Please
share a little about yourself, your genres, any other pen names you use.
I live in the comfortable Midwestern town of
Springfield, Missouri, hometown of Brad Pitt and Bass Pro. If you're ever here, you'll see a lot of one
and none of the other. Writing became a
creative outlet for me during my college years, but it wasn't until just a few
years ago that I sought validation through publication. Vinspire Publishing picked up my first book Shadowflesh in 2013, a young adult
paranormal novel, and released its sequel Forget
Me Not earlier this year. In
addition to writing, I work as a firefighter.
Seeing raw emotions fueled by both hope and hopelessness gives me desire
to write and a will to live. As far as
pen names, I don't use one. What you see
is what you get.
Are
you a parent?
I am the father of two amazing boys who have grown
into fine young men way too soon.
If
yes do you find it hard to juggle writing and parenting?
During their formative years, I tried to be there
for my sons. Their waking hours were
spent with dad close by. But yes, I
really had to learn to juggle the writing with parenting. As luck would have it—either good luck or bad
luck, you decide—chronic insomnia paid me a visit and decided to stay. Where some novelists would see a problem, I
saw an opportunity. I began writing in
the midnight hour every night and wouldn't stop until the clock struck three. Creativity flowed freely, and my first novel
was born.
Is
there a theme or message in your work that you would like readers to connect
to?
Forget
Me Not tells the story of Aileen and the curse which has
been cast upon her, making her lose all memory of her love for Addison. At times she feels as if she's lost her mind,
or as if everyone else has lost theirs. Forget Me Not dwells on the fear of going
insane and losing touch with reality. And
through the fear, I try to raise a question:
If you do lose the memory of the one you love, would you fall in love
with them all over again, or would you just pass them by?
What
would your readers be surprised to learn about you?
Most readers are surprised to find out I'm a
firefighter. When I tell them, they look
at me with a big question mark on their faces.
What in the world is a rough-neck in a bunker coat doing writing young
adult paranormal romance? I suppose the
answer is surprisingly simple. No one is
one-dimensional; we all have layers.
Is
there a genre that you’d like to write that you haven’t tackled yet?
I would love to write historical fiction with more
than just a little hint of fantasy. When
I listen to or read real history, it's filled with so many holes, unanswered
questions, and coincidences. Maybe
there's a logical explanation for them all, but where is the fun in that?
What
is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in
progress?
My next book will be called Invisible Ink, Book 3 in the Shadowflesh
series. It picks up several months later
from where Forget Me Not ends. Aileen is sent a letter from England, and
when she opens it the page is blank. Of
course it isn't. There is indeed something
written—something mysterious and dangerous—in invisible ink. Vinspire has a tentative release date for
this project in the Spring of 2015.
I want to thank Creatively Green Write At Home Mom
for inviting me to share a little about myself and Forget Me Not with everyone.
It's been a lot of fun. Never
stop reading -- Shawn.
Forget Me Not
Shadowflesh Series
Book 2
Shawn Martin
Genre: Young Adult Paranormal
Publisher: Vinspire Publishing
Date of Publication: March 31, 2014
ISBN: 0989063232
ASIN: B00IKZTVUC
Number of pages: 308
Word Count: 73,500
Cover Artist: Elaina Lee
Book Description:
Fortune has smiled on seventeen year old Aileen McCormick ever since Addison came back into her life, giving her the love she has so desperately longed for. That is, until a mysterious man slithers across her path and slips a spellbinding cameo around her neck. The cameo holds more than just the image of an enchantress who hungers for souls. It possesses a curse that strangles away every memory Aileen has of Addison.
Addison, a three hundred year old fugitive from the netherworld, recognizes the wretched woman inside the cameo and the curse she has cast on his unsuspecting love. The enchanted cameo has but one purpose: to torment Aileen with hints of love she can no longer recall.
Aileen cannot escape the deadly cameo. She runs for her life with the curse only a breath away. If she truly wants her memory back, the enchantress is all too willing to restore it. It will cost her, though. Cost her everything.
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Excerpt
From
Chapter
1
I couldn’t remember
the last time I had been afraid of the dark.
It seemed like a lifetime ago, when shadows and demons consumed me at
night, when the end of the world was but a breath away. That was all before I met Addison.
From the very
moment I literally fell into his arms, I had fallen hopelessly in love with
him. Hopelessly, carelessly, eternally
in love with him. And he loved me back.
Addison Wake had
become my entire life, my reason for living.
I breathed in his love and exhaled his name. My heart beat a passionate rhythm to which
only he marched. He danced into my
dreams, stealing me away into the stars at the witching hour. Since he had come back to me we had been
inseparable.
The last amber
leaves of autumn waved goodbye to the worst and best year of my life. The year I lost my home, my friends,
everything I thought I needed to live.
The year I discovered a grandmother I hardly knew. The year I found new friends. The year I fell in love.
