Welcome Christine Ashworth, Author of Demon Soul

My guest this week is Christine Ashworth.  Let’s get to know her better.

RW: Tell us a little bit about yourself.

CA: Rochelle, thanks so much for having me here! I came to writing late, intimidated by my family of storytellers and published, prolific writers. Now, however, it’s my joy to write about strong, sexy men who are sure about everything, and hit them with a strong, sexy woman who makes them doubt. Plus, demons, faeries, and witches – what’s not to enjoy?

RW: How long have you been writing?

CA: I wrote my first short story in grade school, and followed that up with a play that we performed in sixth grade. I had some living to do though, so put aside my pencil for quite awhile. I’ve been writing with an eye to publication for ten years now.

RW: What is/are your favorite genre/s?

CA: I read everything. No, seriously everything! John Connolley has a book of short stories out called Nocturnes – it has the same flavor that H.P. Lovecraft’s stories do, deliciously shivery. I also read YA, women’s lit, historical romance, well – ALL romance across genres – if it’s a good story, I’ll read it. Mysteries, cookbooks, history books and even litRAHchure. Right now I’m swept away by the huge fantasy series The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan.

RW: Who are your favorite authors?

CA: Tolkien. Stephanie Laurens for historical romance. Nora Roberts. Marcus Aurelius. Goethe (his Italian Journeys are eye-opening.) Rosamund Pilcher. Sherrilyn Kenyon. Christine Feehan. Walt Whitman. Herman Hesse. Lovecraft. Elizabeth David. Martha Grimes. Jan Karon. Robin McKinley. Joss Whedon is a God. Not sure yet if Jordan will become a favorite author – but he kept me awake until 2:30am this morning, so…maybe!

RW: When do you get your best writing done?

CA: When I can let go of my inner Judge and just write. I am amazed sometimes at how things flow. I guess you could say when I’m tucked into my corner at Coffee Bean, with my music in my ears and a hot cup of coffee at hand, I’m at my most creative. Oh, and I have to have the internet turned off.

RW: What is a typical day like for you?

CA: I get up, shower, make myself coffee, hit the computer and clear out all my emails. Then it’s Twitter to see what’s going on, and drop by Facebook and do the same. Finally I’ll make the hubby and myself breakfast then get myself off to either Coffee Bean or Starbucks, depending on who I’m meeting for some serious writing sprints. Exercise is either before breakfast (a brisk 2 mile walk or a half-hour yoga DVD) or I head to my local gym for a “live” yoga class. When I’m really lucky, I’ll get a walk in with Kat Jameson, a writer in the same small town I live in and we’ll chatter about writing the entire time.

RW: What else have you published?

CA: I have an essay in Scott Cunningham’s Book of Shadows (Appendix III), published by Llewellyn Worldwide in October of 2009.

RW: If you went to “that God-forsaken rock the Moon,” what one special thing would you take?

CA: I would die without music. So I’d take the biggest iPod filled with as much music as possible, that also had a solar battery charger attached.

RW: Tell us about your current book.

CA: DEMON SOUL is the story of Gabriel Caine, one of the Caine brothers, who are tribreds – demon, human and Fae blood runs through their veins and has for a dozen generations. Each Caine has his own way of dealing with their blood and the gifts and traps that come with it. Gabriel has suffered from the demon blood inside him, and when his soul is stolen by a bitch-vamp, he’s got to get it back or he’ll become the demon he fears.

Tag Line

…to retrieve his soul, she’ll become fire…

RW: How can we reach you?

Website and Blog: http://christine-ashworth.com

E-Mail: Christineash@sbcglobal.net

Twitter: @CCAshworth

Buy Links:

Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Demon-Soul-Christine-Ashworth/dp/0984180591

All Romance eBooks:  http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-demonsoul-532766-140.html

Crescent Moon Press: http://www.crescentmoonpress.com/books/DemonSoul.html

Blurb: Gabriel Caine stands on the edge of the abyss. A vampire has stolen his soul and if he doesn’t get it back soon, his next step will be into Hell.

Rose Walters has been sent back from the dead to complete one task- save Gabriel Caine. She’s drawn to Gabriel on the most basic level, but restoring his soul may cost Rose her life.

