Heather Kindt's Blog, page 7

Interview with Celia McMahon

Celia McMahon and the Parliament House Press recently released Unspoken. Set in a kingdom of warring lands, demon curses, and hidden magic, UNSPOKEN is a fantasy for fans of Maggie Stiefvater’s Mercy Falls Series and Sarah J Maas’ Throne of Glass. It also has an absolutely gorgeous cover!

What inspired you to write your latest work? What’s special about it?

I was inspired by a song that I heard for the first time. The rest came over time as I started writing. I think it’s special because Izzy is the character most like myself as she’s gone through some tragic situations and has an anxiety disorder but still finds strength. 

Which character in your books are you most like? Unlike?

Izzy is so much like me. The character most unlike me is probably her father because I don’t murder and poison an entire race of people, but that’s me. 

That’s a good thing! How long have you been writing? Did you always know you wanted to be a writer?

I wrote my first story in the fourth grade and my first full novel in grade ten so suffice it to say I’ve been writing a long time. I always knew I wanted to be a writer. It was the only thing that felt right. 

I wish I started that young. Tell us about your writing process. What is your journey from idea to published piece?

My process is unconventional. When I get an idea, I don’t start writing right away. I file it away in my head, and if the idea grows, I then start jotting down notes. When a few weeks pass, then I open a new document. I am a pantser, meaning I do not outline, but rather let the story take me where it wants to take me. Writing for me is like Christmas. I never know what’s going to happen until it does!

That’s how I get many crazy ideas. Let them flow out as the story develops. Where do you write?

I used to use the dining room as my office, but now since moving back to the States with our own home, I know have an office. I use a Macbook Air. 

Do you have a writing goal you want to achieve? What does success look like for you?

My goal is only to inspire others. Success is that one message on Instagram saying how much they loved my book and fell in love with my characters. That is enough for me. 

That’s a big deal! What helps you most when it comes to writing?

Music. I couldn’t write without it.

Ha! My mantra is: Quiet. I couldn’t write without it. What are you working on now?

I am working on the third and final installment of the Unspoken series, and editing a King Arthur YA retelling. 

Who or what inspired you to be a writer?

I want to say Stephen King so, Stephen King haha

The only book I’ve read by Stephen King is “On Writing.” I’m a wimp. How often do you write? Do you have a job besides being a writer?

I write whenever I can. At least 500 words a day if time is crunched. I am a full-time mommy. 

What book has had the most impact on you? Why?

Probably The Stand by Stephen King. As a child, it was the book that defined what kind of writer I wanted to be: fearless. 

What is the best piece of writing advice that someone has given you?

Write about the things that you love. In this case, it’s cake and wolves

New Release – Nightmareland

For those of you who are fans of horror, or are interested in scary stories right before Halloween, then USA Today best-selling author and my friend, Dan Alatorre might have the anthology for you. Nightmareland is the third horror anthology released by Alatorre. Dark Visions, released last year, includes my story Cabin Five.

Blurb:

From the creators of the #1 bestseller The Box Under The Bed horror anthology and its #1 bestseller sequel Dark Visions, comes Nightmareland
A horror anthology with 23 stories from 14 authors.

A high school girl with something to prove to herself and possibly to her parents, goes to a rundown shack deep in the woods to try a new drug that will give her the worst nightmares of her young life. A “Nightmareland” injection opens a person’s biggest fears to them – and then you are on your own for however long it lasts. Tag along as she becomes a lost child on a Florida party island, an investigator looking into a circus’ bizarre side shows, an abused prisoner, and much more.

Compiled by USA Today bestselling author Dan Alatorre, this anthology of horror once again unites the minds and pens of more than a dozen amazing authors.

Nightmareland will send you into the foggy twilight of the eerie and macabre, with heart stopping stories from:

USA Today bestselling author Dan Alatorre (The Navigators),
award-winning bestselling author Robbie Cheadle
award-winning bestselling author Ellen Best
award-winning author Kaye Booth
award-winning bestselling author Betty Valentine
award-winning bestselling author Alana Turner
award-winning bestselling author Christine Valentor
award-winning bestselling author Nick Vossen
award-winning bestselling author Alana Turner
award-winning bestselling author Victoria Clapton
award-winning bestselling author AM Andrus
award-winning bestselling author Adele Marie Park
award-winning bestselling author Barbara Anne Helberg
award-winning bestselling author MD Walker
award-winning bestselling author Dabney Farmer
award-winning bestselling author M J Mallon

Perfect for Halloween or any time, these stories will make you think twice before spending the night alone, watching TV with family, or even going on a casual boat ride.

Pick up Nightmareland for 99 cents for a limited time.

Do you like to read scary stories at Halloween? What are some of your favorites? Let us know in the comments.

The post New Release – Nightmareland appeared first on Heather Kindt.

Interview with Vicki-Ann Bush

Parliament House Press recently released Vicki-Ann Bush’s Alex McKenna and the Geranium Deaths. In my interview with Bush, she talks about life, writing, and an upcoming meet and greet.

What inspired your latest work? What is special about it?

My young grandson is transgender and a few years ago I asked my daughter if there were any YA fiction books that she knew of with a transgender main character. There wasn’t, and she was thrilled when I told her my idea for Alex McKenna. My hope is to bring the teen transgender community a character they can relate to but also enjoy the fantasy, paranormal escapades.

What character in your books are you most like?

I used to feel I was closest to Jesse from Room 629 but as I grow, I find a piece of me spread out throughout all my main characters and the ones closest to them. Unlike? Alex’s dad. He’s not a bad guy, but I couldn’t quit on my family and start a new one.

Do you plot out your entire story, or do your characters drive it?

My stories are very much character-driven. I start with an idea but often find my journey taking a quick left off the path and into unchartered terrain.

How long have you been writing? What is the journey from draft to published piece?

Many of my books begin with a title that pops in head. From there the story grows often finding fuel from everyone around me. Once the story is complete, I set it aside for a few days before beginning my edits. After which I read it again and then send it to my beta readers. I have a few close friends and family I trust with this process. Once I get it back, I read through it again one more time, making any changes or corrections. Then I begin the process of submission. This starts with my query letter and patience.

Where do you do your writing?

I have my own office I call the writing room. It’s filled with pics of my book covers and personal items that are close to me.

Do you have a writing goal you want to achieve?

I guess my goal is a bit of an author cliché, acquire an agent who can aid my career. What does success look like for you? To be able to continue to do what I love.

Who or what inspired you to be a writer?

There isn’t one person I can single out. My favorite author is Dean Koontz, but when I was younger there were many great authors who influenced me. Ann Rice and Stephen King are among the list, but I enjoyed many of the classics as well.

Which book have you read that has the biggest impact on you?

Two come to mind. First, The Witching Hour, by Ann Rice. I enjoyed the layers of years and characters. The intricate stories that weaved throughout the book and connecting everyone. The second is Lightening by Dean Koontz. It’s time travel which fascinates me.

What helps you most when it comes to writing?

Family. They’re an endless source of creativity.

I totally get that. Both family and coworkers! What are you working on now?

I recently completed the second Alex McKenna book and will be starting the third shortly. I had begun a new book out of the series, but I find the pull to resume Alex’s stories is too great.

How often do you write?

Usually five days a week. I like to take the weekends with my husband, but I have been known to put in an hour or two in the early morning while he’s sleeping in. Do you have another job besides being a writer? No.

What’s the best piece of writing advice that someone’s given you?

Patience and persistence. Rejection is a definite component of being an author and that’s okay. The world is made up of different tastes and likes, it’s what makes us interesting. If you have a dream stay with it, better your skills, stay active in the community and don’t stop.

Do you have a favorite review of your book?

This Amazon review—Ms. Bush takes on more than just ghosts, murder, and mystery in this book. The well-written story reminds everyone that the one thing we want out of life, no matter our personal journey, is to be loved and accepted. By focusing on the action and emotional impact, she helps the reader transition into Alex’s world. Life isn’t perfect for any of us but keeping secrets really doesn’t help. It’s better to have the courage to be true to yourself and support others than worry about an image. In the end, the truth always comes out.

