Connie Chastain Interview

1. Why do you write romance?

Basically, because I love men and I write to honor them.  They are absolutely fascinating creatures.  Women and men are similar enough to understand each other's humanity, but we have differences, too.

Here's how I conceptualize it. We've all seen the astrological symbols for male and female (male, Mars, circle and arrow; female, Venus, circle and cross).

Sometimes you see the circles linked, but I think the depictions of them overlapping, perhaps 75% of the circle, illustrate it best. The area where the circles overlap illustrates how men and women are alike (i.e., the human characteristics we share) and those parts of the circle outside the overlap are how we are different (the sex/gender characteristics we don't share).

I don't think we can even understand each other in those areas. But there's plenty enough commonality within the overlap for us to get along; and the differences, frankly, are what attract us to each other.

2. Are you aware of any themes that run through your stories? If so, what are they?

Several. I didn't consciously plan it this way, but a theme, or at least an element, that runs through my stories is the difficulty people sometimes have accepting forgiveness/redemption after they have wronged someone. This element plays a crucial role in Southern Man, which I self-published, and Storm Surge, which is currently under consideration by a small publisher in a west coast state.  It also occurs in a couple of my mainstream non-romance WIPs.

Another recurring theme or element is criticism of feminism, or at least, radical feminism and third-wave feminism.  I like voting and being paid what my work is worth, but I am irrevocably opposed to the man-hating aspects of feminism, and the more recent hook-up culture feminism that I believe is so harmful to women. (This is primarily the reason for the "controversial" and "politically incorrect" references in my author logline.)

A third recurring theme or element is the American South, its people (especially its men!), history and culture.  Although I'm a lifelong Southerner, except for a five-year sojourn in the Midwest, I'm as fascinated with my region, its beauties, mysteries and contradictions, as any outsider.

Another element is the role religion, specifically Christianity, plays in my characters' lives. I don't write Christian romances--I've read a few and found them, um, well, a bit too preachy. (I realize they may not all be like that.) Current pop culture eschews religion, sometimes ridicules it, and worst of all, frequently portrays religious people as bizarre, even monstrous. I personally don't know any religious people like that, and I frankly resent the portrayal that slanders legions of good, decent people. Regardless of the irreverence in pop culture, religion plays an important role in the lives of real people, though they may not realize it. I try to show how faith manifests in my characters' lives without in-your-face scripture-quoting and such, so my stories are written with a Christian worldview.

Finally, one of the most fascinating elements, something I love to explore, is reality versus appearance.  How a character's life/work/family may look to those outside it contrasted with how the character himself experiences it.  As an example, in Southern Man, the protagonist, Troy Stevenson, for all his sexiness and good looks, is perceived by co-workers to be a rather staid, upright religionist married to a straight-laced little Southern Baptist wife, when in fact they have an extremely powerful sexual bond, and a very satisfying, um, innovative sex life.

3. Do you have a specific writing style?

Yeah.  I tell, don't show, and I head-hop.

Just joking!

My stories are written mostly from the POV of a disembodied, impersonal narrator--but not third person omniscient.  I conceptualize the narrator as a video-camera that shows or tells, whichever does the job best. The camera  floats around and focuses on what it thinks is important for the reader to see/know.  It can zoom out to see a whole room, a whole planet, a whole universe, or zero in on the multicolored flecks in the irises of the hero's soulful eyes....

The narrator will share POV with one character per scene, but only one; that's how I avoid head-hopping.  Critiquers sometimes detect POV "slippage" between the narrator and a character, and if it's too blatant, I'll address it, but I usually let it go. (I've generally found readers to be oblivious to POV issues.)

I try to conform to the simplified writing style advocated by Rudolph Flesch in How to Write, Speak and Think More Effectively.  Short paragraphs, short, mostly simple sentences (in subject, verb, object order) varied with occasional compound and complex sentences.  There's more to it than that, and there are other schools of simplified writing, but this discipline has done more to make my writing viable than anything else I've encountered.

Flesch's book is out of print, but used copies are available, and I recommend it to any writer.  Fiction writers only need to read the first few chapters.