Rose has touched the whole of Gabriel, making him yearn for a love he believes he can never have. Her willingness to put her human life on the line for him forces him to bring all three parts of himself – demon, human, and Fae bloodlines, and the strengths of each – into harmony, and into the fight that will decide their fate.

DEMON SOUL Excerpt:

Gabriel approached Rose with caution. This time he got a better look at her demon form, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing—she was beautiful, eerie, flame licking along her arms, forming between her hands, flickering in her summer-sky blue eyes. Fire danced along the strands of her coppery curls. Her skin had taken on fur, an orangey hue with golden spots. He could see the horns protruding from her forehead, the ears elongated and pointy. Behind her, tiny wings, useless in flight, fluttered between her shoulder blades.

His own demon uncurled inside him. It fought to be freed, violently attracted to this transformed Rose. He shook his head fiercely and his demon subsided, pouting, though he knew his eyes still whirled green.

"Rose? It's me, Gabriel. How can you…it is you?" His voice held his demon, a growl that would not be denied.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. Her eyes took a bit to focus, and it seemed to him she'd grown taller. "It's me. I've got a fire demon's powers, and look at me! I know you’ve seen me before, but look. Look at what I can do." Her smile was quick and endearing as she rolled a ball of fire.

Before she could launch it, Gabriel caught her arm. Amazed at how hot she felt. "No." He growled the command even as his inner demon struggled again to be free.

"Why not?" A frown gathered between her eyes and she tossed the fireball from hand to hand. "We don't like that place. We can get rid of it. Easy. Just, poof!"

"There are people to save in there, Rose," he said. Sweat beaded on his face and he wondered how much longer he could hang onto her.

She tilted her head. "Then let's go in and save them. The demons are gone. Come on, Gabriel, let's go be big bad demons together."

Her hands squashed the fireball and she streaked to the open door of the club, as fast as any fire. Gabriel roared a challenge. She turned to him and grinned, did a little dance in the doorway. "Come on!"

Gabriel changed into his demon, his heart in his throat. He caught sight of Danny's eye on him. Focusing, he took the time to tell him the plan. "We go to save the weres." He moved to the back door of Twisted.

The place stank of vampire. Gabriel grumbled low in his throat as he followed Rose's scent of smoke and sunshine down the stairs, traceable among the heavier scent of vampire that clogged at the back of his throat. As a human, he had a difficult time with the stairwell. As a demon, he hated it—too enclosed, the steps too small for his feet, yet he followed her.

Found her. With her demon strength she broke open the locks. All the doors stood open on the floor, but only three of them had held prisoners. She stood now in front of one of the doors, her head cocked to one side, little flames licking along the edges of her hair. "It's okay," he heard her say. "You can come out. We're the good guys."

Sudah Garratti from Hyphema

Hi, and welcome to my blog. My guest today is Sudah Garratti, the heroine of Hyphema, by Chelle Cordero. Before we start the interview, it might help to learn a little bit about the book.

Hyphema: Bleeding in the eye caused by trauma…

Matt Garratti, a paramedic from New York, moves his wife and son to North Carolina to work at his dream job as a flight medic. Pakistani born Sudah, his wife, receives frosty stares and insensitive comments from their new neighbors.

Before long, Matt wonders if he is pursuing his dream or bringing his family into a nightmare from which they may never wake.

Now—Let’s meet Matt’s wife, Sudah.

How old are you?

I am in my early twenties.

What do you look like? If you had to describe yourself as though you were talking about someone else, what would you say?

I am petite with dark olive skin, dark eyes and I am very modest.

What are your speech patterns like? Can you think of someone on TV or on radio who speaks in a similar way?

I try very hard to speak English like Americans do, but I sometimes get confused with strange phrases.

What is your usual facial expression? Are people drawn to your warmth and cheerfulness, or are you seen as quiet / dour / grim / humorless / reserved / etc? Does your face reflect the 'inner you' or are looks deceiving?

I try to be quiet as I do not like to draw too much attention to myself.

How do you handle anger? Are you slow to anger or easy to annoy? Are people afraid of you, and if so is this justified?

A few times I have lost my temper and raised my voice, but this is something I should not do. I do not believe I give people any reason to be afraid of me.

