Hello Lexxx!
I must say, I’ve been delighted reading your bio and getting
to know all about you! I especially
loved your anecdote about you and your husband being the Herman and Lily
Munster of your neighborhood!
You mentioned that the superstition that tends to linger
throughout the Southern culture influenced your writing. Where do you get your unique story ideas to
keep the paranormal genre fresh and exciting?
A)
The South is like a breeding ground for crazy
people. As Julia Sugarbaker once said,
“We don’t hide our crazy people in an attic or an institution. We display them proudly on the front porch.” All I have to do to find interesting
characters or plot lines is look at people and events in my own home town. Southern Gothic, as a genre, has always been
of interest to me because of the idea that a place that seems so idyllic can
have a really nasty underbelly. There’s something
inherently creepy about a place where everybody knows everybody and has for
generations.
OMG! I just read your
September 4th blog “The Objects of My Affliction, or When I Realized
I was a Weirdo” and had to roll my tongue back in my mouth. You and I have the same tastes in men! Besides hunky English and Scottish men, what
else gives you inspiration?
A)
Well what do you need besides hunky
Englishmen? My favorite meme of the
moment says “Save a horse, ride an Englishman.” How true. But I find inspiration in the world around
me. Art and music are essential for me
as a writer. Sometimes a turn of phrase,
an instrumental passage of music or a small detail in a painting can set off a
whirlwind of creativity. I look for
people and things that give me a clear picture in my mind or perhaps just frame
something I’ve already got cooking. I’m
also a HUGE movie and television buff, so I find so much inspiration in those
things as well. I’m always glad to share those little inspirational
tidbits—come see me on Pinterest and Spotify.
Your newest book is
“Beast of Burden” is a reimagining of the classic tale “Beauty and the
Beast”. Can you tell us a little more
about Cianan and how he became a werewolf?
A)
Beast of Burden is set in a fairy
tale like world with noble knights and lonely princesses. Cianan Marek is the king’s most trusted and
fierce knight. In a war far beyond the
farthest reaches of the kingdom, he is attacked by a mercenary, fighting for
the enemy. The mercenary is a werewolf
and though Cianan escapes with his life, he doesn’t escape the curse of
becoming a vicious creature of the night.
To keep his “condition” a secret, he is sent home to be the Lord
Governor of the tiny village of Kaspar.
Everyone in the town fears him, having heard rumors that he is cruel and
grotesquely scarred. Of course, once our
heroine Sascha comes on the scene we see that he is quite the opposite.
Well…
except for that werewolf thing…
Thank you so much, Lexxx, for visiting with me today!
Blurb:
Sascha had
been a slave of Kaspar all her life.
Having never known love, she sought refuge in the pages of books and the
kindess of her old master. When
he goes off to the marketplace in a neighboring town, he offers to bring her a
gift. All she asks is a single, red
rose. Little does she know that such a
simple treasure will change her life forever.
Rumored to be a scarred and cruel man, Cianan Marek has been
searching for a kindred soul. His life
as warrior came to an abrupt end when he was attacked by werewolves in the
Outlands. Bitter and alone, he has been
hiding a terrible secret since returning to Kaspar as Lord Governor. In this adult retelling of the classic fairy
tale, Beauty and the Beast, Sascha and Cianan learn the power of destiny and
that some beasts lurk in the most unlikely of places.
Excerpt:
He
shouted, pushing her forward again. She fell forward hard and struck her head
on a root from the oak tree, feeling the warm blood bead on her skin and then
start to weep down her forehead. She crumpled to the ground, clutching her head
and whimpering groggily. She couldn’t even respond as he pulled her up on her
knees, but could hear the rustling of fabric behind her as he fumbled with the
laces of his pants. She closed her eyes, steadying herself for the inevitable,
when she heard the low growling.
Lescoux must have heard it too, as
he paused, letting Sascha go and walking toward the trees. “Who’s there?” he
shouted into the dusky darkness of the forest.
Another
growl answered, this time louder and more threatening. Whatever it was closer
now, stalking them. Suddenly Sascha wasn’t sure of the lesser of the two evils.
Raped and beaten by Lord Lescoux and left for dead, or devoured by whatever
that creature was. “It seems,” she began breathlessly, still holding her head,
“that you’ve awakened something in the dark more evil than yourself, Lord
Lescoux.”
“Shut up,” he hissed, creeping
around the edge of the clearing. “Whatever it is will go away if you keep
quiet.”
Obviously Lescoux didn’t see the
towering black wolf that trotted into the clearing. Sascha shrank, afraid to
make a sound for fear of the animal seeing her. She suddenly remembered the
story Anya had told her about Lady Isabella and her blood ran cold. She made a
small noise and tried to back up on her knees behind a tree, but the wolf
detected the movement and turned his head toward her. She froze, locking eyes
with the animal. Its amber eyes stared at her with an almost human-like
intelligence. Curls of breath emanated from its open mouth as it let out
another growl of warning.
Ioin stood motionless and Sascha
could see his hands shaking. What a coward, she thought. So brave while
assaulting an innocent girl on her own, but pissing down his leg at the sight
of a wild animal. He looked at her, his eyes pleading. She knew the beast had
him cornered and would spring if he moved so much as a muscle. And though she
wasn’t too keen on watching a man torn to shreds, she was certain this may be
her only escape from Lord Lescoux’ designs.
“Sascha,” he said, his voice calm
but quivering. “My dagger…” She looked down by her side and noticed that his
sash and dagger lay on the ground where they’d been discarded in preparation of
his attack. The sight filled her with rage and power and she fixed her gazed in
a stoic expression. “Slave! Do as I say!” he hissed. “We’ll both be killed, you
stupid whore!”
He
took a step toward her and the wolf sprang, landing between them. Its roar was
deafening and Sascha screamed, covering her ears. She thought that surely it
was going to tear her throat out then, but instead the beast turned, taking a
protective stance in front of her and snorting at Ioin. It was as if the wolf
was waiting for the man to make another move. Sascha could see the powerful
muscles of the animal’s back moving up and down with its breath and for a
moment she was sure she could hear its heart beating. It made almost a barking
noise at Lescoux as if to challenge him. Sascha could see that the man was
terrified, still as a stone, afraid even to breathe. Ioin reached out for
Sascha again, but the wolf roared again, indicating that this was as close to
the girl as he was allowed to get. He backed off slowly, keeping his eyes on
the wolf as he picked his way through the clearing and into the forest behind.
The last thing Sascha remembered before swooning was the icy blue eye of the
wolf, staring down at her.