3.  What inspired you to write your first book?

Southern Man emerged as a prequel to Sweet, Southern Boys, a non-romance about three teenage boys in Georgia, growing up best friends, whose lives are ruined when they're accused of rape.  That book was a prequel to Little Sister, which was--oh, heck, never mind.  I started writing Little Sister first, but Southern Man was the first one finished and published, so it's really the first.

It was inspired by a comment made by Reade Seligmann, one of the Duke Lacrosse defendants.  I no longer have the quote, and can't find it online, but he said something like, when he saw pictures of himself on national TV and heard news reports about what he was accused of, "I can't tell you what that did to me inside."

I wanted to tell what it does inside to a good, decent man to be falsely accused of that type of crime.  In Southern Man, the accusation was toned down to sexual harassment because it is set in the early 1980s, when a lot of sexual harassment law and policy was being formulated in the United  States. But the story focuses on the experience of the protagonist, Troy Stevenson--what it did to him inside--and the effects it had on his family.



4.  How much of the book is realistic?

I tried to make all of it realistic; the office politics where Troy works, the viciousness of small-town gossip; the pull and tug of progressivism versus traditionalism.  People might think the adoration of Troy's wife for him is a bit unrealistic--he acknowledges that her love for him borders on idolatry--but even she has her limits, and her near worship of him does cause emotional problems for her.

The only other element I'm concerned about is the realism of the children in the story. I don't have kids. I've never been around them much, and the portrayal of Troy's kids really concerned me; but thus far, I've received absolutely no feedback that the kids aren't realistic.

As for the realism of false sexual harassment accusations, as one of my video trailers alludes to, nearly half of the sexual harrassment complaints brought before the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission are dismissed after investigation for "no reasonable cause found."

5. Are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?

No. Except for the Seligmann quote referred to, the story is based only on recent and current cultural trends in the USA.  None of my stories are based on my own experiences, except incidentally.  For example, in Storm Surge, I draw on my experience in property and casualty insurance claims and living through coastal hurricanes, but I made up the specific events of the story.

6.  What are your current projects?

I've just started a paranormal romance with the working title Wrong Turn. It's about a man who doesn't believe in crypto-primates (Bigfoot/Sasquatch) until the woman he's falling in love with is imperiled by them.

The aforementioned Sweet Southern Boys is about three-quarters complete, Little Sister is about a third complete.  The Candidate, a follow-up to Southern Man, is in the planning stages.  None of these are romances but they include romantic elements.

7.  What books have most influenced your life most?

As far as my writing life goes, the earliest books to inspire me were the Nero Wolfe mysteries by the inimitable Rex Stout.  To this day, Archie Goodwin is the only first-person narrator I can abide.  I read The Doorbell Rang when I was about thirteen and at some point after finishing several more of the series, I was thinking in narrative and dialog.

Others include Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind, Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, and the Louisiana novels of Frances Parkinson Keyes,

Robin Lee Graham's Dove. Favorite classics include Lewis Carroll's Alice In Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass; Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle In Time.

I could go on, but those are representative.

8. Please tell us about your most recent release and where we can purchase it.

Southern Man is about a devoted family man who is targeted with a false sexual harassment complaint by an amoral young woman and her uber-feminist mentor.

Here's a blurb:

=========

In 1983, in moss-hung Verona, Georgia, the tender and tenacious love between a hardworking man and his adoring wife is tested by sudden adversity.

Corporate executive Troy Stevenson must confront his nascent alcohol abuse or he risks losing the wife, daughter and son he deeply loves. When his latent destructiveness impacts his family, he moves to their weekend cottage to come to grips with his personal weaknesses.

But busybodies at his company assume he left home because his marriage is in trouble. Encouraged by the assumption, co-worker Brooke Emerson, a 1980s material girl romantically obsessed with Troy, attempts to seduce him, setting in motion a chain of events with harrowing consequences for him and his family.

=========

I created a publishing company, Brasstown Books, to bring it to print.  (I enjoyed publishing the book so much, I'd eventually like to do go into that as a sideline and publish other writers' books and stories, both in print and e-book format.)

Here are links to more information about Southern Man on my website:

Summary:

http://conniechastain.com/sm_summary.html

Excerpt:

http://conniechastain.com/sm_excerpt.html

Videos (yeah, plural; four of 'em, ha!)

http://conniechastain.com/sm_videos.html

Reviews:

http://conniechastain.com/reviews.html

Southern Man is available on Amazon.com in print and Kindle versions, and on Smashwords.

