Angela Addams's Blog, page 16

Guest Post: Author Ella Grey

Cupid has been a very naughty boy. The Cupid’s Conquest series is a multi-author series started with Gunshy by Seleste Delaney and the latest offering is Irish Kisses by Ella Grey.
Irish Kisses
The thing with love is it’s all about finding that happy ending. Sometimes it isn’t that simple. People have a habit of making it complicated.
Eros can’t be everywhere at once so for this particular match-up he’s got some old fashion help. Serendipity is the muse of happy endings and her brand of help raises questions that fate might be planning in the hand of the blossoming relationship between Abigail Smith and Seth O’Connor. Abigail Smith is having a particularly bad week.
Abby’s best friend and fellow lawyer Dawn Philips has been murdered and while Abby wants to bring down the man behind her death. Her bosses decide that she’s too personally connected. She’s told to take some time off and let someone else handle the case. The thing is, the case is falling apart and Abby just can’t let it go. A mysterious private eye pays her a visit and suddenly Abby finds herself on a plane to Ireland.
There she meets Seth O’Conner.
Seth is on holiday, travelling to Ireland to see the place where he grew up. He expected to drink too much Guinness and have some much needed fun. He didn’t expect Abigail Smith, the beautiful redhead and the blistering hot encounter they share in the aeroplane bathroom. She’s got secrets and it takes a brutal attack for Seth to learn them.Now he has no intention of leaving her side.
Biography


Ella Grey is a full-time writer, with a little monster, a big monster and a cat who might actually be Satan.
The first instalment of the Molly O’Brien novella series was released in 2010. It was quickly followed by the Rachel Valentine eshort series, aimed at young adults. The Red Dress, her first attempt at adult fiction was released by Evernight Publishing as part of their Just Vamps anthology.
She thrives on new challenges and can’t wait to sink her teeth into a new story or a new genre. She can usually be found in front of her netbook with her earplugs in. Bother her at your own peril. You’ve been warned.
For more information about latest releases or a glimpse into the mind of a writer with a full plate, Ella can be found here.
http://www.ellagrey.wordpress.com

Excerpt
“Are you okay?”
She looked up and into the green eyes of the guy who’d checked her out earlier. He actually looked concerned, and it left her wondering what she must look like. “No,” she said bluntly. “If God wanted us to fly he’d have given us a pair of nifty wings.”
He laughed as he sat down next to her. “Then why did you choose to fly?”
“Maybe it’s because I’m lacking anything close to common sense.” She closed her eyes and rested her head on the chair in front of her. She heard a stewardess asking if she was alright, and the guy mumbled something to her.
“It’s okay. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Abby heard something that sounded like a wallet opening. “I’m a cop, so she’ll be okay with me.” A slight pressure on her lower back caused her to look up. “Do you want a drink?”
She nodded. “Anything alcoholic would be great, thanks.” Alcohol would help numb her senses a little. As the stewardess left, she realised the cop was still rubbing her back. It felt nice. If she focused on those small round movements, it took her focus away from the motion sickness. “I’m Abby.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, since you’re touching me I thought we should at least exchange names.” She smiled to show she was kidding.  He removed his hand and Abby felt a swell of panic as the sickness came back suddenly. “Please, don’t stop. It is actually helping.”
He put his hand back and Abby looked down at the ground again.
“I’m Seth.”
“So you’re really a cop?”
He chuckled and it was the most dangerous sound Abby had ever heard, it made her heart pick up its steady pace and the dark place between her legs wet. “That’s want the badge usually means.”
She smiled, even knowing he couldn’t see it. She heard the stewardess come back with their drinks, and she slowly got up. Seth handed her one of the bottle of beer. “I’m sorry I don’t think they have anything else, unless you want water?”
“No this is perfect, thanks.” She brought the bottle to her lips and took a slow drag from it. “I’m sorry for ruining your flight.”
“Not at all, I came over here to talk to you anyway.”
His bluntness took her breath away, “Really, why?”
He took a quick drink and Abby watched as his tongue flicked out to catch a bead of liquid at the top of the bottle. “Just curious, are you visiting family?” He asked, quickly changing the subject.
She shook her head. “I’m visiting for work.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer, but I’m doing a little freelance work at the moment.” While it wasn’t a complete lie, she didn’t want to go into any gory details. She didn’t want him to get that look of sympathy that everyone at her office seemed permanently fixed on their faces. “I’m going to Dublin. I’m looking for someone.”
Abby took another pull from the bottle. It felt good to be able to talk to somebody. For one it took her mind off her travel sickness, and since she found it hard to drag her eyes away from him, it was an added bonus. Now if she could just stop thinking how it felt to have his hand on her, it would be perfect.