What else do you do besides writing?

I love movies and binge-watching favorite shows. Currently, I’m hooked on, Ripper Street. I also love music. My dad was a musician, so I grew up hearing music in our house all the time. Sometimes when I need to decompress, I’ll put on my fave tunes and dance around with Curie. She’s our little  Yorkie/Chihuahua mix.

Where can fans connect with you?

Amazon  Author.to/Vicki-Ann

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/VickiAnn.Bush.Author

Author Website http://www.vickiannbush.com

Twitter
–  https://twitter.com/VickiAnnBush

Instagram
– https://www.instagram.com/vickiannbush

Silent Pen Blog http://vickiannbush.blogspot.com

Ms. Bush is
originally from Long Island, New York, and currently resides in Las Vegas,
Nevada. Living in the desert has given her inspiration for several books.

Originally writing
children stories, her first published work was from Salt of the Earth Press,
featuring Winslow Willow the Woodland Fairy, and The Queen of It. Ms. Bush’s
first YA fiction was the novella series, The Dusk Chronicles. A paranormal
romance set in Las Vegas.

Newly released on
September 24th, 2019,  from
The Parliament House, the YA Paranormal LGBTQ, Alex McKenna & The Geranium
Deaths. A series of books that will feature a seventeen-year-old, transgender
boy with paranormal abilities.

The post Interview with Vicki-Ann Bush appeared first on Heather Kindt.

Veiled by Desire Cover Reveal

My fellow author, Candace Robinson at the Parliament House Press is revealing the cover for her new book, Veiled by Desire, the second book in the Laith series. Another beautiful cover by this publisher.

Synopsis:

In Laith, when the moons are high, Tavarra is allowed to walk the land as a human for one day, losing her seahorse-like tail. But should she remain out of the water, a curse will overtake her, turning her into a beast with sharp fangs and long claws. A beast that, on some nights, takes the shape of a rampaging, uncontrollable monster.

Rhona, along with her village, are under a sinister leader’s control. Their leader has taken Rhona from the boy she loves, stripped away her abilities and, under the threat of killing everyone she loves, forces her on a dangerous task to retrieve a dark prism that will increase his already massive powers.

When Tavarra and Rhona cross paths, they discover they need each other. Rhona knows how to help the cursed sea creature, while Tavarra knows where to find the dark prism. They embark on a mission that could help them break Tavarra’s spell and save Rhona’s family and village. But with an untamable beast inside Tavarra, nothing is certain…

Make sure you follow Candace and mark this book on your Goodreads TBR list!

Instagram: (@literarydust)

Facebook: (@literarydust)

Twitter: (@literarydust)

Website: (https://authorcandacerobinson.wordpress.com/)

The post Veiled by Desire Cover Reveal appeared first on Heather Kindt.

The Evolution of the Weaver

When I first started writing the Weaver, I probably didn’t do anything “by the book” or how it’s supposed to be done. I had a story to tell and I wrote it. As Laney, my main character would say, “the things created by an artist’s hand, whether a piece of music, a painting, an antique, or a story, all hold part of the creator within them.” That’s how I feel about my stories, but most intensely about the Weaver.

In 2008, after I finished my master’s degree, work on the Weaver began. As a full-time teacher, I found every weekend moment I could find that I wasn’t spending with my two young children and husband. I spent a lot of time researching different aspects of the story including the Revolutionary War time period that Laney’s book is written in. I also spent a lot of time looking into Nathaniel Hawthorne’s stories and found some interesting concepts that connected with my world. I used some, others I ultimately cut.

I never really plotted out the story. For me, it felt a lot more organic to let the characters propel the story forward. Laney is a lot like me. She’s passionate and loyal, but has trouble being the outgoing life of the party like her roommate Missy. Her college is based off the college I attended and was what I pictured when I wrote the story. William is fun-loving in Laney’s book, but takes on a more serious side when he realizes he’s part of something more–like the Revolutionary War or the supernatural world of the Weavers. There’s not much to like about Jonas’ character in the Weaver. He’s basically a drunk intent on revenge and his interactions with Laney are limited. His role takes on a whole new life in The Watcher and The Ender where his POV is presented and he becomes one of my favorite characters.

The cover above is from my first rendition of the story. It was told in the first person and was only in Laney’s POV. The final version is in the third person and is also in Jason’s POV. I chose Jason because The Weaver is really a transition from the real world and the supernatural world of the Weavers. The Watcher and the Ender are told from Laney, Jonas, and William’s points of views now that Laney is fully immersed in the world of the Weavers. Ten years ago, I handed the story to five different friends and asked them to mark it up and give me feedback. The story has changed A LOT. If you’re a writer, take the feedback of others, even if the story is your baby.

Winning a contest and publishing the second book I wrote, Ruby Slips and Poker Chips, gave me the confidence I needed to pursue publication of the Weaver. With a full-time job, I currently have all three books of the Weaver trilogy written and am almost finished with the first book in a new series called The Green Door.

The Weaver has come a long way over the past ten years. It is a true testament to never give up your dreams. Even though I had to change landlines to cellphones, the editing process has been well worth it and I love the way the story has evolved.

Click here to sign up for my newsletter and never miss a book release. You’ll also receive a free copy of Laney’s short story called The Soldier.

The post The Evolution of the Weaver appeared first on Heather Kindt.

The Weaver – Chapter 3

This is it – crunch time! The Weaver will be released a week from Tuesday and I’m super excited, can you tell? Like I’ve said, and you’ve probably read before, it’s been over ten years in the making (sometimes sitting on my computer for lengthy periods). Today, I give you the last chapter I can officially release and it is the one I sent to an agent in New York City many years ago that caught her attention. Enjoy!!

Three

A
picture of a woman in her fifties flashed on the TV screen, as the male anchor
reported about some type of police investigation. Laney rummaged through a
drawer to find the shorts and t-shirt she wore to bed.

“Rose
Stevens is missing. I love her books!” Missy threw her pillow at the television
and pouted drawing Laney’s attention back to the screen.

According
to the reporter, Rose was a romance hero throughout the book community.

“I
think she still hasn’t finished Married By
May. What am I going to read?” Morgan lay on the floor with one of Missy’s
fluffy, pink pillows.

“Maybe
a textbook or two?” Laney smirked before turning her eyes back to the anchor.

He continued
his segment, mentioning that Rose had been missing for a week. Images of her
legions of fans holding vigils outside her Chicago home flashed across the
screen.

“Rose
never left her apartment, but when her agent came to check on her, she was
gone. Police are considering her disappearance suspicious.” The shot of the
anchor changed to more pictures of the romance novelist.

“Well,
I’m sure she’ll turn up sooner or later. Probably a publicity stunt.” Laney was
sure several famous authors disappeared for a few months at a time, avoiding
the spotlight.  

An hour
later, when some C-list celebrity had just finished her cha-cha-cha, the phone
rang, waking Laney from her comatose state. Morgan scooted out of the room with
a not-so-subtle door slam.

“It’s
for you.” With a wide grin plastered on her face, Missy handed Laney the phone.

Laney
grabbed the phone from Missy’s hand, already knowing who was on the other line.
She knew Jason would call, but she didn’t think this soon. “Hello?”

“Can I
come see you?” His voice sounded ragged and desperate.

Missy
appeared to be reading a textbook at her desk, but the page never moved. Her
roommate would probably never let her out, so she agreed to have Jason come
over.

“Sure. We’re
just hanging.”

“I’ll see
you in a few.”

Laney placed
the phone on the bed. Lying back down, she turned her head toward the wall to
try to avoid the questions hanging on the tip of Missy’s tongue.

“Who
was that?” Missy placed her elbows on her knees and leaned forward, the
textbook now on the floor. “He sounded cute.”

Laney
didn’t talk about Jason that much with Missy for exactly this reason. She
wouldn’t understand how to be best friends with a guy and keep it platonic.

“How
can someone sound cute?” Laney raised her eyebrows. “For all you know, he’s a
fifty-year-old professor.”