Print:

http://www.amazon.com/Southern-Man-Connie-Chastain/dp/061529801X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1245882533&sr=1-1

Kindle:

http://www.amazon.com/Southern-Man-ebook/dp/B002Z7G1F4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=digital-text&qid=1259715283&sr=1-2

Smashwords:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/13733

9. Please give us your urls and your publisher’s url.

My website:

http://conniechastain.com

My blog (not entirely devoted to writing):

http://conniechastain.blogspot.com

My publishing site:

http://brasstownbooks.com

10.  Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?

Yes. I learned to tell, not show, and to head-hop!  LOL!

Again, I'm kidding.

What I learned is to not let the "rules" put your creativity in a straight jacket.  There were so many false starts with Southern Man, as I sought to conform to the rules ("Open with a hook," "Get straight to the action," "No infodumps!" "Sprinkle the backstory," "Show, don't tell," "No prologues,") that I sometimes despaired of completing the book. At the very least, I feared it would rob the story of my voice, and in that case, I might as well not finish it.

I learned so much about how to craft a story, and it is valuable knowledge, but what I would share with other writers is, listen to yourself. When all is said and done, agent newsletters, editor blogs, crit groups do not write your story. You do.  And only you, so guard your voice.

It was great having you Connie on NN.

Tabitha

The Wacky Misadventures of Four Romance Writers Run Amuck

Chapter 2

WARNING: This post breaks most of the writing rules, lol.

Penny, Cindy, Brenda, and Tabby, gazed past the brick wall into the thick forest beyond. Fir and cedar trees towered over them, lining both sides of a gravel path.  Branches interlocked to form a canopy overhead, allowing only intermittent patches of blue sky to peek through the tightly woven cover. What little light penetrated the needles struggled to reach the forest floor.

The four women glanced to their right, then left. Odd trails, possibly made by animals or other writers who came before them, meandered past the wide tree trunks in all directions, only to be swallowed up by the gloom. A feeling of danger permeated the heavy air.

Penny shouldered her large purple backpack and walked to the beginning of the rocky passageway. She stopped. “Did any of you think to bring a flashlight?”

“No,” Cindy said as she took a step back.

“Figures.” Penny turned to the group. “We need some light.”

Brenda laid a soothing hand on Cindy’s arm. “Hey, if we’d have known we were going to be roaming through the lost freaking woods, we’d have brought a damn flashlight.”

Tabby brushed past Brenda and Cindy. One of her white feathered angel wings skimmed Cindy’s cheek, and her halo made from green Christmas garland, bounced with her quick stride. She stood beside Penny and pointed to a wooden sign. “It says, follow path to unblock writer’s block.”

The group stared at the sign.

“Do we have to go in there? It’s so dark,” Cindy stated.

Penny jerked her thumb toward Cindy’s rhinestone studded belt. “What’s that?”

Cindy unhooked a plastic sword from her belt. “It’s my light saber.”  She pushed a button and the sword let off a blue glow.

As Penny reached for the light saber, she said, “That’ll have to do.”

“It’s mine.” Cindy hid it behind her back.

“Fine. You go first then.” Penny moved to the side, giving Cindy a better view of the sinister woods.

Cindy tossed the sword to Penny.

As they made their way, Cindy whispered to Tabby, “What is this place?”

“I think this is Writer’s Block Woods. I’ve heard of it, but I thought it was only a legend.”

“I’ve heard tons of writers have lost their sanity in here,” Brenda said. “I wonder if their minds are still floating around, waiting for unsuspecting victims.”

Cindy covered her mouth, stifling a scream. The silver glittery balls held up by pink pipe cleaners, swayed above her head.

Brenda held her Dracula cape out to the side and opened her mouth to show off her set of dollar store plastic fangs. They fell out. She quickly picked them up and put them back in. “Maybe the lost minds will try to suck out your brain.”

Cindy’s body, clad in a silver jumper, trembled. “Do you think they could?”

Tabby shoved Brenda. White feathers from her angel wings fluttered to the ground. “Stop scaring her.”

“Will you idiots hurry up,” Penny called. “Unless you want to be left behind.”

The three caught up and they continued on with the journey.

After walking a short distance, the foursome stopped.