Just like riding a bike...right? right?

This week (and a few weeks leading up to this week) is a busy and stressful time at my work. One of four high-stress times that happen each year at my work. Everyone I work with has a deadline to meet which requires a lot of preparation leading up to said deadline. Now, I know I’ve talked about my type-A behaviours in the past, but for those of you who don’t know, I’m a bit of a brown-noser (my husband likes to make kissing noises when I tell him something I’ve done at work that he believes is over the top...this happens frequently.) When I have a deadline or I agree to do something, I do it. Usually immediately...or as soon as humanly possible. I don’t like to sit on work and once I start, I do it until it’s done. I’m dependable...some might say anal...others curse and or mock me. 
Every year, four times a year, I get the same question from someone in the building who doesn’t know me well enough to know better... “Hey, Angie, you get your project done?” If I’m alone, I simply nod and say, “yep, I did.” If I’m with someone who knows me, they usually answer on my behalf, “Who, Angie? She got it done two days ago.” Snort. (I’m sure you can see why my husband makes ass-kissing noises.)
This is the way I am. I can’t change it. I don’t slack off. Ever.
I’ve heard some writers say that the only way to be a successful writer is to treat it like a job. To set goals and work every day whether you feel like it or not. I don’t believe in a muse and I don’t believe in writer’s block. I do believe that your ability to write (and I’m not talking skill but the act of sitting down and writing) is dependant, to some extent, on your state of mind. A person, an event, life in general can impact your ability to sit down and get the job done. I haven’t been very good at my writer job these days. I've been getting part of the job done...the editing part but the actual writing...yeah...not so much. The ideas are there...the plan is set, the outline written, but up until a week ago, my drive was M.I.A. It's an unusual and uncomfortable feeling for a type-A to not have a goal. 

It hasn’t been a great year for me. Which is probably the understatement of the century. 
I have some wonderful friends (both virtually and in real life) and supportive family who have been working hard to get my ass back in the game, to help boost my mood and my confidence. They stroke my ego, they give me love and slowly, slowly I am feeling more like my anal, brown-noser writer self. I’m not working to my potential...yet...but I’m getting there. 

So, those of you in the same boat, chin up, tits out (thanks Tammy ;-) and keep on writing...sooner or later you'll figure out how to ride that bike again.

Stay Put!!!

I had an interesting experience the other night....got myself all geared up about an old manuscript that I'd written five or so years ago, remembering how awesome the story was, how much praise I got (which was strangely a lot, and not just from friends and family), how much I missed the characters. So, I took a deep breath and forced open that big ol'trunk where the old manuscripts go to die, dusted it off and started reading...and editing.

I thought it was going to be a case of one quick read-through and then it would be fit for public consumption...hehehe...um, yeah, not so much.

It's funny what a handful of years, a couple of agents, a few published novellas and a lot of rewrites, edits and crits can do to your writing ability. The first few chapters flew by and my confidence was soaring, pumping that feeling of, "hell yes, this was the BEST idea ever!!!"

And then I got to chapter four.

That's when I realized that sometimes there's a reason why novels end up in the trunk, never to see the light of day. Somethings are just unfixable. Somethings are truly cringe-worthy. And I mean, CRINGE!

I actually felt embarrassed that I'd sent it out to publishers...like, BIG publishers. I couldn't understand how I'd even had a few near misses with it...or, gasp, how I got my first agent with it!

Maybe I'm looking at it too critically, and perhaps the story itself might be salvageable, but I gotta say, pulling out that trunked ms was one of the most profound experiences I've had in a while. I realized that although there are times that I feel like my writing career couldn't move any slower, in the time that I've spent honing my skills, I've actually accomplished something...growth.