How do you react to confrontation? Would you give anything for a quiet life or do you enjoy winning an argument or a fight?

Usually when a person wishes to argue, they are not willing to listen to the way another person sees things so I prefer not to argue.

How much power do you wield at home, in the workplace, and in social situations? Are you the quiet "power behind the throne" type or do you wield obvious power? Or do you feel powerless? If so, why—and what might be the catalyst to make you change?

I try to let the outside world see that my husband is in charge – but at home I know how much it means to matt that I am happy, so in truth, I feel very powerful.

What (in your opinion) would be the first impression most people get when they meet you?

People see a small woman who wears a scarf to be modest, they see a woman who comes from “over there,” and sometimes they worry that I am there to do harm. People are very suspicious of dark skinned Muslims. They do not understand that most of us are just like everybody else.

In your case, is “what you see is what you get,” or do people sometimes make the wrong judgment about you? If so, why would this be?

I was schooled in Pakistan. I guess it would be equivalent to high school. I came to America to study business in college but the college course ended because the school lost funding.

Are you happy with what you have achieved since you left school?

I do not study business right now, but I still go to college to learn about American history, I wish to become an American citizen and this is something I must know.

Where do you live?

We recently moved from New York to North Carolina.

Do you live alone, share a house, or¼?

I live in a house with my husband and young son. Matt says the house is small but to me it is very nice size. My cousin Raja comes to live in America and stays with us.

If yes, are you happy or discontented in the relationship / this family? Tell us about it.

I am very happy being married to matt and mother to Aden. My family in Pakistan is not happy that I am married to an American non-Muslim. It makes me sad that they do not accept my marriage.

Who is your best friend? When did this relationship start? What makes you friends?

My real best friend is my husband, matt. I have a very nice friendship with his former paramedic partner, Julie – I met her after matt and I were married. I am making good friends with some of the wives of matt’s coworkers here in north Carolina.

Who else is in your circle of acquaintances? Who would you turn to in times of trouble?

I like to go shopping with the wives of matt’s coworkers; I get along nicely with most of them. If I need to turn to someone it would be Laurie or Trish. Their husbands have worked with the EMS response agency for a while and they have welcomed matt and me nicely.

If there is anyone in your circle who might betray you, who would it be?

There is one of the wives—her name is donna. She does not like the fact that I am Pakistani or Muslim. She says many mean things and she embarrasses her husband with her insults.

How would you describe your personality? What are your best points and assets? What are your flaws or weaknesses?

I believe in my faith very much and I know that makes Allah happy. At the same time I worry that I am expecting my husband to blindly accept my ways; this was not the way he was raised.

If there was one thing about your looks that you could change, what would it be?

I would like to look more like an American woman so that my husband would not have to see people look at me with such distrust.

If there was one thing about your personality that you could change, what would it be?

I do not think that matt sees me as very strong. I would like to show him he can lean on me.

What makes you likeable? Are you likeable enough for people to want to spend extended periods of time with you?

I always try to see good in everyone. I think that is likeable.

What makes you unlikeable? Is this a chronic problem or can you change?

I need to learn more about American activities and things so that I can talk about interesting things.

What type of people would like you, and who might not like you?

People who have true faith in any religion, will love all of humanity and will give a person a chance to show who they are. Sometimes people are not comfortable with someone who is different because they do not know many different people. They are scared.

Would you describe your life to this point as being generally happy, pretty average, or generally unhappy? Can you briefly explain why?

I am very happy. I married a man who loves me and is a good man. I am very proud of him—he cares about people. My son brings me much joy. I like the home we live in and the land around us is very pretty. I have a good life.

What is the most traumatic thing that has ever happened to you?

There are very traumatic things that happen in this story, but before the story begins—on September 11, 2001, I was just a little girl in Pakistan, my father’s very good friend was killed in nice when he tried to help people get out of the world trade center. His friend, Jamaal, was wishing to be an American citizen and bring his family to America. I was very sad when my mother held Jamaal’s wife while she cried.

What is the best thing that has ever happened to you?

The best thing that ever happened to me was meeting Matt in the college hallway.

Is there anything else you can tell me about yourself that has a bearing on what you might do or say in any given situation?