Tabby glanced around. She noticed a dark shape slumped against a mossy tree trunk beside the gravel lane. “What’s that?”

They stepped closer.

Cindy screamed and covered her eyes.

The shape was a mummified woman wearing a moldy yellow sweater and dirt encrusted tan slacks. Her skin looked like dried leather, shrunken to her bones. Moss grew around the black eye sockets.  Boney hands lay in her lap with her fingers curled into balls. Sticking out from between her fingers were long strands of blond hair—the same color as the hair on her head. Bald patches showed against the dried scalp.

Brenda glanced at Tabby. “Yikes.”

Tabby gingerly touched the bald spot on the back of her own head, and then ran her fingers through the brunette strands, pulling out a clump. Her wide eyes filled with panic. “Oh shit.”

“What . . . what do you think happened to her?” Cindy asked as she peeked through her fingers.

Penny knelt beside the corpse and rummaged through her backpack. “Pretty obvious. She got lost in Writer’s Block Woods and couldn’t find her way out.” She pulled out a silver hat with red and green flashing lights on the rim and placed it over her dark hair.

Brenda laughed. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s my thinking cap.”

Tabby and Brenda laughed so hard tears streamed down their cheeks.

Penny narrowed her eyes. “Are two fools done?”

They wiped the mascara from under their eyes and nodded.

“We should move on.” Penny hoisted up her pack. “I have a bad—“

A menacing growl filled the eerie woods.

Cindy squeaked and grabbed Tabby’s arm, almost knocking them both to the ground. Cindy peered over Tabby’s shoulders. “What was that?”

The growl sounded again. The hair on all four women stood on end as if a static charge had surged through them.

Penny stepped forward. “I’ve no clue, but we should check it out. But stay quiet.”

Tabby grasped Penny’s arm and jerked her to a stop. “Are you insane?”

Cindy sunk to her knees, mumbling something about kittens and butterflies.

“You want to get over your writer’s block, don’t you?” Penny asked.

“Yeah, but I can’t write if I’m dead!”

Brenda drew her cape around her. “Yeah, maybe we should head back.”

Penny walked ahead. “Just know if you turn back now, you’ll never get over your writer’s block.”

Looking at each other, Tabby and Brenda knew Penny spoke the truth. They reached down and helped Cindy to her feet.

Cindy stumbled away from them.  “Please tell me we’re going back. I don’t want to know what made that sound.”

“Come on,” Tabby murmured. “We have to keep going.”

The four women continued down the trail. They came to a deep bend, stopped for a moment to gather their courage, and then slowly trudged onward. When they rounded the corner, they halted once more.

Stretched across the path was a large deadfall, and sitting on top was the largest bear any of them had ever seen. Blue ribbons of electricity wormed through the bear’s silky brown fur like snakes. The bear turned its enormous head toward the women, electricity snapped and crackled with its movements.

The scent of ozone clung heavy in the air. The taste tingled on the women’s tongues.

Penny cleared her throat. “We’re looking for the way out of this forest. Can you help us?”

The bear lifted a massive paw and inspected its razor sharp claws. “It’s back the way ya came.”

“Begging your pardon, but no it isn’t. We just want to get to the other side.”

The bear growled a deep sound that rumbled the ground beneath their feet. Its red eyes narrowed to deadly slits. “This is my last warning, turn back.”

The women huddled together.

“Now what?” Brenda whispered.

Penny thought for a second. “Maybe your characters can help.”

Tabby smiled and nodded. “Craigen, we need your help.” A dark, sexy angel materialized beside her. He stretched large white wings above his head, flapped them twice, then folded them over his back. His white robes shimmered in the dim light.

“Mel, we could use your strength,” Brenda said. Beside her, a tall vampire appeared. His shaggy black hair reached his broad shoulders. His cunning silver eyes turned serious as he gazed at the bear.

For the first time since they passed the brick wall, Cindy laughed. “Andros, help us please. Oh, and bring the biggest gun you have.” The sexiest alien alive took shape behind her. His orange tinted skin enhanced his dark hair and rich mysterious eyes. In his hands he held a futuristic gun the length of his muscular arms. The barrel was clear, showing the inner workings. The words, Wunderwaffa, DG2 were stamped on the side.