So, by all means, pull that old ms out, dust it off, give it a read but don't let it get you down if it's so embarrassingly bad that you want to cry, cause really, the fact that you can recognize the flaws means that you've developed as a writer and that is a wonderful thing.

Kill the Slayer?

How do you kill a vampire?

In the past it was easy...you called Buffy or Blade or Van Helsing...they used their swords, their fists, their stakes, their rosaries and holy water.

Now-a-days though...well...it's not so easy. If you called a slayer, would they come?

It seems to me that we've kind of eliminated the need for slayers. We've created these vampires as of late that we seemingly require no protection from. Vampires who only exist to fall in love with us. Vampires who will defend us to the death. And a good thing too because our new vampires have very few weaknesses. They don't believe in religion any more so crosses and holy water are out. They can walk in the sun (sometimes they do so with a ring, sometimes they simply sparkle --barf) so we can't blast them with some ultraviolet. And stakes? Those silly little toothpicks? Yeah, even if you could get close enough, you'd never be able to do it. Why? Because we've got this crazy idea that monsters are simply misunderstood. We've adopted this complacent attitude that everyone (including sparkling vampires) deserve a chance to live...even if they do require blood to sustain life. I mean, they only suck animal blood right? They can control their impulses. Right?

I, for one, think that the slayer has been given a raw deal. Shoved aside in the name of romance and kindness and all things barf worthy. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love a good vampire romance (LOVE me some hot, sexy vampires). For goodness sakes...I write vampire romance! But come on, folks! Don't you think it's about time we brought back the slayer?

If we keep romanticizing our villains, one day, when they do turn around and bite us, we'll realize that we've got no one to come to our rescue and no way to defend ourselves. And we'll only have ourselves to blame.

Guest Post: Author Anthony J. Rapino: Plot This

My feelings on Plotting are best described thusly: screw that asshole.  Sorry to be so blunt, but we just don’t get along, Plotting and I.  It could be due to a long held grudge after Plotting stretched plastic wrap over my toilet seat, causing me to splash my feet.  Or perhaps the time he left me stranded out on Highway 19 with no map, money, or phone.  It could even stem from the time I walked in on Plotting and my girlfriend making the beast with two backs.  Whatever the reason—and there are plenty—I simply refuse to speak to him anymore.  We’ve parted ways.
Here’s the thing about outlining that some people don’t get: it is not mandatory.  It’s all about what type of writer you are (which is largely determined by what type of person you are, but that’s another post).  It’s like I tell my students.  If you find yourself staring at a blank screen with no idea how to start your essay, you should probably employ some combination of prewriting techniques (cluster mapping, free writing, brainstorming, outlining, etc).  If, however, you find those methods tedious, skip it.  If you can sit down at the computer and just write, more power to you.    
I never did try to plot in earnest.  I remember very early on sitting on my bed with a blank sheet of paper, attempting the old “Roman numeral” outline.  That mistake very nearly landed me in the psyche ward.  I won’t go into details except to say it involved three unsharpened pencils, a bottle of glue, glitter, and the aforementioned outline.  It wasn’t pretty.
Put simply, my brain doesn’t work that way.  I can’t think out an entire story before ever putting pen to paper.  I can’t sketch out character traits before meeting the characters themselves.  I have to shake their hands and pat them on their shoulders.  They have to talk to me and tell me what sort of people they are.  Or, in other words, I just have to write.
I start with a scenario.  Often the scenario comes to me at unexpected times, on the toilet perhaps.  It could be anything.  A man falls into a hole.  A woman discovers strange, blue goo on her car.  Two children are attacked by man-eating crabgrass.  I start with whatever scenario comes to mind, and then I keep writing.  The story unfolds in front of me.  I never know how it’s going to end until I get there.  Sometimes it’s the main character that whispers to me, “Hey, Dillhole, give me a knife, make the antagonist a sea-dwelling octoman, and let’s see where it takes us.”  Other times, the story just happens. 
The thing is, I have to trust in my method.  This, right here, is why some people can’t write without an outline: they freeze up.  They need to know what comes next, otherwise it’s next stop writer’s block.  The other thing is I have to be okay with tossing my words into the virtual garbage heap.  When you write like this, without plotting, you’re going to have some false starts.  You’re going to have unnecessary scenes.  You’re even going to have aborted characters.  When you edit, you have to be okay with “killing your darlings.”
If all of this sounds like so much horse crap, you’re probably a plotter.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  Not at all.  Remember, I said it’s all about what type of writer you are. 
The last thing is, you have to figure that out for yourself.  Because if you don’t know what type of writer you are, no amount of advice is going to help you.





Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card!
Collect all twelve game pieces (available from each blog stop during my tour), put the pieces together, and decipher the code.  It will lead you to a secret website.  If you’re the first person to comment on the site, you win!
Join us in the Insanity Rocket to discuss the contest.
Stop by the blog tour page for all upcoming dates and more contest info.

I am very proud to announce the launch of my debut novel, Soundtrack to the End of the World , currently available in signed limited hardcover, trade paperback, and ebook editions.
Who knew the end could sound so good.
A suicidal nudist strolls into traffic.  An eccentric Buddhist claims he can occupy other people’s bodies.  All the while, whispers of a new form of entertainment blow through town.  Prompted by these strange occurrences, Marty Raft, a not-so-gentle giant, investigates and discovers underground clubs peddling music that induces an out-of-body experience.   Marty and a wannabe comedian, Corey, set out to prove these special frequencies are nothing more than a hoax, or at worst, a mass-drugging.  Instead, they uncover a secret with world-ending possibilities.
If you can hear the music, it’s already too late.


Author bio

Anthony J. Rapino resides in Northeastern Pennsylvania, somewhere between the concrete of the city and the trees of the forest.  On occasion, you’ll find him moderating the feverish battles between the creatures of these two arenas.  Whose side he’s on is anyone’s guess.
His newest fiction can be found in Black Ink Horror, On Spec, Arcane Anthology, Electric Spec, A cappella Zoo, Space Squid, TQR Stories, and carved inside a variety of autumn gourds.  His short story collection, Welcome to Moon Hill, is currently available, as is his first novel Soundtrack to the End of the World.  Proof of his psychosis can be found on his website: http://www.anthonyjrapino.com

Not a Lottery Winner

Just as the title suggests, I'm not the lottery winner type of girl. In life, I rarely win things. And no, I don't usually play the lottery. I know someone is gonna say, if you don't play then how could you win? Which is true, can't win if you don't play, but I'm also not delusional...the odds are against me (or so my husband say...and he's a smart man).  So I watch with envy when some out of work baker, who spent his last five dollars on a lottery ticket, wins fifty million, knowing that that will never be me...not even if I played my numbers every week. That's just not the way things roll in my life.

So what does this all mean? It means that I'm not gonna win the lottery in any other areas of my life either, including writing. It's awfully frustrating when I hear about the person who writes a novel in six months, queries briefly and then gets some holy crap amazing agent and then lands a six figure book deal, all in less than a year. Those are the lottery winners. We've all heard the stories. They go on to have best sellers and make gads of money. Color me green.

I'm not one of those people. I've accepted that. I'm the type of person who is gonna have to bust my ass to get my dream. Not to say that I haven't had my share of good luck...but it was good luck, being at the right place at the right time and working my tail off that got me there. It means I'm gonna be the author who does years of rewrites to get the ms just right. It means when my dream finally comes, I'm gonna weep with a mixture of joy and exhaustion.

Since I started down this publishing path, it's been a long haul, and at times I whine and bitch and think about quitting, but in the end this is the way things are...in order to achieve my dream I'm gonna have to work for it. But I'm not the kind of girl who shies away from hard work. I might have a fleeting moment or two where I think about how nice it would be to have something handed to me, but in the end I'd rather have faced a battle and come out victorious then wonder if I really deserved what I got.

So there it is. I'm not passing judgement on anyone who may have won their dream, I'm just saying that's not going to be the way things go for me.

I'll leave the lottery playing to my bff...she's promised to take care of me if she wins ;-)

Guest Post: Interview with Darke Conteur

      When I discovered that my author friend, Darke Conteur was a practicing Wiccan, I couldn't help but be intrigued. I'm not a religious person (at all), I'm not spiritual either, but I always have been fascinated by Wicca and thought this would be a great opportunity to explore it from a more personal perspective. 