“Are
you holding out on me?” One corner of her lip lifted into a smirk and she placed
her hands on her hips like a scolding mother.

Laney
sighed and rolled out of bed. She went to the mirror in her closet to brush her
hair. Wincing from the pain in her head, she took it slow.

“I
think you’re holding out on me. I don’t primp for fifty-year-old professors.”
Missy walked over to help Laney brush her hair. She avoided the sore spot and Laney
relaxed, feeling safe and calm. She closed her eyes and imagined her mother
brushing her hair when she was seven years old.  “So . . .” The brush stopped moving. “Do you
like him?”

Thoughts
swirled in Laney’s head. Jason encompassed the feelings of safety and home, but
William was her one true love, even if it meant she was insane.

“He has
a girlfriend.” Laney rotated a pen between her fingers. It was always difficult
to look nonchalant when you were trying too hard.

“That doesn’t
answer my question.” Missy spun Laney around and took her by the shoulders.

“He has
a girlfriend, Missy.” Repeating the words might finalize the conversation. “End
of subject.”

Two
sharp knocks came at the door. As it opened, Jason walked in with a bouquet of
red roses. Biting her lip, she glanced at Missy. Her jaw hung open, her eyes
wide, with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her finger twirled
around one of her blonde locks. She was gawking. Even Laney had to admit he looked
really good tonight. His jeans fit perfectly around his backside and his deep
green shirt really brought out his eyes. She knew that Missy wanted to stay,
more for fly on the wall reasons than
anything else.

“I’m
going down the hall to see Morgan. It was nice to meet you, Jason.” She gave Laney
the thumbs-up behind his back and headed out the door.

Jason
walked over, handed Laney the flowers, and pulled her into an embrace. Could he
feel her erratic heartbeat? When he let go, she quickly scrambled to her
closet.

“Let me
put these in something.” She kept her face away from his as her cheeks grew
hot, certain they were as red as the sign above her parents’ antique store. “Thank
you for the flowers.” Laney kept her back to him. “They’re beautiful.” The only
other flowers she’d ever received were the bouquet of pink carnations her
father bought her on her sixteenth birthday. The birthday Jason never even
acknowledged.

“It’s
the least I could do. I feel like I owe you a lot more.”

She
turned to him. “Don’t be . . .” His face showed the same anguish she heard in
his voice earlier. “Don’t be stupid. I’m fine.” She thrust her head back into
the closet, cheeks certainly glowing by now. After rummaging for a few more
moments, she held up a tall Tupperware container full of dry spaghetti. “Why
don’t you sit down and stay awhile.”

Jason
bypassed Missy’s chair and sat down on Laney’s bed.

Losing
all control over her hands, the container slipped and the spaghetti spilled all
over the closet floor. Jason jumped off the bed to help her pick up.

“I’m
such a klutz.” Laney gathered a bunch of the spaghetti and placed it in a
Ziploc bag. She had to constantly remind herself that Jason had a girlfriend
and she didn’t have feelings for him beyond friendship. It was ludicrous to act
this way when he was around.

“You’re
supposed to rest . . . doctor’s orders.” Jason put the last handful in the bag.
“Come sit down with me.”

His
smile invited her over. Lowering herself onto the bed next to him, Laney tilted
her head back against the wall. The throbbing pain was still there, but it was
numbed by Jason’s presence. She turned her head and smiled at him.

“I
still can’t believe you almost caught that guy yesterday.” Laney finally relaxed,
clutching her furry, turquoise pillow to her chest.

Jason
shrugged. “He took your bag and then assaulted you. What else could I do? I
thought . . .” He looked away, lowering his voice. “I thought I was going to
lose you yesterday.”

His
fingers ran along the edge of the sheet, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle.
“Anyway.” He turned to her with sudden energy, smiling wide. “I figured
whatever was in the bag was pretty important.”

“Yes.”

When
Laney first developed the characters in her book, she had promised she’d keep
it to herself. Her dad had helped her with the historical accuracy, but he was
useless when it came to story writing. Other than Laney’s immediate family, the
book was off-limits. The thought of people criticizing William’s undying
devotion to his country or his relationship with Anne was unthinkable. She knew
they were set in stone. They were real in her mind, and any change put her
fantasy world in a state of disarray.

“Why
didn’t you just let him have your bag? Things can be replaced.” His trusting
smile and proximity were unlike any temptation Laney had faced before. Her
resolve was melting away at a rapid pace. She owed him something for risking
his life.

“I’m
writing a book.” Laney couldn’t look at him. She mentally kicked herself for
giving in so easily to Jason. The ease she felt next to him on the bed unnerved
her. She’d have to find a way to shake it, or she’d do something regrettable.

“And your
book was in your backpack?” He sat up straighter, leaning in. “Wow, I can’t
believe I’m friends with an author.”

“Aspiring
author.” Laney realized that it felt good to tell someone about her writing,
like she was revealing a deep, dark, repressed secret for the first time.

Jason
leaned back against the wall next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. “What do
you write about?” He put his finger to his lips. “Let me guess . . . history.
You know, with your parents owning an antique shop, I’m sure you’ve caught the
bug.”

“Do you
think I’m that predictable?” Laney kept her shoulder against his. Of course,
she was that predictable. Except for the occasional book world stalker, her
life was so far from interesting.

“Don’t
tell me you write horror stories. I can see the storyline now—girl goes to
college and starts killing unsuspecting boys who bring her flowers.” He smiled
and the dimple on his right cheek formed.

Laney
shook her head. “You really like to entertain yourself. Maybe stand-up comedy
is a better career path for you than medicine.”

“Hey,
doctors need a lot of humor to make their patients feel better.” Jason squeezed
her arm. “So, what’s your book about?”

“It’s a
historical fiction novel.”

“Knew
it.”

“It
includes a little bit of everything . . . action, revenge, and romance.” She
hesitated speaking the last word, certain he could tell that she began to feel
the urge to push him down on the bed and kiss him.

“Can I
read it when you’re finished?” Jason’s interest in her writing unnerved her. Laney’s
writing world existed between herself and her characters.

“Only
if you’re patient. With all the school work being thrown at us, it might take a
while.” She walked over to her backpack and pulled out the leather-bound
notebook. “I’d like to have someone to hash out ideas with sometimes.”

“I’m
your man.” Jason sat crisscrossed on the bed.

Laney could
get used to the idea of their friendship. His absence from her life during high
school had left a gaping hole that was hard to fill. Besides, he was easy to
talk to and she trusted him.

She
opened to the first page of her journal. “I’m sorry I ruined your chance of
going on the cruise in the harbor. Missy said they had dinner and a dance.”

“No big
deal. Jennifer was ticked, but she got over it. It’s not every day that you get
to see a beautiful woman almost take down a mugger.”

He
laughed as Laney’s face burned again. He leaned in closer, and she took in
every detail of his face—his hazel eyes, square jaw—she even noted a small scar
next to his lips.

There
was a knock on the door and Missy and Morgan tumbled in giggling, ruining her
chance to discuss her book—and other things—with Jason. Morgan gawked even more
than Missy, pushing her red hair over her shoulder.

“This
is your room. You don’t have to knock.” Laney’s hands were balled into fists.
With Jason distracted by the girls, she made a shooing motion with her hand.
Hopefully, Missy got the hint.

“I
didn’t know if anything was going on in here.” Missy giggled, collapsing onto
her bed. “As your nurse I need to discourage any acts of physical exertion.” Laney
really liked Missy sometimes, but at other times her maturity level made her
hard to deal with.

“Hey, I
was just leaving,” Jason stood up. “Classes start tomorrow, and I want to be
ready.” Disappointment crossed his face, giving Laney the courage to fight.

“You
don’t have to leave.” She wanted to feel comfortable opening her world to someone
else. If she waited, she might chicken out.

“I’d
better get going. You need your rest and I’m sure I’ll see you around
tomorrow.” Jason grinned at Missy and Morgan. “Nice to meet you ladies.”

