Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Interview of Cher Green
Latest Book: Escape to Love
Buy Link: http://www.etreasurespublishing.com - novella will be available at the end of June. Sign up for my newsletter to receive updates on the release, or follow my blog where there will be an announcement.
Cher Green writes in many genres, spanning from horror to romance. Her work has appeared in various magazines, and her romance novella, “Escape to Love,” is scheduled to debut at the end of June. For more information on this author visit: http://www.chergreen.com
Q: What part of the book is the easiest for you to write? Why?
A: I find the beginning the easiest, because it’s usually already written in my head before I sit down.
Q: What part of the book is the hardest for you? Why?
A: I’d say the middle, because this is where you really get into the technique of writing, when and where to situate your scenes, plant your conflict, and foreshadow upcoming doom.
When writing, I begin at the beginning and work my way to the end, jotting notes for scenes and reminders for things that need to be added are changed in earlier text. So, the real work doesn’t happen until my second draft.
Q: Who is your favorite character in your book and why?
A: Esmeralda, a minor character, would be my favorite. I believe there’s a lot more to her than appears in the story, due to limited word count. She is definitely someone I’d like to explore further into. Perhaps, she’ll find her way into the main role of another story.
Q: Do all your heroes and all heroines look the same in your mind as you “head write”?
A: Each new character appears vividly in my head. I try not to over describe them in the text, but my characters are individuals with very distinct appearances. Of course, it’s the same when I read published books. I prefer to create my own image, and hope the reader of my work is able to do the same.
Q: What genre would you like to try writing in but haven’t yet done so? Why?
A: I’ve dipped into just about every genre except sci-fi. I want to give it a try eventually. I believe it would be fun creating a new world from the ground up and filling it with interesting/perhaps bizarre characters.
Q: Facebook, MySpace, Blogs, Chats, or Twitter. Which do you like best and why?
A: I love my blogs. I have one on writing and one on tarot. Why? They give me the freedom to share, without waiting on an acceptance from an editor/publisher. I also enjoy the interactions with the blog viewers.
Tell us where to find you: website(s), publisher’s page(s), blog(s), Facebook page(s), etc. List them all!
Constance Spenser is no ordinary woman, and neither are her problems. Unhappy in her life, she seeks knowledge of the spiritual side of life, but what she finds is another world, a world where she has no place. She must gain the council’s trust and discover a way home, but in her attempt she finds herself falling for the enemy. Can she survive long enough to discover her destiny?
Lawrence Wilder, a member of an evil council, wants to break free, but one doesn’t walk away from the council alive. When a witch falls from the sky, hope returns to his life, and to his surprise love. In his world, together they cannot survive. Can he save them both, or will one have to be sacrifice for the other to live?
Four white candles in each corner, a small dish of water, a pinch of salt, and a bag of sage completed Constance Spenser’s ritual stage. She pulled the lilac scrunchie from her thick black hair. Heaving a breath, she tried to push aside her melancholy.
Her recent breakup and move hadn’t improved her dismal outlook. Wading through each day, she tried to see the positive, to find a fresh beginning. She fingered the pentacle necklace, wondering if she’d ever see results.
Her Persian, Angelica, brushed against her bare leg before jumping into her lap. Constance smiled as she ran a hand over the cat’s soft fur. “I know baby. You love me no matter how big of a failure I turn out to be.” The cat stretched toward her, placing a paw kiss upon her chin, like a friend’s kind hug.
Careful not to disturb the lounging pet, she shifted away from the table and withdrew a box of matches from the table’s drawer. Striking one, her voice eased over the darkness with each lit each candle. “I give my body to the earth, my breath to the air, my tears to the water, my desire to the fire.” The heat from the match singed her thumb, and she dropped it into the water dish. “I call upon the spirit world for guidance. Reveal to me my path; set me on a journey.”
A soft breeze stirred the curtains and fed the candle flames. The tick-tock of the old grandfather clock magnified, building to a roar. Then, the room fell silent, voiding Constance’s moment of anticipation. Dropping her shoulders, she blew out the candles and shuffled toward the kitchen.
Angelica hissed, and Constance spun. The curtains whipped in the strong wind tearing through her house. Through the sheer drapery, moonlight pulsed, trespassing into her small living room. Hair on end, teeth bared, her cat arched. Constance’s heart echoed in her ears - it worked, her incantation had been a success.
Thunder rumbled, shaking the house, ravaging her senses. Soft rain fell, lulling her into a calm state. The smell of soil and wet grass filled the room, like a peaceful cemetery burial. Lightning darted through the darkened clouds, slithered through the darkness, and forked across the purple sky. A haze settled as the soft rain turned into a full-fledged downpour.
Tiny goose bumps popped up all over her bare skin. She crossed her arms, but it didn’t do much for the chill rambling through her body. The thin fabric of her nightie did nothing to stop the icy grip of the storm on her flesh. She started toward the bedroom to grab a robe, but a high pitched cry bounced off the walls, stopping in her tracks. “What did I do?”
Constance rushed through the living room, onto the porch. She glanced back at the doorway, then to the raging storm. A tear ran down her cheek. She cringed at the thought of the possible dangers she’d brought upon them. Her poor cat hissed from the safety of the doorway. “It’s okay,” she whispered, though who she sought to console was unclear. The cat looked less than impressed, recoiling from her outstretched hand. Lightning shattered the sky. Constance jumped and her cat bolted from the doorway. “Ooh, what have I done?”
The storm raged, venting its impressive force only to stop as suddenly as it began. The sky cleared, the room fell silent, leaving her to struggle with her racing heart. She eased back to the doorway, coaxed Angelica back into the opening. “See. Told ya. Everything’s fine. ” Angelica’s fur remained on end, the cat stared past her, hissing and growling furiously.
Excitement and dread flowed like blood through her veins. Constance turned to acknowledge the source of her cat’s interest. Apprehension tightened around her throat, shrouding the flares of joy at her success.
Anything else you’d like to add?
Thank you for the opportunity to share a little time with you and your followers. I hope you find my novella enjoyable and continue to follow my writings for years to come.
Posted by Marianne Stephens at 12:01 AM