The bear roared with laughter as its red gaze took in Craigen and Mel. “Oh, this is just perfect. You two answer to the God of light, while I answer to the God of darkness. You both have no power here. This forest is made up of my master’s emotions: fear, doubt, and despair.” The bear inhaled. “Ahhh, the air is ripe with it.”

Craigen’s face blanched. He turned to Mel. “He’s right. Our powers won’t work in this evil place.”

Mel’s brows lower. “Shit.” He glanced at the women. “Sorry, ladies, but there’s nothing we can do. This is your battle to either win or lose.”

“Well, then, it’s up to my Andros.” Cindy hugged him around his waist then stepped back. “Blast that bear to smithereens.”

Andros pulled an energy cell from his pocket and screwed it into the top of his gun like a light bulb, then flicked a switch. Blue electricity course through the barrel. He raised the gun and pointed it at the bear. “Say goodnight, Johnboy.”

The bear stood on its hind legs and spread its paws wide. “Go ahead. Shoot me. I’ll absorb the energy and become even stronger.”

Just before Andros pulled the trigger, a dark haired, sexy human man materialized beside Penny. “Stop,” he shouted.

Andros lowered the gun. “Why?”

Raef addressed the group. “Think for a second. The bear seems to be made of electricity so it won’t hurt it.”

Brenda smacked her forehead. “That’s right. Like an electric type pokemon, electricity won’t work.”

Raef frowned. “Ah, yeah, something like that.”

“A water type pokemon would.” Brenda looked around. “But we don’t have one—I mean any water.”

Raef gave Penny a sideways glance and smiled.

Penny smiled back and reached into her pack and pulled out a super soaker.

The smug look on the bear’s face faltered. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” She aimed her water gun and pulled the trigger, shooting out a powerful stream of water.

The liquid hit the bear between the eyes. Its body jerked and did the funky chicken as water and electricity mixed. The men grabbed the women and pulled them to the ground as the bear exploded in a shower of sparks.

When it was over they all stood.

Penny placed her gun back in her pack and zipped it up. “Thanks Raef.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “Call if you need me.” He disappeared.

Andros looked at Cindy and touched one of her glittering balls. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Cindy smoothed her hands over her silver jumper. “It’s my space suit. All people in space wear this.”

“If you ever dress me in something like that, you’ll have writer’s block for eternity.” Andros disappeared.

Mel kissed Brenda’s cheek. “Until we meet again.” He vanished.

Tabby hugged Craigen before he too vanished.

Brenda walked over to Penny. “Hey, Troll. How come you packed a water gun, but not a flashlight?”

Penny laughed. “I’m not sure.” She adjusted her thinking cap. “We should get a move on,”

The women climbed over the large deadfall and continued with their journey.

To be continued . . .

Come back for part three written by Cindy Pahl on Tues. the 21st.

By Brenda Dyer

The Wacky Misadventures of Four Romance Writers Run Amuck

WARNING: This post breaks most of the writing rules. Every rule broken was done on purpose.

Chapter One

Tabby walked into her office determined to get some writing done today. Nothing was going to stop her. Opening the door, her mouth dropped. Sure nothing was going to stop her but that giant brick wall looming before her. Releasing a sigh as tension radiated up her spine.  The computers were on the other side. This was just great. Backing up into the wall she slid to the floor and entangled her fingers in he hair.

“Hey…what the hell is that?” Brenda asked wide-eyed.

Looking up, Tabby, noticed her partners in crime had arrived.

Sarcasm spewed from Tabby’s mouth. “Ahh…looks like a brick wall.”

“What are we going to do?” Brenda questioned as she looked to Tabby.

“I don’t know. My first reaction was to pull out my hair!”

“I don’t think that is going to do anything.”

“Well, too late.” She turned to show the ladies a huge bald spot on the side of her head. The light bounced off her shiny scalp.

Laughter echoed off the walls of the large office.

“Hey fang girl, shut it. This isn’t funny!” Tabby looked down at the clump of hair on the floor.  Tears pooled in her eyes. No, damn it. She was not going to cry!

“Well at least I don’t come to work in angel wings and a halo.” Brenda put her arms out and flapped them like a bird. Her black cape fluttered with her movements.

Tabby pointed a finger at Cindy. “She’s the one wearing the silver jump suit and glittery bouncy balls on her head. She looks like a bad SyFy movie threw up on her.” Three sets of eyes glared at Cindy.