The
girls giggled as he slipped out the door.

“Thanks,
Missy.” Laney buried her face in the furry pillow.

“You’re
the one who told me that he has a girlfriend. Don’t get mad at me.” She scrolled
through her phone and blasted some god-awful song, while Morgan reclined in the
chair.

Laney grabbed
her backpack, stuffed the notebook inside, and stormed off to the lounge.

*****

Laney’s
first class began at eight o’clock the next morning, so she set her alarm for
seven. As she walked into the bathroom a line of eight girls were mirror-primping,
but at least she found one free shower stall. The exception to the mirror hogs was
Dawn, her resident assistant. The junior hadn’t come to college to earn her
M.R.S. She walked into the bathroom around the same time as Laney, looking like
she just rolled out of bed.

On the
way into the dining hall, she caught a whiff of bacon and her stomach growled.
There were fewer students at breakfast than she expected. Maybe college
students liked to sleep in, or spend excessive time in the bathroom, which was
the case on her floor. Although the bacon smelled good, she decided on a bowl
of cereal and a bagel.

One
wall of the dining hall consisted of only windows, looking out over a large
pond. Lily pads covered the water, encircled by swamp reeds and cat o’ nine
tails. A morning mist rose from the water, and Laney thought she caught a glimpse
of a kayak at the far end. She sat down by the windows to enjoy the view.

She had
a few minutes after finishing her cereal, so she reached into her bag for her
notebook. A piece of paper fell to the floor. She picked it up, thinking it was
a receipt from a local ATM. The texture of the paper was parchment, which she
found strange because she didn’t own parchment paper. When she opened the note,
she saw an etching in impeccable calligraphy:

I am waiting for
you and I am closer than you think.

Did
Jason think this was some kind of funny joke? If it wasn’t him, then Laney
wasn’t sure who would put a note like that in her backpack. She scanned the
dining hall. Two students lounged at the table next to her each reading a book.
A group of older girls engaged in animated talk on the other side of the room.
Nobody appeared suspicious. Nobody paid any attention to her. Laney scratched
her head.

Then it
became clear—the stranger in the subway station, a.k.a. Jonas Webb.

Chills ran through her body. Jonas wanted the journal in her backpack, and he slipped the note into her bag when he took it from her. It made sense. Laney grabbed her backpack and headed for class, looking over her shoulder the entire way.

I hope you love The Weaver. Please order your copy online where books are sold. What do you think of Jason and Laney’s friendship? Do you think they’ll get together?

The post The Weaver – Chapter 3 appeared first on Heather Kindt.

Interview with Alice J. Black

Alice J. Black’s Soul Seekers series comes to an end today with the release of the last book, Facing the Torment. Today, I interview her about her latest book and her writing.

What inspired you to write your latest work? What is special about it?

Facing the Torment is the last in the series of the Soul Seekers Series. I was inspired to write the series originally when replying to a call asking for strong female heroines. Peyton was that woman and she grew in my mind as naturally as a thought and it all went from there. It was when I started thinking about her backstory and how she came to be as strong as she is that I began to write the series and Facing the Torment is her ultimate battle.

What character from your book are you most like? Unlike?

I’m not really sure. In the Soul Seekers Series, I guess I’m parts of both Peyton and Olivia. I tend to be quite confident like Peyton at times and do what I believe in, but I can also be quite stubborn and love to be organized like Olivia!

How long have you been writing? Did you always know you wanted to be a writer?

I’ve always loved writing. I remember carrying a notebook around as a kid and writing stories or scribbling notes on paper. Sometimes I wonder what I wrote, but I always remember feeling comfortable when I did it like I was in my happy place. I think I always knew I wanted to write. As much as I loved to read, I wanted to create the worlds that others could enjoy as much as I did.

I think a lot of writers feel that way. They want to write something others will enjoy. Tell us about your writing process. What’s the journey from draft to published piece?

It can depend on a lot of different things for me. Sometimes an idea will come to me and it’s so forceful that I’ll have to drop everything else to write it. The Demon Hunter series was like that. It started with the first line of the first book and grew from that to a series of novels in a year. Other times it requires a little more thought. Sometimes an idea needs to germinate in my mind for a few days, weeks, or even months before it’ll click together.

Do you plot out every story, or have the characters drive it?

Mostly I have the
characters drive the story. I’ll have a loose idea in my head of where I want
it to start and end up and I let the characters take control. That’s how the
Soul Seekers Series came about. Peyton took control of the story (and her life)
and the adventure moved forward! There have been odd times I’ve planned to the
last detail but I find it doesn’t really work for me.

Where do you write?

I actually converted my spare room into a writing room. I absolutely love it. Being in here surrounded by my books, on my lovely leather chair and looked down upon by some of my favorite collectibles, I feel at home.

Do you have a writing goal you want to achieve? What does success look like for you?

I just want to keep writing. Sometimes that can change for me and particularly now after starting a new day job I’m struggling to work writing into my daily routine. But I want to continue writing, I want to enjoy it and I want other people to enjoy what I create.

It can be tough with a job pulling you in different directions. What helps you most when it comes to writing?

I tend to have a process whereby I like getting up early morning and switching on my laptop. I’ll do any odd bits I have left to do, make a coffee and set the mood with some music (usually the Lord of the Rings soundtrack) and then I write!

Who, or what inspired you to become a writer?

I always remember reading The Hobbit as a kid and being totally immersed in the land of Middle Earth and the journey Bilbo Baggins went on. I loved the world, the characters, the writing and the way I just couldn’t put it down. That was probably my first inspiration as a writer.

Which book has had the most impact on you besides the Hobbit?

Besides The
Hobbit, I’d say the Harry Potter series. It’s affected my life (as it has so
many others) and made me believe in magic just that little bit more!

How often do you write? Tell us more about your other job.

I work full time in a day job. I love my job (although it’s still quite new and I’m still figuring out the ropes) but I do struggle to fit writing in. I’m up at 5:30 for work in the morning and I think I’d struggle to get up earlier to write and when I come home it’s always time for other things like seeing people and eating! Haha. I used to write daily in my previous job but right now, I’m lucky if it’s once a week. But I’m sure I’ll get there!

What’s the best piece of writing advice someone has given you?

Just keep at it. It’s tough. Sometimes you feel like you’re slogging away and getting nowhere. Each day is different, as is each story and it’s about dedication and perseverance.

Do you have a favorite review of your book? Can you share why you like it?

This is a review
for The Leak of Madness by Genre Minx reviews. I love it because it’s honest
and made me feel that I’d achieved what I hoped to do: allow somebody to enjoy
my world and characters.

Well damn if that wasn’t just eighty-two pages of awesomeness! Wow, I loved reading The Leak of Madness! Right from the start of this novella I was all in. Peyton’s character is an alcoholic and she knows it but she is unwilling to change anything. She fears what will happen to her if she is sober far more than what damage she is inflicting on herself. She may not like who she has become and her memories only make living more painful for her but that is a better alternative for her than what she knows is waiting for her on the other side.

When Peyton was younger she realized that she could hear voices, and not just any voices, but voices from the dead. She quickly found a remedy for her predicament and she has been gleefully adhering to her solution for many years. It was not until she was coerced into attending a wedding with her best friend that she was put to the test. She would come face to face with her abilities in the most horrifying way and she would be faced with making choices that up until now she was too fearful to make.

The writing for The Leak of Madness was just riveting. I loved how the story opened up, it gave me a creep out from the start. I hated to see how messed up Peyton was and I am not a fan of her supposed best friend but it did paint a picture that was expressive and tragic. As the story continued I became more disgusted with Peyton’s behavior and as equally intrigued as the side of her she tried so hard to dampen came tumbling out. Loved that! Then, oh man, the creepiness of what took place next, sooo good! I am looking forward to the next novella in this series and I am hoping for some positive character development for Peyton.

What are you working on now?

Right now I have edits for the fourth Demon Hunter novel underway. I’m also working on a couple of short story ideas. After that, it may be a case of going back to the ideas list!

What do you like to do besides writing?