The calendar
gloated that Christmas was less than a month away, but who cared? I looked forward to the first day of
winter. Or rather the longest night of
the year. Ever since finding out Santa
was just a figment of my parents’ imagination, I didn’t have much use for the
yuletide. But I had always loved that
long and wonderful night. Addison had
already set a date for that night, promising to take me to an air show in the
day and onto the rooftop at night to teach me the constellations.
It was kind of
embarrassing, but I had never really learned the stars. Sure, I could spot the Big Dipper and hardly
ever mistook the moon for a comet. But
that was the extent of my celestial knowledge.
Most of my time had been spent looking down rather than up, and I
regretted that. Just one more regret in
the long list I had been working on in my seventeen years. But all that was changing, and Addison was
helping me one regret at a time.
To say I
appreciated everything he had done for me would be an understatement. He taught me how to drive a stick. He trusted me with his deepest, darkest
secrets. He saved my life. He fell in love with me, maybe even more than
I had fallen in love with him. If that
was possible.
Mere words could do
no justice for how I felt about Addison.
But that didn’t stop me from trying to tell him, or show him. I poured my heart out into haiku almost
daily. I swirled his initials into the
thighs of my worn jeans in three colors of permanent ink. I learned to say “I love you” in twenty-one
languages.
My most recent
declaration of love cost me an entire paycheck.
I purchased a star. Not the
Hollywood kind starlets walked across in stilettos. An actual star, in outer space, where no man
has boldly gone before.
Bonnie Fay and
Nicola had completely different reactions when I confessed what I had
done. Bonnie Fay wrinkled her nose and
squinted at me, forcing the kind of smile that told me I was lame. “Sounds kinda hokey,” she had said in her
southern drawl. “Sugar, if you’re gonna
tease him with something he can’t have, don’t let it be a star.”
Nicola, the polar
opposite to everything calm and conforming, had a completely different
reaction. She ached a sigh, crossed her
hands over her heart, and fell backwards onto my bed. “That is just so…” She took a breath and clicked the heals of
her combat boots. I prayed she’d say
something other than “hokey.” “So…
romantic.” Then she wiped away a hint of
her sentimentality before it had the chance to smear her dark eye make-up. She had spent too long applying deadly Goth
to have it ruined by a girly tear.
Yes, I bought my
boyfriend a star. It was a little star –
I didn’t make that much money – cleverly hidden in the Scorpius
constellation. The website informed me
the little speck could be seen near the horizon using a telescope the size of a
small skyscraper. But the heavenly body,
now and forever known as “Addison Wake,” was indeed there. It was my gift to him, a little piece of
eternity that would smile down upon us every night until the stars all went
out.
Okay, it was a
little hokey.
But what could I
have given to Addison Wake? He wasn’t
exactly like the other boys at Redcliff High.
To be perfectly clear, he was nothing at all like anyone on this mortal
world. Addison was a phantom, a fugitive
from the netherworld, casually walking among the living as shadowflesh. He willed his dark, mysterious ether into the
tall, lean embodiment of perfection. An
immortal soul, yet vulnerable shadowflesh.
And no, I didn’t
need my head examined… or maybe I did.
Addison was
completely wrong for me, completely wrong for any living, breathing girl who
had a fondness for staying alive. The
more I knew we shouldn’t be together, the more I was drawn to him. Like a knot, the harder a person tried to
pull it apart the tighter it got.
To show my love for
Addison, I had to think of something as unique, something as ageless as
he. Haiku hadn’t cut it. And it wasn’t like I could burn him a CD of
my favorite music and expect it to mean anything in a year, or a decade, or a
century. But a star, it would be
forever.
And when that long
and wonderful night finally came and Addison showed me the constellations, I
would surprise him with his star, pointing to the part of the sky where the
tiny speck was supposed to be.
I had no idea how he
would react. Maybe he’d shrug or look at
me as if I had lost my mind. Or maybe
he’d arch one eyebrow higher than the other over his smoky blue eyes and kiss
me. It would be cold, December nights
get that way, so he would undoubtedly drape his leather flight jacket over my
shoulders and wrap me in his strong arms, and I would kiss him back like I had
never kissed him before, like I would never kiss him again. And perhaps that would be the night. The night.
I no longer feared
the darkness. As a matter of fact, I
looked forward it. The longest, darkest
night of the year waited for me, and that should have been my happily ever
after. But fate can be a funny, cruel
thing.
About the Author:
Shawn Martin calls Springfield, Missouri, home. After graduating from Missouri State University with majors in Economics and Political Science, he bounced around the Midwest only to end up right where he started.
His day (and night) job is being a firefighter. Aside from rescuing cats in trees and removing burnt pot roasts from ovens, he spends his time finding the hardest way to do the simplest of things. The rest of his time is spent weaving words into another installment in the Shadowflesh Series. Visit www.shadowflesh.com for a look into the author and his work.
web: www.shadowflesh.com
twitter: @martiniaff152
facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shadowflesh
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