“What? It inspires me. I have to engross myself in the world I write.”

A laugh came from the back of the room. “I’m the only normal one here.” Penny smiled.

All three ladies squinted at Penny. “Shut up!”

“Guess the truth hurts.” Penny shrugged. “How are we going to get over that wall?” She glanced at Tabby.

“Hey, why do I always have to fix everything?” Tabby pushed to her feet and blew out a breath.  “Never mind I will do it.”

Tabby smiled. “Watch and learn. As paranormal and SyFy writers we have other worldly characters with amazing powers. You only have humans in contemporary.” Smug satisfaction tugged at her features. “Craigen can get us through that wall.” A sexy angel appeared. Tabby stared as her breath stuck in her throat. He was gorgeous. Tall dark and handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. “I need you to teleport us through that wall. I’ll go first.”

Craigen nodded his head and wrapped his arms around Tabby. Mmm…he smelled good. She closed her eyes and trusted her strong angel would do as she asked. He could do this she just knew it. Craigen lifted her into the air and they started to levitate towards the wall. Tabby hit the wall with a loud thud and bounced off landing on the floor. She lay sprawled out on the carpet. Her head ached and she looked up to find Craigen gazing down at her.

“Sorry, Tabs, that’s one strong wall. I have never had that happen before.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just go.” It was bad enough everyone was laughing at her.

“My turn! My turn!” Brenda chanted as she jumped up and down. “My vampire can do it. Mel.” A tall sexy dark haired vampire appeared. “I need you to break down that wall.”

Mel smiled. “No problem.” He cracked his knuckles as he stepped up to the wall and proceeded to punch the bricks.

Tabby felt her blood boil. Why did vampires have to be so sexy? It was so easy to fall head over heels in love. She was jerked from her thoughts by Cindy’s cry.

“Oh my God!” Cindy ran to Brenda. A brick had hit her right between the eyes.

“Is she okay?” Penny asked.

Brenda grumbled and sat up. Her hand flew to the large lump forming on her forehead. “What happened?”

Tabby rolled her eyes and glanced up at the ceiling. “Your big bad vampire didn’t break the wall. He only managed to knock you on your ass with a flying brick.” All eyes turned to Mel. He just shrugged his shoulders and disappeared. Tabby reached a hand down to helped Brenda up and tossed her the vampire fangs that had fallen from her mouth.

“Okay, I got this.” Cindy replied.  “My alien and his high tech equipment can take down that wall. Andros.”  A very sexy orange tinted alien appeared. “I need you to demolish that wall.”

Tabby wondered how an orange alien could be so sexy but damn he was hot as hell. She snapped her mouth shut and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Nope they were all starry eyed too. Lost in their own personal fantasies. Penny was the only on that didn’t seem to drool at the sexy Andros.

“No problem.” He withdrew a sliver gun from a holster on his hip and pointed it at the wall. It made a hissing sound as it warmed up. He rolled his shoulders as a cocky grin graced his chiseled features.

“I don’t think this is a good…” Tabby and the others were struck with bolts of electricity that bounced off the wall before she could finish her sentence. She shook the fog from her head and glanced around. “Damn it, Cindy!”

Andros put his metallic gun away. “What the hell is that wall made of?”

“Sorry.” Then Cindy burst into laughter. “Its made of all the stresses that we let get in the way of our writing.”

He raised a brow as his eyes bore into the four women. “You ladies have some serious issues. I’m out of here.”

Tabby then realized their hair was standing on end and smoke was wafting off their heads. Penny’s body spasmed as the electricity dissipated. “Well that’s what you guys get for laughing at my bald spot! Now we all are having a bad hair day.” Tabby burst out laughing as she watched the ladies all get to their feet.

Penny shook her head. “That’s it. Time to call in the human. Evidently none of your guys can get the job done. And I am not letting any more of this insanity continue. I may write with you guys but I’m not dying with you!” She stood and dusted off her clothes. “Raef.” A very handsome dark haired man appeared.  All the women’s mouth’s dropped. A smug smile tugged at the corners of Penny’s mouth. “He’s not too bad for a human, huh?” Everyone just shook their heads. Raef cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry, I need to know the best way to get through that wall.” Penny replied.