Right now one of
my main things is running. I picked it up just before I turned 30 and have gone
from non-runner to somewhat-runner haha. I struggle with it some days but I
enjoy it and get to run with an awesome group of ladies, my dad and do regular
Park Runs.

I’m also busy wedding planning! We’re getting married in October this year so that, alongside getting a new job and trying to generally manage life, has made things hectic but interesting!

Congratulations, on the wedding and the running! I am so not a runner. Thanks for spending time with us today, Alice. Where can fans connect with you?

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/alice.j.black.doors

Twitter:
@alicejblack

Blog:
https://alicejblack.wordpress.com/

Instagram:
alicejblack

To sign up to my newsletter follow this link:

http://eepurl.com/cTpG29

Alice lives and works in the North
East of England with her partner and slightly ferocious cats! Alice has always
enjoyed writing from being a child when she used to carry notebooks and write
stories no matter where she went. Nothing much has changed and she writes all
manner of fiction with a tendency to lean towards the dark side. Most of her
work is rooted in darkness, her inspiration coming from a macabre selection of
reads as well as the dreams that frequent her sleep.

Her debut novel, The Doors, was released in 2014 and her next novel release, A Shadowed Beginning, the first part in a series of seven, was released in Autumn 2017. She is currently working on the Soul Seekers series. The prequel, The Leak of Madness, was released in Feb 2018, and they will continue to appear every two months. Her first horror novel, The Devil’s Playground, has been unleashed on unsuspecting readers June 2018! Several of her short stories have been included in anthologies with various presses and she is always working on more. When she’s not writing, she always has a book in her hand and will read from whatever genre suits her that day.

The post Interview with Alice J. Black appeared first on Heather Kindt.

The Weaver – Chapter Two

I‘m releasing this a day early because I have an interview on Tuesday with another author.

I wrote the Weaver when I was thirty-two years old. I’d just finished my Master’s degree and had a three and one-year-old at home. It is drawn from a lot of my own life experiences. Madison College in my head, is my alma mater, Gordon College in Massachusetts. I still hold a fascination with the woods behind Gordon. Laney grows up in Derry, New Hampshire where I grew up.

Today, I bring you chapter two. This is where you’ll first encounter Laney’s book, The Soldier. If you scroll down to the bottom of the released chapter, you can get your own copy of Laney’s entire short story for free.

Two

A light
mist speckled the windshield as Jason parked his vintage Duster behind Maxwell
Hall. Madison College sat on a beautifully landscaped hundred-acre plot a few
miles from the ocean on Boston’s North Shore. The ocean often created its own
weather, cooling the campus with sea breezes and rolling fog banks. He pulled
his hoodie over his hair, inspecting a piece of chipped yellow paint just below
his side mirror. Jason made a mental note to sand it down and give it a fresh
coat of primer and touch-up paint next weekend.

Nineteen
steps led up the hill to the front of the dormitory, its wood slick with rain.
Jason counted the stairs whenever he ran up and down them for his preseason lacrosse
workouts. In high school, he played football in the fall and lacrosse in the
spring. Madison didn’t have a football team, but recruited him for his lacrosse
skills. He’d play on both the fall and spring teams for a scholarship, which
helped him afford school.

The lounge
brimmed with freshman back from the Boston trip, hanging all over the tired-looking
furniture. Jason tightened the drawstrings of his hood to avoid the stares of a
group of girls playing cards. His actions backfired as a fit of giggles echoed
behind him. He took the stairs two at a time, ready to just crash.

When he
got to his room, he reached for the doorknob, but stopped. A new name was
etched into the gold nameplate just below his own—William. Jason frowned. He
was so not ready to be social. All he wanted to do was sleep off this day of
mixed emotions. Seeing Laney lying unconscious on the concrete floor stirred
something in him. He wanted more. More with Laney, more out of life. The crowd
he ran with in high school saw him as the partier who was fun to be around. They
didn’t even know he was going to college to become a doctor. Jennifer was part
of that crowd and he knew she’d expect him to make an appearance tonight with
the group of friends they’d already made at Madison. Following the same crowd,
same scene, just a different setting. Laney saw him as something more.

What
was William like? Another partier? No thanks. Jason had his share of those. As
he removed his hand from the knob, faint music drifted under the door.
Something classical.

What
the hell?Jason turned the knob.

*****

Laney
stared out the window of her hospital room at the streetlights below, wondering
if Jonas was staring back up at her. Even with the book stowed safely in her
nightstand, she was still in danger. Words had never been so dangerous as they
were to her now. She had always known that the power of the written word could
change the world: Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, The Communist Manifesto, and the Bible.
She never thought she’d have that power. Of course, as far as she knew, Jonas
could only harm her and wasn’t a danger to anyone else.

Her
parents had left for the night, but promised to be there in the morning to
check her out of the hospital and bring her back to Madison. Laney pulled her
book from the drawer of the nightstand and propped herself up with the pillows.
She handwrote her manuscript, paying special attention to the ebb and flow of
her flowery cursive. Her soul was old. It belonged in an earlier time, not in
the fast-paced present of computers and iPhones.

She ran
her hand across the cover, inspecting it for damage. The tattered leather was
perfect. The original pages had long since fallen out, so her father had taken
it to a binder and had fresh pages enclosed. Tears came to her eyes the day she
opened the gift, and she wondered to whom it had originally belonged. She made
that her charge. In a series of journal entries, Laney created the character of
Anne Lewis, a young woman living in colonial Lexington, Massachusetts.

She ran
her finger over the dates until she reached the one she was looking for:

October 29, 1774

A gentle wind blew through the tall oak and
rustled the pages of my book. Several pages flipped, but I barely noticed. The crisp,
fall air filled my lungs with the musky aroma of the fallen leaves. In the
distance, students mingled on the steps of the schoolhouse. They seemed amused
by a young man. I did not have to be close by to know how his light brown hair
caught glimmers of the sun and his eyes were the same color as the grass after
a rainstorm. I watched him every day in the schoolyard, from my desk in the second
to last row, and in my dreams at night.

William Clarke moved from Virginia to
Lexington two months ago. He was a year and a half older than myself, and that
fact made me keep my distance. I tried not to stare, for it was unladylike and
disgraceful, but at times my thoughts consumed me.

As I watched him today, I caught him
looking back. He inclined his head in my direction, hopped down the steps, and
walked toward me. I pretended to read my book as my heart skipped more beats
than I could count. Glancing down, my ankle was bare, so I pushed my skirt hem
down. Moments later, his tall frame cast a shadow on my page.

“Good afternoon, Anne. Are you reading for
class?” At the same moment, he plopped down next to me.

“No, this book is for pleasure.” My eyes
stayed glued to the pages as I tried my best to hold my voice steady. “It is .
. . my journal.”

“Why are you reluctant to join the rest of
the students in the school yard?”

I could feel his stare on my downturned
face.

“I like to keep to myself.” I raised my
eyes. The thought of spending time with the other students terrified me.

William played with a small stone on the
ground next to him, tossing it up before catching it in his palm. “Would you
like me to walk you home today?”

My smile answered his question.

“Good.” He held the stone in his hand.

The bell rang from the schoolyard. William
jumped up, turning to hold his hand out to me. I took it and he helped me to my
feet, the warm strength of his hand emanating through me.

“I will meet you here by the oak tree.” He
turned and rushed off to class.

*****

William
looked up from his book as Jason entered the room. His new roommate’s brown
hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and Jason recognized the music playing
on the guy’s phone as something by Mozart.

“You
must be Jason.” William smiled, stood up and held out his hand. “I’m William,
but you can call me Will. I arrived a couple of hours ago. I’m sorry if I
surprised you.”

“Not a
problem.” Jason lied. He wished admissions had warned him before he hung
posters of his favorite ballplayers and a couple of supermodels all over the room.
Even though Jason was an only child, he shared a locker room with tons of guys
on the football team.

“So,
did you go to Boston on the freshman trip today?” Jason lifted his hoodie over
his head and flung it on the end of his bed.

