms rise. She stood on the sidewalk across the small street in front of a darkened alley and watched him. Dressed in dark leggings and a beige sweater, her stance was tense as if the slightest movement would cause her to bolt. Alex pushed away from the wall when she stepped toward him.
He took a deep breath as the wind caressed his face and brought her scent to him. For the first time since gaining his sharper senses he was happy to have them. She smelled of wildflowers. He tried to clear his head and wondered if the old woman had drugged him. There was no way he could tell what she smelled like, not from a hundred feet away. He shut his eyes tightly. He had to be hallucinating again. This woman didn’t exist outside of his dreams and fantasies, yet she was still there when he opened his eyes.
Her lips parted, and Alex took a step forward, when suddenly a hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed her shoulder. She moved rapidly, her form a blur as she pulled away from the hold. She raised her fists, but did not swing as a large man with dark hair stood in front of her. He towered over the petite woman, his well-muscled body and bearing making him look as if he were made of stone. His eyes were green and almost glowed in the darkness of the street. He arched a brow, and Alex watched as the woman exhaled and allowed her body to relax.
The man looked over her head. His gaze met Alex’s and his expression grew dark. Rage filled his eyes and he tensed like a predator sensing his prey and poised to attack. Alex could feel his own muscles contracting, his hands fisting at his side. Something in his face must have shocked the other man. Alex only had a second to wonder as the sports car from earlier that evening screeched to a halt in front of the couple. Alex immediately recognized the man that exited, and by the expression on his face, he recognized Alex as well. The dark-haired man marched around the car and stood beside his friend, the looks on both their faces decidedly unfriendly.
The woman stepped in front of both men, a hand on each of their chests. He could just make out her voice as she spoke hurriedly in a language Alex could barely hear. He didn’t think it was Italian, though. He only had a perfunctory knowledge of it, but it sounded nothing like it should. She looked once over her shoulder, an apology written in her eyes, then tried to turn both men to the car. Whatever she said must have influenced them--to Alex’s surprise both men allowed her to usher them inside the small vehicle. She paused briefly, and in the silence of the night Alex heard her name.
Thanks for joining us today Amanda!