In Pakistan woman are taught to obey their husbands, take care of the home and children. They work, usually in a family business, when their husbands say they should. America is different. Women have rights to make their own decisions. I want to be a good wife and mother, not because I am expected to be, but because I want to be. America also allows me to choose my faith and I love my Muslim faith so I can keep praying to Allah even though my husband is a different religion, and we are free to raise our son how we choose to.

Finally, here’s a brief excerpt from Hypehma:

The diner waitress put their meals down in front of them. She smiled at Matt. “So are y’all new to the area?” Matt could see she was trying not to look at Sudah. “Where are y’all from?”

“New York.”

The waitress stole a quick glance at the infant in the carry seat next to his mother. “Cute babe.” She looked back towards Matt. “Your… wife from New Yawk too?”

He narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Why don’t you ask her?”

The waitress blushed. “Uh…”

Sudah kindly piped in, “Yes I also lived in New York.” She was dressed in a long skirt and modest blouse. Her clothes were purely American even if the style was reserved. She also wore a hijab, a flowing scarf that hid her hair from the public.

Nodding and smiling politely at Sudah and Matt, the waitress made a hasty retreat.

“Matt, why are you angry? Sudah shook her head gently. “She was just making conversation.”

“She didn’t even give you the courtesy of asking you the question.”

She shrugged. “They see the color of my skin and my scarf. I’m different. They do not mean any harm.”

“You’re my wife Sudah and I want people to respect that.”

“Maybe they worry I don’t speak English?”

“If they bothered to speak to you they would find out that you do.” His wife always made excuses for people; she never wanted to see bad in any of them. But even her positivity wasn't enough to dispel his foul mood.

Matt was feeling edgy all day. He was very aware of the hostile looks they received earlier in the day while touring some nearby towns. One old man even called Sudah an Aaa-Rab and made fun of her head covering. Matt almost lost his temper with the old man, but Sudah’s light touch on his arm calmed him. When she politely told the man she was Pakistani, the old guy guffawed and said “same thing.” Later, Sudah explained to Matt that she didn’t think it was worthwhile to argue. “We will not change a man’s mind unless he wants to hear something new.”

Earlier in the day he drove to the college campus with them so that Sudah could see the route she would have to take. He also wanted to see the area she’d be spending so much time in for himself and make sure that it was safe for her. That’s when he first got an uneasy feeling that they were being watched, but he didn’t see anyone specific. Matt convinced himself that it was just more of those hostile looks keeping him on edge. There was a small mosque in the student center and Sudah told him that she would pray there. Matt hoped she wouldn't be harassed because of her faith. The campus advertised that childcare was available but neither of them were impressed with the facilities. That was when they started exploring and finally wound up in the diner on their way back home.

Sudah fed Aden creamed corn from a small jar while they waited for their orders. The waitress put heaping platters of food in front of each of them. She made sure to thank the waitress.

Matt bit into an overstuffed club sandwich with turkey and ham Sudah chewed slowly on her grilled cheese sandwich while she helped Aden hold his bottle.

“I am happy the drive to school will not be long.” She took time to chew the bite of sandwich she just put in her mouth.

He nodded. “It’s a pretty direct route. That’s good.”

“Matt, thank you for bringing us here.”

He took a gulp of lemonade. “Oh baby, I hope you’re happy.”

“Yes, I am happy.” She smiled at him. “You give us a nice home. You are taking care of your family.”

The three left the diner with their stomachs full and his foul mood dispelled a bit by his wife’s optimism. Matt stayed off of the highway as they headed back towards their home in order to see a little more of the area. Driving along a street of one and two million dollar homes, Matt tried to imagine coming home to Sudah and their son in one of those luxurious estates.

“One of these days…”

“One of these days what, Matt?” Sudah asked about his barely audible statement. Her own voice was low because of the sleeping infant in the rear seat.

He chuckled. “One of these days I would love to afford one of these homes for you and Aden.”

She looked out of her passenger side window. “These homes, they are so big.”

“Yeah. They’re beautiful.”

“But Matt, compared to the house I grew up in, our home is a,” she paused to come up with the right word, “a… a big house.”

“Like a mansion?” He was amused by his wife’s naiveté about the language and expressions.