William’s
eyes darted to the window as he opened his mouth. “No,” he shrugged. “I’m a
junior.”

Great.
He had offended his roommate on day one.

“Why
aren’t you on the harbor cruise?” William sat back down on his bed.

“Damn,”
Jason muttered more to himself than to William. He’d hear the wrath of Jennifer
for missing it. She’d even gone into Boston to buy a dress at some fancy shop.

            The older boy put his glasses back on and picked up his book,
something about understanding today’s youth. Assuming that his roommate was
just weird, Jason grabbed his toothbrush and went to the restroom to wash up.

*****

When Laney’s
parents dropped her off, her dad made certain that she knew where the medical
center was on campus and that her roommate, Missy, knew the doctor’s
instructions. Despite Laney’s objections, he bought a small first aid kit at
the local drug store. There wasn’t a single item in there that could help her
internal head injury, but she kissed him and thanked him anyway. She hugged her
parents and watched them leave as she stared through the window.

Melissa
Vines scared Laney to death when she arrived at school a week ago. Back in
July, the college had a summer open house for incoming freshman—a perfect
opportunity to meet other freshman and her roommate, but Laney settled on a
phone conversation.

“Hi, is
this Delaney Holden?” Her voice sounded very chipper, like someone trying to
get you to sign up for a new credit card or take some exhausting political
survey.

“Yes,”
Laney replied. Since turning eighteen she had received an onslaught of
telemarketing calls.

“This
is Missy Vines!” she literally squealed on the other end of the line.

Laney
pulled the phone away from her ear. “Hi.”

Missy
scared her more than a telemarketer. It’s a well-known fact that the introverts
of the world greatly fear the extroverts.

“I can’t
wait to meet you. We’re going to have so much fun. Do you like pink? My mom and
I just went out and bought my bedspread.” Missy paused to take a breath, which
surprised Laney more than the fact that her favorite color was still pink.

“I can’t
wait to meet you either.” And believe it or not, Laney meant it. College
excited her, and Missy’s enthusiasm was contagious.

It disappointed
Missy when she found out that Laney couldn’t come to the summer open house. It
also disappointed Laney, because, with Missy’s energy, she’d surely have
several new friends before Laney even walked in the door. Missy was a cheerleader
and student body president at her high school in Maine. Laney’s extracurricular
activities consisted of running and writing. They were her only two outlets.
The story she wrote in her notebook absorbed her life lately. Because she often
isolated herself to accomplish perfection in the two disciplines, she was not
what one would consider a social butterfly in high school.

Missy
wanted to make sure that she took her role seriously as Laney’s caregiver. The
whole floor got together and made her a giant card, which hung on the door when
she returned. Laney had no doubt that the whole thing was Missy’s idea. After
Laney’s parents left, Missy made her lie down and brought her a dinner
consisting of a cheeseburger, french fries, and a soda—all tasting a hundred
times better than hospital food.

With
her dinner in hand and the television on, Laney assured Missy it was all right
for her to go to the dining hall with her friend Morgan. When she finished up
her last bite of burger, Laney clicked off the TV, and took her journal from
her backpack. William and Anne’s first official date spread like a blank canvas
before her.

October 29, 1774

The fallen autumn leaves crunched beneath
my boot as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I traced my finger
along the bark of the tree glancing up at the schoolhouse again. What was I
thinking? What was he thinking? Surely, he could walk Susan home, or even
Elizabeth. They were closer to his age and laughed at his childish jokes. But,
he did not make fun when he was around me. It must be all in my mind, but I
sense an undeniable connection when William was near.

“Anne.” William woke me from my thoughts.
In his hand he held a large red apple. “My wish was to bring you a flower.”

I reached out to take the apple from his
palm. Our fingers brushed, causing my face to flame, so I withdrew the apple
and quickly placed it in the pocket of my dress.

William leaned against the tree, his gaze
on the schoolhouse. Susan and Elizabeth jostled each other down the stairs.
Before I could protest, he reached out and took my hand leading me toward the
forested path—the long way home.

“Perhaps I am beginning to understand you.”
William still held my hand as we ducked below a low-hanging branch.

“And what makes you believe that?” I did
not want him to think that he had me all figured out. I enjoyed remaining a
mystery to him.

William released my hand and held back a
thicker group of branches blocking our path. “You find the characters in those
books you read of higher value than ordinary flesh and blood folk.”

I grinned, opening my book to a well-worn
page. “Why, of course. The world between these pages is of much more interest.”
I traced my finger along the words. “Take Romeo and Juliet. Love like that does
not exist in this world.” Juliet’s words were poetry to me and I held no fear
in sharing them with the man in front of me. “Give me my Romeo, and, when I
shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face
of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no
worship to the garish sun.”

I sighed and closed the book. “Can you
imagine a love like that?”

A stray beam of afternoon light illuminated
the space between us. William stepped closer to me, taking my hands in his,
leading me into the light with him.

His voice lowered. “Yes. I can.”

January 15, 1775

My walk home with William progressed into
many walks home. I truly enjoyed his company. He loved English poetry and we
often read together under the oak tree. William’s friends did not understand
our friendship or connection. They often held looks of contempt. I did not let
this bother me because I knew that William wanted to spend time with me. If
this were not true, he would still be entertaining his friends.

One afternoon, William and I trudged
through the ankle-deep snow in the woods. A silence grew between us. I knew he
was withholding something from me.

When his words came, they cut through the
air like musket fire. “I have been meeting with others in Lexington.” He paused
both his words and steps to look at me. “We meet to discuss the English
occupation.”

William jumped up on a rock. His eyes
gleamed. “Anne, the burden they inflict on our colony is beyond what we should
bear. Action needs to be taken, or they will continue to control us.”

The occupation was a way of life. You did not
confront the crown. “What can we do? They have guns, it is not safe to resist.”
The thought of William standing up to the Red Coats that patrolled the streets
was unthinkable.

“Of course it is not safe, but we must do
something for our families and our people, or we will never be free.” His eyes
did not waver from mine and the veins on his forehead became more pronounced.

“The meetings are treason under British
law. You could be . . . killed.” I scanned the woods even though I knew we were
alone. “Patriots are not tolerated.” I did not understand his passion. All I
cared about was his safety.

“Yes, I know the danger. I do not want to
scare you, but I need to do what is right. How could I do anything else and
look you in the eyes each day?” The hurt in his eyes was difficult to bear.

As we rounded the corner past Turner’s
rock, we saw Jonas Webb hefting a load of firewood onto his family’s cart.
Seeing William, his countenance turned to one of brooding anger and darkness. I
stared at my feet, trying to avoid a confrontation. Jonas had always been
friendly to me at school, and this new look made me fearful. As one of the
older boys, his muscular form was evident even through his loose shirt.
Everything within me told me to turn around and walk in the opposite direction,
but William guided me on a steady course towards town.

“Good afternoon, Jonas.” William kept the
conversation light.

The glare on Jonas’ face deepened. What had
we done to garner this strong of a reaction from the older boy? I moved closer
to William feeling goosebumps creep up my arm.

“We will see you tomorrow.” He continued
his casual tone as we passed Jonas.

I did not dare look back.

When I thought he could no longer hear us,
I whispered, “What is wrong with Jonas?” I will never forget his look.

“His brother was injured last week and my
father could not to save him. That is why he has been out of school. He needs
to help out at home.” William kept our path straight, never slowing his pace.

“But why did he look at us like that? I
could feel the hatred in his eyes.” The thought brought back the goosebumps on
my arms.

William recognized this and put his arm
around me.

“He believes that my father could have done
more. This is a difficult time to be a doctor. Jonas’s family is loyal to
England. He knows about my family. There have been reports that one of the Sons
of Liberty killed his brother. The hatred divides our colony.”

Laney
put her pen down, thinking about the problems she imposed on William and Anne.
Moments later, the door opened. Missy stuck her head in to make sure that Laney
was awake.

