Hello! Thank you so
much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!
Q) Do you have any
habits that get you in the writing frame of mind?
Loud music and rainy days!
I have a play list simply titled “writing” that has everything from
Swedish death metal to One Direction that I play to get me into the mood to
write. I search Pinterest for pictures
related to whatever piece I’m working on and pin them to an inspiration
board. For me, both visual and auditory
prompts help me get in the mood to write.
And, in the end, a gloomy, rainy day is the perfect time to settle down
and be creative!
Q) Is this part of a
series? If so, tell us about it!
Yes! The Lazarus
Society is going to be (at least) a trilogy following archeological digs/ghost
encounters that Madison works. They
won’t be limited to the American Civil War, but will branch out into other
areas and time periods. I’m writing them
as a series, but since they will be about vastly different areas, they would
work as standalones as well.
Q) How much real life do you put into or
influences your books?
Real life always influences my writing.
In With Me Now, I based a lot
of Liam’s quirks and manner of speech on the guy who sat on the other side of
my work cube wall. The Lazarus Society
series is about archeologists and, in reality, I’ve only spent about two days
out of my life volunteering on an archeological dig. Those two days, though, inspired my book!
I don’t think you should limit yourself to only “writing what you know”
but I use what I know, what I’ve experienced, and even the way I talk, into my
writing. The rest I just research until
my fingers go numb!
Q) What are your
upcoming projects?
I am working on the sequel for With Me Now and another paranormal/murder mystery. My upcoming release is a historical fiction
titled Anything You Ask of Me about
the American Civil War. It will be
released on August 4, 2015 as a hardcover and an ebook.
More About Heather...
1. Are you
a pantser or a plotter? I’m
definitely a pantser. I can probably
count on one hand (with fingers left over) the amount of times I’ve plotted out
my books. I think it reminds me too much
of forced outline writing in college! I
like to just sit down with music and write until I stop. Or fall asleep (FYI: kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
does not count as novel writing, haha).
2. What authors have inspired you to write? I am inspired by the passion and commitment
of JK Rowling and her ability to create entire worlds with their own laws,
rules, games, and forces or good an evil.
Robert A. Heinlein inspires me with the foresight and creativity he
showed science fiction in 1950s and 1960s.
And, of course, George R.R. Martin inspires me with this spunk, sass,
and commitment to writing the way he wants to write.
3. How important are names to you in your
book? For me, naming a character is
like naming a child. You’re going to be
with this person for the entirety of your book/series. Try going outside and yelling the character
name over and over again. If you don’t
get sick of it, that’s the name you should go with. This is also how my husband and I named our
second child.
4. Is there a certain type of scene that’s
hard for you to write? I’m bad with
sex scenes. For the sex scene in the
first historical novel I wrote, I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the
screen while I typed.
5. What is With Me Now about? With Me Now is about Madison Monroe, a college student on her first
archeological dig. She’s working in
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and finds something buried on the battlefield she
didn’t expect to find.
6. How much research did you do? I’ve been Civil War reenacting since 2001
and met my husband at Gettysburg, so I’m very familiar with every nook and
cranny of the battlefield. In 2004, my
husband and I were volunteers at Harpers Ferry National Historical Park in the
living history department. For
approximately two days, I worked on an archeological dig and, from that, this
novel was born. Most of the research I
did was archeological terminology and techniques of speaking/interacting with
ghosts.
7. What writing advice do you have for
aspiring authors? Never quit. It’s too easy to get frustrated: with
writing, editing, submitting, rejection.
If this is what you want, work for it!
Believe in your idea and your writing.
8. What are you working on now? Right now, I’m working on the sequel to With Me Now, toying around with two
other paranormal romances, and one historical.
There’s always another Chapter 1!
9. And finally, two just for fun: If you wrote a book about yourself, what
would the title be? Probably something along the lines of, “So this
happened….”
10. What are five adjectives you feel describe
you? Loving, nerdy, awkward,
rambunctious, and groovy
Blurb
Madison Monroe is an anthropology prodigy. She’s poised to graduate with a double
major. She’s published in scholarly
journals and archeology magazines. With
limited field experience, the crowning jewel for her graduate school
application is an upcoming dig in Normandy.
And she just got arrested for underage drinking.
Less than a month before she turns twenty-one.
Now, instead of taking part in her dream dig, she’s kicked
off the crew and barely escapes academic probation. Her only option for her application is a routine
archeological survey in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.
Once in Gettysburg, though, the “simple” dig isn’t exactly
what it seems. Madison can feel a
presence watching her and can hear voices of the dead calling from the
battlefield. And, when she discovers a
long buried secret at the Spangler Farm, she inadvertently sets off a chain of
events that will put everything—including her life—on the line.
Where to Buy
Excerpt
The hot water and steam
of the shower was relaxing, enough to kick the butterflies in her stomach into
submission. Her muscles ached. The tendons and ligaments in her upper shoulders
and back throbbed as if she’d been moving heavy furniture all week instead of
throwing her weight against the screen sifter.
It was just another brutal reminder that, although she was thin, she was
pathetically out of shape.
She stood under the
unrelenting water, craning her neck from side to side in an attempt to work the
muscles loose. Maybe Mike could crack
her back for her. She smirked. Now that was a pickup line she’d have to
remember: say, care to get on top and crack my back?