“Why do you have to go through it? Can’t you just go around it?” He raised a single dark brow and crossed his arms over his chest.

All the ladies looked at each other. “Hmmm…why didn’t we think of that?” Cindy laughed.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. See, humans use logic, not powers. Lets go!” Penny looked to the right of the looming brick wall to find a long winding road that disappeared into a dark forest.

“You want us to go out there?” Tabby pointed and shook her head. “No way! There might be lions and tigers and bears out there.”

Penny ran her hands trough her crispy hair. “We have an angel, vampire, alien and if need be a human with amazing reasoning skills. We will be fine. Plus it will be a great adventure. We can’t just sit here and hope that wall disappears. We have to be stronger than the wall.”

The ladies all looked at each other.  “I don’t think we have a whole lot of options here. Looks like we go through the forest.” Tabby reached out shaky hands to Brenda and Cindy.

To be continued…

Come back Friday the 17th for part two of our crazy journey written by Brenda Dyer.

Happy Reading and Writing,

Tabitha Blake

Wicked Word Wednesday - Episode 4 - Voice

Wicked Wednesday, fellow followers of TNN.

Today's game consists of trying to say a lot with as few words as possible. Dreamer? Inspiration? In tribute to yesterday's fun exchange, I think I will call it…

Voice

On you go, sharing your latest scheme. I love your schemes. The way your mind works is captivating. To me, anyway.

You're a dreamer. Not the typical, lost in a fantasy world dreamer, you have focus. You aim it at real goals. You plan, and scheme, and detail your world so well.

I can see it. Vividly.

Your voice snagged my attention. It draws pictures that are infinitely irresistible, even inspiring.

I can see your world, the beings that exist there, the way you fit it all together.

I just know you will accomplish volumes.

Make The Voices Stop

Lately I haven’t had much time to write and my characters aren’t very happy about it. I continually hear them screaming at me, that is when I can hear them over the kids. LOL! I have only written one chapter in a week’s time and it is gnawing at me. I…

(Craigen) “You need to toughen up woman and get on the ball. You think you have a tough life? Have you looked at mine lately?” He leaned in the doorway, brows raised and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Crap! Craigen, you scared me to death! What do you want? I'm trying to write a blog here.” A sigh escaped my parted lips as I leaned back in my chair.” This was all I needed, more distractions.

(Craigen) “Oh, you have time to blog but no time to write the rest of my story. There is a demon out there that needs to be dealt with. He is murdering women remember?”

“Yes I know that, I wrote the story. But right now I need to get this blog finished. So give me a break and…”

He crossed the room, snatched my laptop, then stared me down with his intense green eyes.

“Give that back.” I reached for the computer but he held it up and out of my reach. A cocky smile curved the edges of his lips.

(Craigen) “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. What is wrong with your head? To write such an evil and vile being? It is rather disturbing!”

“If it wasn’t for Nyx you wouldn’t have met Lyric, and if I remember correctly, you really seem to have taken a shine to her.” I put my hand out. “Give me the damned laptop! I am too busy for this nonsense.”

He tossed the laptop on the desk and turned his back.

(Craigen) “I am merely protecting her. Nothing more. This is about you helping me kill Nyx!”

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” A giggle sprang from my mouth.

(Craigen) “Don’t play games with me woman. Just get yourself together and write the damned story already. My hand itches to smite that vile demon.” His fist slammed into the wall.

“Hey, you need to stop acting like a spoiled child. I have enough kids in this house.” I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

(Nyx) “Did someone call me?”

“Oh, great!” Just what I needed Craigen and Nyx in the same room. The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. “I don’t need your vile thoughts distracting me right now! I'm busy.”

An evil smile crossed his lips and those eyes. Damn it! Those eyes.

(Craigen) “So help me Nyx, if you so much as touch her I will kill you right here!”

(Nyx) “I was talking to Tabitha. I know my sweet, I have that affect on women. They all want me and I think you do too.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his legs at his ankles.

“I…uh…well…”

(Nyx) That’s what I thought. Say it beautiful. Mind, body and soul.”

His eyes never left mine and the urge to say it pulled at me. My body heated and I wanted to reach out and draw him close. “Mind…”

(Craigen) “Stop this now! Nyx I am so going to kill you and do it slowly. There will be no mercy, you will pay for your crimes. Tabitha snap out of it! I won’t let him have you too. Without you all hope is lost.”