“You
need to stop exerting brain power. Put that notebook away and watch some
mindless trash.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.” Laney tucked William and Anne in her bag for the night.

https://dl.bookfunnel.com/eb8mcdchk0

Like I said above, you can read Laney’s entire short story for FREE! The Weaver includes parts of the story, but not the entire book. For subscribers of my blog, I’ve included a free download of The Soldier. Click on the link to sign up and get your free copy immediately. You can read the stories in any order, but The Soldier might hold more meaning for you after you’ve read The Weaver.

The post The Weaver – Chapter Two appeared first on Heather Kindt.

The Weaver – Chapter One

In honor of The Weaver’s official release in just three short weeks, I thought I’d give you a sneak peek: chapter one this week, chapter two next week, and chapter three the following week. I’d love your feedback, so leave me a comment below.

Also, don’t miss out on your opportunity to download Laney’s short story, The Soldier. Click on the link above or to the right to read about William and Anne.

One

“Race
you to the bottom!” Jason punched his subway card into the slot of the
turnstile, proclaiming the hundredth race of the day.

Laney
rolled her eyes and conceded, knowing her card was crammed under her notebook
and multiple other items at the bottom of her bag. She stepped to the side and
crouched by the wall to dig for her card, avoiding the flow of commuters
heading home in Boston’s midweek rush.

“Come
on, Turtle!” Jason called from the bottom of the steps. “The train’s here!”

Laney
cringed at the nickname Jason had pinned on her when they were kids. She didn’t
want him to look at her as a turtle, or as an eight-year-old girl. Not that she
did anything to change his view of her. Her brown hair still hung down her back
in a ponytail.

Jason’s
transformation, on the other hand, was dramatic. He let his dark hair grow out
from the crew cut his mom subjected him to every summer. When he was the
quarterback in high school, his body changed into a man’s before Laney’s eyes,
and she wasn’t the only one who noticed. Jason had a magnetic field that
attracted any teenage girl with a pulse in a one-mile radius.

Subway
card in hand, Laney merged into the sea of humanity trying to keep her eyes
focused on every step until she reached Jason.

“I’m
not playing anymore.” She elbowed him and kept walking to the platform.
“Besides, we’ve got three more things to find on this list before we’re
supposed to be back at the park. We’re going to lose because you want to do
anything besides what you’re supposed to do.”

“Disobedience
is the only way things get done in this world. Didn’t you learn anything on our
tour of Boston about tea parties and that Samuel Adams dude?”

“Yeah.”
Laney laughed. “The only thing you know about Samuel Adams is what type of beer
he makes.”

Jason
Harrison’s smug attitude drove Laney crazy. Besides going to parties in high
school with his football buddies, he followed the rules: class president,
valedictorian, and attending church most Sundays. Responsibility didn’t come
naturally to Jason—it was forced on him when his dad died from a sudden heart
attack. He had to take care of his mom.

The
screech of the wheels on the green line echoed through the tunnel before the
subway light shone in the dark abyss.

Jason
took Laney’s hand to pull her back from the thick yellow line delineating the
danger zone. “Besides, you’d be mortified accepting your prize in front of all
those people. There must be a hundred freshman playing this stupid, mixer game
and I end up with you. I think I know you better than I know myself.”

“You
don’t know everything about me.”

The train
doors opened, Jason took her hand, and they squeezed in with the commuters,
content to hold on to a silver pole. Laney moved against the wall of the train,
blocking out the hordes with Jason’s body. Being this close to him should feel
natural, like breathing, but she felt her nerves tense.

She
glanced around the car at the other travelers. Some were families heading home
after a full day in the city—little ones fast asleep in their mother’s lap or
fussing from a case of being overtired. Others were couples ready to have a
night out on the town. Then there were the outcasts who rode alone. Some
scrolled through their phone, read a newspaper, or had an engaging conversation
with themselves. A large man sat in the corner diagonal from Laney. He was big enough
to intimidate, but it was something else that made her eyes rest on him. His
hair hung past his shoulders entrenched in grease, and he wore period clothing
from the 1700s. Was he part of a reenactment? Something nagged at her because
he appeared familiar. The man raised his head and looked directly at her, so
she quickly set her eyes on her backpack.

She
held it protectively between her legs. Jason didn’t know about her writing. The
journal nestled safely in the bag. The story she wrote, near and dear to her
heart, and no one, not even Jason, would get a glance inside.

*****

Jason
stared at Laney for a few moments before their eyes locked, his usual smart
remark trapped momentarily behind his lips. Of course, he knew everything about
her—she had an overprotective father, was a bookworm and a master of the
Scrabble universe, had legs that could outrun most boys and a sarcastic wit
that saw the truth in most situations. She was the most amazing girl he’d ever
known. Laney Holden was the girl he took for granted. The popularity that came
with being Derry’s hometown football hero had its privileges: girls, parties,
preferential treatment at the Burger Barn—but through those distractions Jason
missed something. His best friend grew up, and just looking at her drove him
crazy. She was beautiful. Not the high heel, short skirt, plastered on make-up,
I’m all that type of beauty he
usually dated, and nothing like Jennifer, his current girlfriend. Laney was
striking, and she didn’t even know it.

“Maybe
we need to catch up on the time we missed.” Jason looked down at Laney’s hand
in his own. It wasn’t like they never touched growing up, but he suddenly felt
on edge. The thought of her rejection overwhelmed him, and he could tell his
touch made her uncomfortable. He let go of her hand and brought it up to his
mouth to fake a cough.

Laney
picked up her backpack and held it to her, making it impossible for Jason to
hold her hand again. Of course, she wouldn’t want to hold his hand. Jennifer
followed Jason to Madison and Laney probably thought that made him off-limits.

She
smiled at him before averting her eyes to a small boy in the seat next to her
playing with a toy car. That was the thing that was difficult for Jason. The
girls he knew were easy to read. He knew what they wanted, and they laid it all
out there, but with Laney it was different. Jason knew her better than any
other girl he’d ever known, but there were parts of her that were a complete mystery
to him.

The
subway pulled into the Park Street station just below the Boston Commons. Laney
removed the scavenger hunt list from the back pocket of her jeans to review the
last three items. They walked with the masses of people until Laney sat down on
a graffiti-covered bench to go over the list once again.

“You
still wear that old thing?” Laney touched a tattered bracelet on Jason’s wrist.

“I never
take it off.” He stretched his sleeve over the bracelet. Laney handpicked the
colors based off a chart she found on the Internet when she was twelve. She
made his purple and yellow. The purple was a school color, but she told him she
entwined yellow because it reflected his personality.

“I
think we should find the Make Way for
Ducklings statues and then head to the swan boats.” She put the list into
her pocket before readjusting her ponytail and swinging her backpack onto her
shoulder.

Jason told
her that it was ridiculous to bring her bag with her when they were planning to
eat out in Faneuil Hall. She put on her stubborn pout and ignored him.

“Race
you to the top!” Laney shouted over the next train pulling in, taking a two-stride
head start. Jason rolled his eyes and chased after the girl who was so far from
a turtle.

When he
reached the stairs, Jason stopped to let Laney have her glory. She was halfway
up before she turned around.

“Give
up already, Turtle?” she taunted and flashed that beautiful smile of hers.
Jason wanted to race up the stairs and kiss her.

But before
Jason could do anything, a man ascending the stairs to the right of Laney, wearing
some type of strange Revolutionary War get-up, grabbed her arm and pulled her
bag off her back. She swung around and slugged him in the jaw, just before he
pushed her backwards down the concrete stairs. Jason’s heart stopped as her
body tumbled into an unconscious heap several feet in front of him.

*****

When Laney
first awoke, she didn’t know where she was or why her head felt extremely
clouded. A constant beeping sound and hushed whispers filled her ears. She
opened her eyes and tried to focus on the source.

“Delaney!”
Her father’s voice made her head hurt, but she was glad to hear it. Adjusting
her eyes to the light, she saw both of her parents leaning over her. She shut
her eyes again, knowing she was safe and hoping to avoid a conversation.

“We’re
here, Laney.” She felt a soft hand on hers. It was her mother.