“Yes, a mansion. It is a mansion to me.”

He pulled the car to the side of the road and put it in park. A wisp of hair had escaped the scarf she wound around her head. Reaching towards her, Matt tenderly brushed it behind her ear. “Baby, I want to give you so much. I want to do so much for you and Aden.” He wanted to be the perfect husband and father, everything his own father wasn’t.

She smiled demurely. “You have given me everything. You are everything that I need.” Looking around quickly to make sure they were not being observed, Sudah leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his lips. “You have made me very happy. I never thought that I would find a man like you for me. I am so lucky.”

When Sudah looked at him like that, she made him feel successful. “I’m the lucky one.” He gently pulled her forward to kiss her again. “Would you mind if we went home?” He knew she wasn’t comfortable with public displays and it was a lot more than simple kissing that he wanted to do with her at that moment.

“I think that might be a very good idea.”

Meet Chelle Cordero:  http://chellecordero.com/

Or check out her blog:  http://ChelleCordero.blogspot.com

Trailer:  http://youtu.be/8IcK1NN7P2E

Sample (22Pages):  http://bit.ly/ezia8N

Buy Links for Hyphema

Amazon Kindle:  http://amzn.to/fEYUR7

Smashwords (Various E-Book Formats):  http://bit.ly/epqtjy

Second in Line, But First in Our Hearts! By Allure Van Sanz

No, I’m not talking about Prince Harry, who is living in the shadow of his brother making questionable choices. I’m talking about secondary characters writers and readers grow to love.

For me, I don’t start off adoring my secondary characters. I love my hero and heroine (or heroes or heroines—or any combination)—my love for them is what drives me to write the story.

And yet, I have noticed, while writing my secondary characters, I come to love them more and more, and by the end of the story, with my main characters happy and together—I’m totally in love with my secondary character(s) and wanting to write their story.

My first example is Grey. Grey is from my Indie release, Murder Creek; a book I wrote using the role-playing logs between myself and Random Wicks as inspiration. Grey is a Nomad (think sexy elf meets sexy bad-boy biker) who has a fascination with the 80’s. He’s best friends with Vic, a buddy he’s known all his life, and not very happy with the new girl in Vic’s life. Grey’s a funny guy. Random always wrote him funny, so when I was writing him in the book, I was nervous. Every scene in Murder Creek came out with relative ease…except the ones with Grey in them. I had one of those Top Gun moments after I finished the first draft of the book and was going through to tighten characters, setting, and emotions. “Talk to me, Goose(Grey).”

Dead air.

He either wasn’t ready to talk or I was too worried to listen. And then one day…it happened. I inserted a stake-out scene. Vic and Grey are outside of the heroine’s place, waiting for her to make a move. Originally, the scene went like this:

Grey bit down on a dried sliced banana, staring out his windshield at the warehouse in front of them.

Two and a half stories high, the building had a ramp sloping from the sidewalk down to a roll-down garage door. Great for parking an expensive car in a piece of shit neighborhood. The windows of the first floor were boarded up, and from what he could see of the second, the small tile-like windows in various shades of green and fogged gray were missing a few panels.

“You’re positive this is her place? I mean, the garage entrance is bangin’ but the rest ain’t much.”

Vic held a pair of binoculars and peered up at the soft glow coming from the second story. “I’m positive. You see the little panes missing in those factory windows? They’re strategic, easy to put a gun through in every direction to snipe someone who might be gunnin’ for you. There’s fresh brick at each of the corners too, probably hiding new sensors that will tell her if anyone is on the roof or on the sidewalk surrounding the building.” His finger pointed, tracing the bricks in the distance. “Same thing by the garage. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were machine guns that lowered from the overhang to shoot anyone that got too close to her car. It’s a damned fine car.”

“We’ve been here a while and haven’t seen shit. I hope you’re not wrong.”

“I saw her leaving a flaming gift behind and followed her here. Or near here. She turned the corner and I lost her. This seemed the perfect place.”

“What’s that shit?” Grey asked, nodding his head toward the object between them.

Vic looked at the box next to him and smiled. “I stole it. It’s a cell phone recorder. You point this cone-thing toward the target and it locks onto the cell line. It tapes everything. The little lights blink when it’s picking something up.”

