I started writing many years ago, however I never got the
chance to sit down and write an entire book until last year. I was always under
the impression that other writers were like me. And some of them are. However,
some of them aren’t. It took me almost a year after that to realize that not
all writers have characters screaming at them inside their grey matter. Or,
possibly even taking a hatchet to the inside of their skull.
You see, if I don’t let these characters have free reign
(especially now that I have let them have a taste of freedom), I’m pretty sure
I’d go crazy. I know I’m one of the lucky ones. I can sit down in front of a
screen and the story flows. Next thing I know, I’ve written five thousand words
and my eyes hurt. Yet, my mind is still buzzing and the characters don’t want
to let go. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’ve held me hostage.
For instance, I’ll try to watch some TV. I’ll have to make
deals with the impatient person who’s tapping their foot on my inner eardrum
(it really hurts!) that I’ll let them have some time to themselves (i.e. me
writing about them) during the commercial breaks.
Earlier today, I was talking to someone who’s read my books
and described something about one of my characters. The person’s eyes popped
wide open and they were amazed that I knew so much about the character. Well,
of course I do. The characters overload me on a daily basis with details. I
mean… DETAILS! Like, sometimes it’s just…too much! T – M – I!! Seriously, Nico,
I really DON’T want to know what you did with that girl from the twenties in
that bar in San Francisco. UGH!
But, with the lighter side of a character’s particular fun,
comes the darker. I know secrets about these characters that they don’t want
others to know. Unfortunately for them I’m the author, and those secrets are
going to one day see the light of day. They’re not going to like it. *gleefully
rubs hands together as she puts the scenes together in her mind*
You see, I’m just their middle-man. I’m their antenna that
brings their signal into focus. They are the hijacker and I’m their vehicle that
brings their fantatstical stories to you… The reader. It’s a dangerous job
(especially when I know who’s killed who *looks over shoulder to see if anyone
is staring through my window*), but someone’s gotta do it. May as well be me.
Witches
The Anathergians Trilogy
Book Two
Michelle C. Reilly
Genre: Science Fiction/Paranormal Romance
Word Count: 82k
Cover Artist: Michelle C. Reilly
Book Description:
Auden, the immortal king of the Anathergians, is lost within a sea of emotions. Rocked to his very core from his battle against the Variants, he fears Travik—father to Auden’s Lifemate, Leah, and the Anathergian who turned humans into Variants—has committed the ultimate evil and killed Leah. Desperate, Auden struggles to discover the truth.
And what of Leah’s foster brother, Ceadan, who turned into a Variant to save his sister? Was he successful? Did he survive?
Auden and his fellow Anathergian warriors join with the council of witches to search for—and hopefully save—Leah and Ceadan.
Will they find them? Are they alive? And what is Travik’s evil plot for humankind?
Excerpt:
Using Auden’s Bugatti, they made their way to the
salon where Ceadan had been. Auden eyed
the place. Built sometime in the 1960s, the house was now a business
establishment because of zone changes.
Patches of white stucco were missing from the walls and the faded black
trim peeled away from the wood.
When all four of them entered, the thin teenage boy
at the desk stood and backed against a wall. His wide brown eyes, outlined in
dark liner, stared at each of them. His jaw worked as if he tried to speak, but
no words came out.
Gunner stepped forward and the boy squeaked and
plastered himself closer to the wall. The Anathergian pulled Ceadan’s receipt
from his pocket. “We’re trying to track down a friend of ours and, the last day
he was seen, he visited…” He scrutinized the room and rocked back on his heels.
“This lovely establishment. Can you give us an idea of who he saw?”
The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he nodded as he
tentatively read the receipt. “Uh…” his
voice wavered, “let me see who was here that day.”
He reached for the mouse on the desk and surveyed
the information displayed on his monitor. “It…uh…looks like Daisy took care of
him.”
Gunner used the receipt like a guitar pic and strung
it across the fingers of his other hand. “And, is Daisy here?”
The kid’s eyes widened, showing an extraordinary
amount of sclera. “Oh! Yes. I’ll take you…uh… All of you to her.”
They followed the boy down a hallway and into a room
on the left. A girl with her head shaved
on one side and the rest of her fluorescent orange hair sticking out in spikes
sat at a table drawing as she rocked out to whatever music played in her ear buds.
“Uh… Daisy?” The boy’s voice shook. When he got no response, he tried again.