I shook my head to clear the fog. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Thanks Craig.”

(Craigen) “I don’t remember saying you could give me a nick name. So just cut that crap out.”

“You are so touchy. Chill out.” I lowered my head into my hands as a twinge of a headache pulsed at my temples.

(Nyx) “Its okay, your time is coming beautiful.” He pointed at Craigen. “He can’t watch you all the time. I have the perfect place for you.” His palm rested on his chest. “I was thinking right over my heart.”

“You vile bastard, leave!” My anger raged out of control and I reached for the paperweight on my desk. He ducked and it crashed into the wall, shards of glass fell to the floor.

(Nyx) “For now, but I will win in the end. I always do”

“I am writing this story and you will definitely not be wining this one. I have a evil plan of my own for you.”

(Nyx) “Oh, I like a strong and confident woman. It is so much more fun breaking them.” An evil smile curved his features and his eyes turned crimson.

My breath caught in my throat. “Damn it Craigen! No throwing knifes. That flew right past my head.”

(Craigen) “Sorry, but he was getting too close. I had to do something. I don’t want to worry about you having a mental bond with him too. Anyway, I got rid of the demon scum.”

“Yeah, well thanks. Now can I get back to my blog?”

(Lyric) “Did she start writing again?”

I slumped over, crossed my arms on my desk and lowered my head. “Great.”

(Craigen) “No she is writing a blog. Whatever the hell that is. I guess it is more important than catching a killer.”

(Lyric) “There is nothing more important than catching a killer.” Her eyes bore into me. “What is wrong with you Tabitha?”

“Maybe if you guys would go away for the next twenty minutes, I could finish this and write the next chapter. But at this rate I am not going to get anything done. You know your love scene is coming up in about two more chapters.” A grin tugged at my features. I knew that would at least get rid of Craigen.

(Lyric) “Really?” Her eyes glazed over. “I…uh…”

(Craigen) “No way!”

“Why you guys are obviously falling in love?”

(Craigen) “That’s fine Tabitha. I'm out of here. You better hope he doesn’t come back because I am pissed and I may not come to you rescue!”

“I think I can handle Nyx I did create him.”

(Craigen) “That is one of the things that makes me wonder about your mental state.”

“Okay, I have had enough! Craigen I will call you when you are needed.”

(Craigen) “Women! You need to get your head straight and get this story finished before I lose my patients with you!”

“Well, at least he is gone.” Two down one to go.

(Lyric) “Do we really get a love scene?”

“Yes, hun and it is going to be amazing.”

(Lyric)” I don’t think he thinks so.”

“He will, you drive him crazy. He just refuses to see it, but I will make sure he does. You deserve a good man, and Craigen is one of the best. He will give in. I promise.”

(Lyric) I…will..uh…leave you to do that blog thingy you are doing.”

“Hey, Lyric, hun, be careful. You almost ran into the door.”

(Lyric) “Yeah, sorry.” Giggle.

“Okay where was I. Yeah, I haven’t gotten much writing done. Wait what was that noise? “Nyx, what do you want?”

(Nyx) “You.”

“Oh, really, you smell so good. Don’t look at me with those sexy blue eyes. I swear if you don’t leave I will kill you in the next chapter!”

(Nyx) “Fine. But your time is coming.”

“Okay, to hell with the blog, guess I have to go and write the next chapter before they all drive me insane. See the crap I have to deal with? I’m not even alone in my own head. Sorry about the blog guys.”

(Craigen) “See, knew we could get her back in the game. She really needs to stop slacking.”

(Lyric) “I think we need to give her break. She has been so busy lately. You want her to write the story well don’t you?”

(Nyx) “I don’t really care as long as I win in the end.”

(Craigen) “Keep dreaming, Nyx. You lost the first time we battled and it won’t be any different this time.”

(Nyx) “We’ll see.”

“I would say you guys need to learn to get along but that will never happen. So I need you to all shut up!”

(Craigen) “Fine we don’t want to drive the writer of Soul Extraction crazy. She already has a few screws loose to even invent this story. We’re out of here.”

Happy Reading and Writing,

Tabitha Blake

Pictures are left Craigen, middle Nyx and right Lyric.