After writing the new scene, I felt blah. BORING! I took a shower like it would help wash away my epic failure. The second the water hit my face I heard. “Flaming gift?? You think I’d let that shit slide?” I laughed out loud, jumped out of the shower and ran to my keyboard to type up the “true” scene.

“I saw her leaving a flaming gift behind and followed her here. Or near here. She turned the corner and I lost her. This seemed the perfect place.” Vic lowered the binoculars and caught Grey staring at him as though he lost his damned mind. “What?”

“Flaming gift?”

“Yeah,” Vic shrugged. “A corpse. Deceased target. You know…a gift.”

“Yeah, Vic. I got that. Who the hell calls them that? I thought they were packages.”

“Package is military. Besides…flaming package?”

“Well Gran calls dogshit ‘gifts’.”

They both quieted for a moment.

“She torched a corpse in an alley.” Vic conceded.

“Much better.” Grey tilted his snack bag in Vic’s direction. “Monkey chips?”

Vic took one and brought his eyes back to the building. “Flaming package.”

They laughed.

“Speaking of the military, what’s that shit?”

And that, my friends, is the reason I fell in love with Grey.

But secondary characters, to me, don’t have to be people. Sometimes, I fall in love with a setting or atmosphere. In my newest release—out now titled Love Revisited: Davit and Jenova—the ghosts who haunt the ruins and the ruins itself are my secondary characters, and one of the reasons I wanted to revisit Davit and Jenova’s story.

In this book, Jenova convinces the spirits to help her take control of her head-strong lover, and show him the joys of complete submission—whether he likes it or not!

Here’s an excerpt I hope gives you a sense of the atmosphere: 

“Something feels a little screwy,” Davit said, clapping his hands free of dirt.

An hour after they were forced to abandon their rented Rover and walk deeper into the jungle, their camp was finally set up, and just in time. The sun painted the sky gold and peeked through the dense trees as it sank toward the horizon. Darkness would come soon…and with it the entities Jenova and Davit had grown to think of as their tribal family.

…Their bizarre, long dead, tribal ghost family.

“We’re here on our annual visit with a tribe that’s been dead for centuries. Something is screwy, Davit, and it’s probably us.”

He gave her the look she’d come to love, the one that said “I’m gonna spank your ass in a second”. She was totally okay with that.

She grinned.

“It’s different, Jen. There’s usually a tremor inside me. Like I can feel them when we get here. But there’s nothing. I felt a flutter when I was pitching the tent but now… I dunno. Something’s up.”

Davit wasn’t the paranoid type. If he thought something was off, then something was.

Gazing around the canopy of trees, up to the steep steps of the ancient temple, she looked for a wisp, a sign—a bird flying backwards or some crap. But Davit was right. Nothing out of the ordinary. The jungle teemed with life, but the dead were silent.

Years ago when he’d first brought her here to the ruins, she’d witnessed the magical energy of the place. The hum of the people who once inhabited the jungle prayed at the altar she’d been strapped to, and poured their souls into the very soil she’d stood on. Before her eyes they’d turned from specters into spectators on the full moon, eager to be part of the living again.

They celebrated her and Davit’s love making, rejoiced in its power and ability to revive their spirits.

And year after year, as promised, she and Davit came back, bringing with them the gift of existence for the duration of the solstice.

“Hm. Maybe we need to head to the altar?” For her, that’s where all the magic began. It only made sense they’d have to return if the mojo was too weak to—

Yes, bring him, came the whispers.

Jenova smiled. It was time.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on secondary characters, whether you’re a reader or a writer. Thank you so much for stopping by, and as a reward for doing so, I’ll be giving away a copy of Love Revisited: Davit and Jenova for every six commenters.

You can come visit me any time here:

http://allurevansanz.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/#!/AllureVanSanz

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/AllureVanSanz

Murder Creek is a full-length novel available for just 99 cents on Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004SI43YE

and B&N: http://tinyurl.com/4x2d69w

Love Revisited: Davit and Jenova is available here: https://www.nobleromance.com/ItemDisplay.aspx?i=264

A big thank you to Rochelle for hosting me this holiday weekend! Thank you so much!