“Daisy, you have some…uh…men here to see you.” This time he knocked on the wall
next to her.
The girl’s head lifted, her eyebrows drawn down.
When she saw Gunner behind the kid, she smiled and pulled out her earbuds. When
she stood and sashayed around the table, Auden scanned her black pants covered
with multiple buckles. He wondered how long it took her to get them on and off.
Daisy’s gaze slowly analyzed Gunner from the top of
his head to his white sneakers. The thick liner around her eyes emphasized
their blue color. “Hey. What can I do for you?” She had a slight southern
accent proving she wasn’t a Las Vegas native.
Gunner, never one to let a good thing pass him by,
put on the charm. “Hey, darlin’. I’m looking for a friend of mine. He came here
a few weeks back and then he decided to go and disappear on us. I’m hoping you
can give us a clue what you did to him while he was here.” He reached into his
front pocket and, when the girl’s gaze followed his hand, he slowed his
movements so she could get a better look. Auden shook his head.
He pulled out his phone and displayed the photo of
Ceadan they’d found in the complex’s database.
The girl studied it while blowing a huge, pink bubble from the gum she
chewed. “Yeah, I remember him. He’s the
reason I’m orange now.”
“Orange?” Gunner asked.
“Yeah, you know?” She pointed to her head. “Orange.
Except his is yellow, you know? Like the vests construction guys wear.”
Gunner glanced over his shoulder at Auden with a
raised eyebrow and then turned back to the girl. “So, it’s like bright yellow?”
She nodded and blew another bubble. When the gum
stuck to her lip, she swiped it with a finger and sucked on it with a sexy grin
at him. Nico snickered behind him.
“So, what else did you do to his hair?” Gunner asked
her.
She shrugged. “Mohawk.”
Gunner blinked a few times. “What kind of Mohawk?”
“Just your typical type. You know? Long in the
middle, shaved on the sides. And very bright.”
Gunner fiddled with his phone for a minute and then
showed the girl the display. “So, is this what he looked like after you
finished with him?”
She blanched when she saw the photo. Auden leaned over to see Ceadan now with a
high line of bright yellow hair running down the middle of his head and a
smooth scalp on either side.
“Wow.” She reached for the phone. “That’s a cool
app. What’s it called?”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Gunner said while shaking his head and
pulling the phone away. “It’s my special app. So, would you say this is him?”
She shook her head. “Pretty much. But, you’re
missing his ear studs. He had a few on each ear.”
Gunner let a breath out between his teeth and it
came out almost like a whistle. “Alrighty, then, I think that’s all we need.”
The girl swiveled toward her counter, picked up a
business card, and handed it to Gunner. “Let me know if you need anything else.
I’m always happy help out.” The sly smile she sent Gunner gave Auden a pretty
good idea of what kind of help she was willing to give the man.
Gunner nodded to the girl with a smile and a wink,
and they all circled around to leave the premises.
When they were outside, Nico said, “Dude, every
single time. We can’t take you anywhere.”
Gunner gave him a who me? look, with his arms spread
wide. “Who’s talking, Mr. I’ll-Fuck-Whatever-I-Can-Get-My-Dick-Into?”
Nico stopped and squinted his eyes. “Not whatever I
can get my dick into. I am choosey,” he paused. “Well, a little choosey. They
have to be breathing at least.”
Gunner let out a snort. “Whatever. Should I play you
a recording of growling cats?”
When Nico glared at him, Gunner quirked an eyebrow.
“Then get in the car and quit your whining.”
About the Author:
Michelle C. Reilly is a science fiction romance writer. She's a single mom of two wonderful boys. She spent ten years in the U.S. Navy as a Hospital Corpsman Preventive Medicine Technician, which meant she was actually attached to or stationed with the U.S. Marine Corps. She has a Masters in Science in Public Health, but she is generally an IT geek and a geek of many other things as well. She currently resides in Las Vegas, NV, with her two cats, Meowdy and Moose, and her dog, Katie aka "The Old Lady."
Make sure to visit her website www.michellecreilly.com for more information about her and her upcoming books.
Feel free to visit, ask her questions, and hang out with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/michellecorareilly
And if you're a tweet-a-holic (or even if you're not), follow her on Twitter at www.twitter.com/MichelleCReilly
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1 comment:
Thank you so much for your post! I really appreciate it! Michelle C. Reilly
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