Once the conditioner
was rinsed out of her hair, she turned the faucet off and reached for a
towel. Her hair was getting long. It
seemed like she’d need to use two or three of the thin, white hotel towels to
sop up the excess water. No matter, she
could resort to using the room’s hair dryer and, in forty-five minutes or so,
the feeble little machine might get her hair dry. Damn it, of all the things to leave at
home. She hadn’t planned on needing to
look as attractive and desirable as humanly possible. If she had, she’d have
brought along a better selection of makeup.
She towel dried her
hair enough to keep water from trickling down her back, and then wrapped
another towel around her body. It was a
good thing she’d done a load of laundry the previous day. Not that she had
“date” quality outfits with her, but she was fully aware which pair of jeans
accentuated her curves the best. She
pulled on a red vintage style t-shirt emblemized with a grayed out Union Jack.
It was casual and cute, though she was reasonably sure her clothes were the
last thing on his mind.
The steam from the
small bathroom had filtered out into the sink area, fogging up the mirror and
giving everything a generally damp feeling.
She wiped her hand across the condensation covered mirror. In the
unobstructed reflection she could see a figure, a man, standing directly behind
her.
She bit back a shriek
and jerked around. There was no one
there; the room was empty.
“Shit.” The words
felt as if they bubbled out of her throat, pushed out by her rapid
heartbeat. She gripped the countertop with one hand to steady
herself. The reflection in the mirror was clear and crisp. It
wasn’t a shadow or the light playing on the steam from the shower. It was a
man. It was him, the man who’d been watching her for days. He’d
stood and watched her at the Spangler Farm. He’d breathed on the back of
her neck, whispered in her ear as she worked in the test pit.
Now he was in her room.
Madison swallowed
hard, peering into the main section of the hotel room. It was
empty. Nothing was out of place, no one was watching her from any corner
of the room; yet, she didn’t feel completely alone. He was still there.
Her hand faltered on
the countertop and she sank backward, half sitting, half leaning against the
sink. The air in the room felt soupy and stale. Gooseflesh rippled
down her still damp arms and across her back. What in Christ’s name did
he want from her?
She felt him next to
her, his breath on her shoulder. Please.
Could he hear her when
she spoke to him? It was worth a try. “I’m not sure I know how to
help you.”
But she knew someone who did.
Heather Hambel Curley is a 2004 graduate of Robert Morris
University, graduating magna cum laude with a degree in Communications. She’s been writing since the fourth grade,
but didn’t get serious with writing until she’s reached her thirtieth birthday
(metabolism went down, determination to write went up!). With Me
Now is her debut novel. Her
historical fiction novel, Anything You
Ask of Me will be released in August 2015.
Heather currently resides in Western Pennsylvania with her
husband and two songs. When she’s not
writing or working as a disability claims analyst at an insurance company, she
enjoys traveling and training to run 5ks.
She also enjoys white wine, One Direction, and getting tattoos.
Links
Twitter: @Heather_Curley
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25518250-luke?from_search=true&search_version=service
Luke looks down at me, his blue eyes flashing. "You're damn uppity for someone who needs something from me."
Someone who needs something from me. My mind flashes immediately to sex and I hate myself for it. "Uppity? I didn't ask you to come in here and cook. Or poke around my orchard."
He leans in close to me. Too close. I can smell him, soap and aftershave, clean and masculine. "I wasn't poking around," he says, his voice low. "And if I did, you wouldn't be complaining."
Heat rushes through me at the thought of Luke poking around anywhere, and I force the thought out of my head. "I don't need you. For the record."
The way he looks at me makes me blush even harder. "We both know that's not true, Red," he says.
"I don't," I say, unable to hide the irritation in my voice. "And this little charming flirting act of yours might work on girls your own age, but it doesn’t work on me."
Luke grins. "So you admit it's charming, then?"
"I said it was an act."
"You said charming," he says, pulling coffee from his bag. "Now, can you make coffee, or is your coffee just as crap as your food?"
I take the bag from his hand, groaning in frustration. "You don't have many friends, do you?"
"I could ask the same thing of you, sweetheart," he says. "Why don't you make the coffee and then get out of my kitchen?"
"It's my kitchen," I say as I fill the pot with water. "And you're working for me. Apparently. Which we haven't even discussed. Aren't you concerned it's slightly inappropriate, cooking your employer breakfast?"
Luke walks up behind me, his hand on the side of the sink. His breath is warm on the back of my neck, and I swear that as soon as it hits my skin, I stop breathing. My heart thumps loudly in my chest, and the water overflows from the coffee pot, running down the sides of the glass and over my hands, but I don't move.
Luke reaches around me with his other hand, shutting off the water. His arm grazes my shoulder and sends a jolt of electricity runs through my body. "This is nowhere near inappropriate, Red," he whispers, his voice barely audible against my ear. "Inappropriate would be if I cooked you breakfast in the morning, after you came on my tongue the night before."
I swallow hard, my heart beating so fast I swear it's going to beat right out of my chest. Then he walks back to the counter, nonchalant like he didn't just talk about me coming on his tongue, and busies himself with preparing breakfast. I stand at the sink for a moment, my hand gripping the edge tightly, and when I glance over at him, he looks at me and winks.
Damn it, I think. Hiring him is a very bad idea.
