StanleyWheeler

  Author Interview with Samantha Evans Author of: Dragon Master and The Land of Four Series Please tell me a little about your current work in progress. My newest book which will be released on May 3rd: Arabella is a girl of high standing, and her father wants her to marry someone she barely knows. But she wants to be someone more than just a member of the court. With the help of some new friends and her curiosity, will she get her to wish to become what she wants, or will there be barriers along the way. Where did you get the idea for this book or series? Just a new idea came to my mind. It is going to be a two-book series.  Do you write in more than one genre? Just fantasy fiction.  Tell me about something that you believe makes your writing unique or worthy of attention. I love writing in the first person.  Is there anything about your personal history or personality that manifests strongly in your writing? I am a loving fan of fantasy fiction. Reading books have ...

  Well, Pilgrim, if you're wondering what all the fuss is about, I'll explain it to you.  For your reading pleasure, I've attached two excerpts from The Shrinking Zone , which is still available for only 99 cents in ebook, and $9.99 in paperback. Links to all of my books are directly above. You can also find them here. I selected these two excerpts at random, with the only proviso being that they didn't give away too much of the story, or spoil for future readers the outcome of the scenes from which I took them. As always, the author has generously approved my use of these excepts. Excerpt one: Rodrigo waited for Vince to tear out on the four-wheeler before he sent the Jeep hurtling through the sagebrush and the darkness. He rapidly increased his speed, going straight for the space between two sets of headlights. The one on his right must have caught sight of him, for the black SUV veered away and slid to a stop. Rodrigo didn’t slow. The other SUV didn’t stop, but inste...

  Author Interview with Christopher Keene Author of Cycle of Blades and more Please tell me a little about your current work in progress. I’m editing a romance fantasy book that’s passion project for me. Here’s the blurb: When Princess Emily is poisoned, ex-poisoner and journeyman Holt Gnarl goes on a quest to find the rare flower needed for the antidote. The flower is on the other side of a country riddled with plague, and Holt must obtain it before the month is up. To add to an already dire situation, the duke’s troublesome middle child, a young woman named Riva, follows him to escape the expectations of being a nobleman’s daughter. When the duke’s men don’t come to take Riva home and Holt fails to get her to return, Holt allows her to accompany him. Encountering both beasts and brigands on the road, Riva insists Holt tutor her in the art of poisoning. Holt agrees, but Riva soon discovers that many of his skills are due to the various masters he trained under, not all of wh...

 Short story completed! I say completed, but I've already got some tweaks in mind--move part of a paragraph, smooth a description, add a couple words of meaningful detail. The usual stuff. Every story is a portal to another world. They don't all lead to Mayberry and Joan Collins, but penetrating that threshold--letting your eyes trace that first line of words--threatens to transport you to another place, another time, another you. Complete the leap, drop into the story, and you may never escape. Some stories remain a part of you forever once you've embraced the trauma, the drama, and the dream. What are the trauma, the drama, and the dream? Those are my broad terms for the elements required to make the reader love a story. Other writers may call them by different names, but I submit that my terms as expressed at the end of the paragraph above score points for being the most poetic. Aren't great stories poetic at some level? Yes. The answer is yes. They don't have to...

  I spent part of yesterday extinguishing holiday cheer. The prevailing mood was frigid. With the landscape cloaked in icy white, and the temperature restrained to the single digits, I soon discovered that my worn, leather work gloves were woefully insufficient protection. After going back inside to warm my hands, and putting my cheap stretchy gloves inside the leather ones, I leaped into the action once more.  It was lonely work all by myself, but I shrank not from the fray. I threw the scaling ladder next to the chateau walls and ascended to sack and pillage according to my whim. I spared not a single string of Christmas cheer, dragging them from the stronghold and binding them deftly (or with the meanest of skill as the case may be). The lights in the trees, like guerrilla bands in their mountain haunts, resisted in a most determined fashion, but my superior strength, mental acuity, and tactical brilliance eventually prevailed. There are very few inanimate objects that can ...