Laney
kept her eyes closed, not quite ready to deal with the barrage of questions she
knew her parents were dying to ask. And if this were a normal situation with a
normal, everyday, garden-variety thief, she’d be more than happy to divulge any
information they cared to know about the incident. The problem was that it was
so far from normal.

A knock
on the doorframe kept Laney’s eyes shut, afraid of any further intrusion into
her spinning mind.

“Doctor.”
Her dad’s hand moved off the bed as he stood up to greet her physician. “She
opened her eyes a few minutes ago. Does that mean she’s going to be alright?”

Laney
rolled her eyes beneath the lids.

“I’m
happy to see she’s awake. I told you before that it’s a simple skull fracture.
While we take all head injuries very seriously, I assure you that your daughter
will be fine.”

Laney tensed
up inside wondering if she was fine,
or safe for that matter. Images flashed through her head of her attacker—dark,
greasy hair, piercing brown eyes, the penetrating smell of alcohol on his
breath, and his hand on her shoulder. If the thief got away with her backpack,
then he had her book. If she told the truth, she knew her parents and the doctor
would diagnose it as delirium from a head injury.

When
the doctor left the room, she opened her eyes to face her parents. Tim and
Shelly Holden owned an antique shop in downtown Derry, New Hampshire. They had closed
the business for the day to rush down to Boston. Although she was an only
child, it was expensive for them to send her to a private college, but her mom
wanted her to have more to look forward to than taking over the family
business.

“Delaney,
baby, how are you feeling? Do I need to call the doctor back? He could check your
head again, or give you some more pain medication.” Her dad brushed back her
bangs like he did when she was young, avoiding the bandage on the left side of
her head. The momentary feeling of safety smoothed out the jitters that still
ran through her body.

“No,
don’t bother the doctor.” Laney pushed back with her hands to prop her body up
on the pillow.

“Let me
help you.” Her mom fluffed the pillow to support her lower back, which ached
from a fresh bruise. Sore spots sprouted in other areas of her body making her
head fracture feel less severe.

“Shelly,
I told you if she went to a school close to Boston something like this would
happen. The city is full of murderers and thieves.” Her dad bent over and
kissed her head as he said the last words. “Hardly a place for my princess. I’m
sure it’s not too late to transfer to the University of New Hampshire.”

“FYI,
Dad,” Laney spit the words out, “I’m a grown-up! You’re just going to have to
get used to it. Besides, I would’ve been fine if it weren’t for . . .” The
words stuck to her tongue. She’d already said far too much.

“If it
weren’t for what?” His dark blue eyes pierced through her and for a moment she
was afraid he could hear her thoughts.

“Um . .
. if it weren’t for that step I tripped over. You see I was racing Jason, and
the step just reached up and tripped me. It gave that guy time to grab my
backpack.”

“We know
what happened.” Her dad sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Jason told us the
whole story when we arrived at the hospital.” Tim ran his hand through his dark
hair. “It’s all his fault, you know.”

Laney’s
dad had never liked Jason. Maybe he did when Jason was young, but once he hit
high school he was never good enough for her, despite his academic and athletic
achievements. Because Jason’s mom was Shelly’s best friend, Laney’s mom loved
him as her own.

“Oh,
Jason’s out in the waiting room, I’m sure he’s worried sick.” Shelly stood up
and headed toward the door.

“Jeez,
Shelly. Why do you have to get him?” Her dad’s face was sullen. “It’d do him good
to worry about someone else for a change.”

“He
saved her life. He ran after that guy and almost stopped him.” Shelly walked
out the door, refusing to even entertain an argument with her husband.

After
her mother left the room, Laney’s father reached over to the nightstand and
picked up a long chain with a pendant on it. “The nurses took this off when you
entered the hospital, so I held on to it.”

Laney took
the sapphire necklace from her father and quickly latched it behind her neck.
She wore it like a favorite pair of jeans. The inlaid golden spider sparkled in
the light. The necklace never came off, and the realization that she didn’t
have it on suddenly made her feel naked and exposed. Her father found it at an
estate sale in Connecticut when she was ten-years-old. Although he put it in
his antique store to be sold, Laney took it out of the case to hold it at least
once a day. Her parents gave it to her as a present for her high school
graduation and from that point on it had never left her neck. She closed her
eyes again, hoping to avoid any further pressings from him about her attacker.

Laney
heard her father stand up and the bathroom door close before she opened her
eyes to stare up at the grid pattern of the ceiling. An ominous feeling reached
its tentacles into the depths of her stomach. Before she could explore the
feeling further, the door opened and Jason poked his head in through the crack.

“Where’s
your dad?” He slipped his shoulder into the room but kept one foot in the
hallway.

She
pointed to the bathroom door feeling a sharp pain along her ribcage as she
raised her arm. Laney tried to hide her wince, but Jason was by her side in an
instant.

“I’m so
sorry.” He sat on the doctor’s stool next to her bed and rolled close to her. The
safety she felt with Jason there allowed her to push all thoughts about her
attacker to the back of her mind. The glow of the lamp felt warmer, the
hospital sheets were comfier, and the traffic outside on the Boston streets
became a melodic symphony. The thing was, it had nothing to do with romance,
but a feeling of home and safety that she felt whenever Jason was around. She
smiled.

“Can I
get you anything?” He put his hand on hers.

“Yeah,
you can get the hell out of here.” Laney’s dad came storming out of the
bathroom on a mission. “And you can take your hands off my daughter!”

“Dad,
stop!” Laney protested trying her best to sit up straight. The anger boiling
inside her rivaled her father’s and she wasn’t going to make Jason leave
without a fight. “Right now, I actually want you to leave.”

“And
leave you alone with him! I don’t
think so. You should know more than anyone else what he’s like.” He moved
closer to Jason, and for a moment she thought he might punch him.

Jason
stood up, and Laney reached for his hand not wanting to lose the comfort he
brought to her room. “I wasn’t going to stay long. The doctor says you’ll be
released tomorrow, so I’ll come see you at school. It’s just that I wanted to
bring you this.”

He bent
down and picked her backpack up off the floor.

Her
heart leapt. She’d lost all hope in ever seeing it again. “But how?”

“The
man watched you fall down the stairs. He stood there like a statue. Maybe he
thought he killed you. So, I took that moment to run up the stairs and grab
him. He must’ve felt really bad because he dropped the bag.” Jason unzipped the
large pocket revealing the contents inside, the essentials all being there.
“Either that or he was afraid that I’d beat the crap out of him.”

“You
don’t know how much this means to me.” Laney beamed, and even though it hurt
like hell, she pulled him into a hug. She regretted her actions after seeing
her dad’s face turn a strange shade of purple and Jason’s to red.

Jason
backed toward the door and fumbled for the handle. “I’ve got to go. See you
tomorrow.”

*****

Later, as Laney lay in bed, alone in her hospital room, the ominous thoughts and feelings began to grow again. She knew her imagination lost control every now and then, but her gut told her this was not her imagination. The man on the subway and the thief who stole her backpack were the same man, and he wasn’t a stranger. Maybe he was a stranger to every other human being on planet Earth, but not to Laney. She used her words to create a fictional world, a place to escape when the pressures of this world seemed to crash down on her. The book she was writing, her world, was in that backpack, and for some reason, Jonas Webb, her antagonist, wanted the book. She’d know him anywhere and he was here to find her.

Preorder the Weaver

Paperback

Ebook: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, ibooks

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The post The Weaver – Chapter One appeared first on Heather Kindt.

Trailer for The Weaver

When I first wrote The Weaver, the original manuscript included a prologue. Along the way, it got cut from the book. My husband LOVED the original opening because he’s a big picture kind of guy. He loves how the prologue introduces the reader to the world of the Weavers.

Tom wanted to create a trailer for the book, so I agreed to let him use the cut portion. He was in heaven! We used our friend Connor as the voice talent because he’s had a big part in my writing and ideas. Let Tom know what you think in the comments below.

The Weaver will be released on August 20, 2019. Order the paperback or ebook here.

The post Trailer for The Weaver appeared first on Heather Kindt.