1)   When did you first discover Wicca?
It was about a year after my son was born. My neighbour had some crystals and a small book onwhat they were and what they did. I found it all fascinating and was thrilled to learn that she boughtthem from a store in town. It was an occult store and when I checked it out I discovered a whole book section on Wicca. So I bought one! 
2)   What compelled you to follow that religion?
While I was reading the book I bought, I felt as though many of the things they talked about; many of the things Wiccans (and to a greater extent, Pagans) revered, were the same with me. I can't really put it into words, only that it felt like I was 'home'. I've never been a follower of Christianity, not even when I was a child (and my grandfather was an Anglican minister). Wicca, and the Pagan path felt 'right', comfortable. I don't know of any other way to explain it. It was if everything I believed in about life, the world around me, was echoed in this belief. 
3)   Do you find that there’s a stigma attached to practicing Wicca?
The only stigma that I've come across, is from people don't think of it as a form of belief. They think it's some kind of 'fad' for young teen girls who've watched Charmed or Buffy or read too many fantasy books, so when they come across an adult who practices, they figure we're just being silly. My mother asked me when I first started learning, if I was doing it for shock value.
 4)   Does your faith influence your writing? 
Very much so, but I think that's something that happens with all writers. Some form of our belief is embedded within all our books, because our beliefs are a part of us; a deep part. Just like our writing. I think they come from the same place, actually. 5)   Do you get angry or frustrated by how traditional “witches” are portrayed in media and even literature?
Yes and no. I love the imagination that comes with the literary and Hollywood portrayals, but it also adds to the stigma. I'd love to be able to ride a broomstick or use Floo powder or be able to use a power to fight evil, or recite an incantation and have something wonderful happen, but that's just fantasy. Real magic doesn't happen instantaneously, and it takes a while to learn how to do it right. I guess that's what makes it such a draw for readers.       

To learn more about Darke, check her out here:

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Guest Post: Author Krista Walsh

I'd like to introduce a writer friend of mine, the talented Krista Walsh! I thought it might be fun to do a little bit of a first date kinda thing with Krista and have her tell us about some of her favourite things...the kind of things she can't live without.


Favourite food:  Yes, I realise I cannot live off of peanut butter and chocolate, but no that will not stop me from trying.  My love of Reese Peanut Butter Cups kind of a took a turn for the obsession when they came out with KitKat crunchy peanut butter bars (do they still make those? …) and Peanut Butter M&Ms. Now, I will happily consume anything that combines these two incredible amazing ingredients. And yes, on a bad day that includes jar of peanut butter, a handful of chocolate chips, and a spoon.  (I am totally a peanut butter, chocolate combo addict as well!!!)

Favourite Movie: “Too bad bread makes you fat.” “Bread makes you fat?!” This movie is a collection of one-liners and I’ve pretty much memorized them all. Best description of this film for those who haven’t seen it: it’s a musical, except instead of bursting out into song, they burst into video game-style boss fights. There are films I’ve known longer and seen more times, but probably no other that enters so often into daily conversation. Scott Pilgrim also stars my Hollywood Crush, which makes it an all around perfect film and a great indulgence at the end of a bad day. Sometimes with a jar of peanut butter. 
Generally in life, I wouldn’t say I’m high maintenance. It’s possible my friends will laugh at this statement, but since they’re not here right now, I’ll go ahead and say it anyway.  The exception to this rule? I’m never at a comfortable temperature. In the sun I’m too hot, in the shade I’m too cool, at work I’m frozen. The only time I’m ever perfect? When I’m sitting in front of my space heater. It’s safe to say the thing is permanently on from October to May. A perfect winter’s day for me (and it’s Canada, so those days stretch out over half a year) is to be in a small corner with a heater and a book.
Favourite Book: Possibly even this book. If we were talking stranded on island with only one thing to read for the rest of my life, I’d go with this one. I tried to find the cover of the edition I have, but apparently it was a one-time deal. My grandmother got this book for my 14thbirthday and I’ve read it once or twice a year since then. And that was awhile ago. Yes, it’s a sweet tale based in a simpler, early Canadian time, but it’s the honesty I love. Not the moving, thought-provoking kind of honesty either. More the: life sucks, so why waste what short time we have doing what everyone expects of us? Highly recommended for the humour and the wake-up call.
Favourite album: I wouldn’t say Snow Patrol is my favourite band because my music taste is pretty eclectic, but I would consider A Hundred Millions Suns my go-to album. It’s the most versatile – easy to put on in the background and forget when I need to focus, but engaging when I need to be distracted. It also has a lot of lyrics that stand out for their incredible imagery and poetry.
Pretty much my life in a nutshell, or…in a peanut butter jar next to a heater with a good book and background music. Interested in learning more? Click on the links below to step into my brain.

www.theravensquill.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/krista_walsh

It says something about a person when her own parents believe she’s a bit round the bend. Prone to talking to herself, and with only one foot in reality, Krista Walsh has long accepted that normalcy is overrated. A lover of all things gothic, and fantastical, she tags along on the adventures of sorceresses and vampires, bringing their stories to the mundane place that is the real world. 

Bizarre Love Triangle

I've been reading a few books lately and toying with an idea or two that revolves around the plot of a love triangle. You know, that crazy, often sticky kind of relationship where one person is being pulled in two different directions...sometimes because of lust, sometimes love...either way, things tend to get messy when there's three instead of two.

It occurred to me that I don't really like that kind of plot device...it makes me anxious, and at times, angry. To be torn between two opportunities, to have to make a choice...it's hard on the heroine (or hero) and on the reader and on the writer. And yet I always get totally sucked in (have actually written a thing or two involving a triangle). So why the fascination? Why do we love the triangle scenario so much?

We are a society that tends to value monogamy right? We quest for the one true love. We want the happily ever after. I'm thinking about writing sometime that doesn't end that way. What if the heroine (or hero) makes the wrong choice? What if they don't realize what they had until it was gone? Then what? Can the damage be repaired? Broken hearts are hard to mend. They carry scars that are unforgiving.

I'm intrigued by the love triangle...you can thank Peeta and Katniss (and Gale) for this. They got me thinking. It's time to shake things up a bit. It's time to make my heroine bleed.

*Rubs hands together* Let's get to work. Insert evil laugh here.

Have We Castrated our Vampires?

I've been thinking a lot about the current state of our vampire world. I mean...the main stream, universally accepted vampire world. Now, don't get me wrong, there are many, many novels and movies out there that depict vampires in various ways. In general though, when we talk vampires, nowadays, most people think the romantic hero kind of vampire. The suave, beautiful, desirable vampire. The hero with a dark side or the villain with a good side. And I don't dislike this type of vampire...unless it's the sparkly kind...but I feel like there's something missing...like we've castrated our monsters, defanged the fanged, turned our nightmare into our fantasy.

I've been craving the blood and gore kinda vampire. The ghoulish monster who will rip limbs off and suck them dry. The kind of vampire who stalks the streets in search of prey...not the kind who stalks the halls of the local high school in search of a girl friend. I want to be scared. I want to have nightmares. I want to read about vampires who need to be destroyed, who deserve to be destroyed. Like Dracula...Stoker's version...the kind of vampire who eats babies and corrupts young innocent women, not for love but for pure, animalistic pleasure.

I want to move away (at least for a while) from the whole idea that vampires, that monsters, are simply misunderstood. That deep down they have hearts that love and consciences that keep them from being truly evil. Really, what are we teaching our youth? That monsters are really good? That there's nothing to fear? That we need to just give them a chance? It's a terrible injustice to the next generation when you think about it. We've set them up to be little, naive lambs...we've gifted them a world where vampires can be boyfriends who have enough self control that they suck animal blood instead of human. And we've made them practically unkillable...but that's a topic for another post.

Now, I know you're all thinking, Angie, why don't you write that kind of novel? Well, folks, because I'm a hypocrite...and a romance writer and although I want to be scared by a brutal vampire killer, I can't bear the thought of veering too far away from my own vampire heroes. So, this is a call out to someone, anyone, who is brave enough...write me a monster...give our vampires back their balls.