Saturday, October 04, 2014

Interview with Katlyn Conrad


Please welcome Katlyn Conrad to my blog today and check out my interview with her and her new book’s excerpt.

 

Interview with Katlyn Conrad:

When did you first know you were a writer? Please tell us about it.

I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a kid, and I began publishing paranormal mystery novels through a small press a few years ago. Spirit on Fire is my first novella with Ellora’s Cave. I’m very excited about it, but I still didn’t see myself as a writer when I got the contract. It wasn’t until I got an agent last month that I started to think I could call myself a writer and mean it. That feeling lasted about two weeks. Now I feel like I can’t call myself a writer until my agent actually sells that mystery novel! What’s wrong with me?

How do you conduct research for your books?

Spirit on Fire has to do with shamanism, and a friend of mine happens to be a Hungarian shaman. I’ve also taken classes and read a lot about shamanism. I was really intrigued with the concept of the warrior shaman, vs. the healer shaman. My heroine, Samantha, is a bit of both.

As to the were-demon aspect of Spirit on Fire – I just ran with the idea that paranormal creatures were all were-beings of some sort, inhabited by a spirit from another place that made them were. For example, werewolves are people who share their bodies with a wolf spirit. Were-demons share with a demon-spirit. I’m pretty sure I made that bit up, but it might be a concept from elsewhere that fell into my subconscious, I forgot about, and then made my own. Is anything truly original these days?

What do your friends, family, and day job employers think about your books? Do they support you? Or do you hide any pseudonyms from them?

They think my writing is pretty cool, though I confess only a limited circle knows about the paranormal erotica, and it’s written under a pseudonym.

When do you know a story is working for you?

I know when it’s not working for me – when I don’t want to work on it. When the book is working, I’m eager to keep writing.

Please tell us what inspired the book you’re spotlighting today. Is there a story behind the story?

In order to become a shaman, one has to go through a sort of spiritual dismemberment. The person is essentially torn down and then spiritually rebuilt as a shaman. I wondered how one comes out from that as a whole human. At the beginning of the novella, my shaman, Samantha, has come through the process and is fairly well-adjusted, though she hasn’t come into her full power as a shaman yet. The demon-hero, Marek, has also gone through a trauma of his own and is coping pretty well, but he still has some lessons to learn.

For fun:

What is your favorite go to meal?

Burritos. I love California/Mexican food, and need to specify that because my Mexican friends have informed me that burritos are NOT Mexican food. Fair enough. They’re delicious.

 

What is your favorite way to relax?

Reading!


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Spirit on Fire

By: Katlyn Conrad

ISBN: 9781419993480

Book Length: Novella

Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing Inc., Imprint: Romantica®, Line: Twilight

Format: Ebook

Available for all ebook formats at  Ellora’s Cave (http://www.ellorascave.com/spirit-on-fire.html)

Shamans and Shifters, Book One

Samantha wants a normal life but the were world won’t leave the sexy new shaman alone. An outcast, she has the potential to control were spirits of all kinds—if only she can figure out how. When she encounters a red-hot demon were, everything she never wanted to know about the supernatural gets turned on its head.

The fire demon Marek claims he’s been ordered to kill Samantha but he’s disobeying the command. He’s come to save her instead, so they can work together against his sadistic vampire master. Demons are notorious liars, so Samantha has her doubts but no choice. A common cause—survival—draws them together and cool suspicion turns to sexual heat.

A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

 

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Excerpt

The werewolf paid cash, sliding the change into the hip pocket of his jeans.

At the other end of the counter Samantha pretended to study the flyers on the cork bulletin board—a high school production of The Tempest, a ten percent discount on acupuncture, a tai chi class at the local Y. The scent of coffee and the whir of an espresso machine filled the air, suddenly stifling.

Samantha had time to grab coffee but not for a were encounter. And if she was late for work again tonight she’d lose this job, just like she had all the others.

Don’t see me. Don’t see what I am. I am normal. I am invisible. I am shielded by a protective light…

Too late. Her heart roller coastered downward. He was striding toward her.

She met his eyes, determined to show no fear. The werewolf almost looked human. His plain white tee stretched tight against washboard abs. There was a hint of a shadow about his chiseled jaw and in her mind’s eye she caught a flash of rumpled sheets and sex. Like a photographic overlay, the spirit of the wolf shifted inside and around him. It snarled at her and her spine stiffened, the skin on her arms tingling. There was no call for the were to be rude, she thought.

He stopped in front of her and leaned against the counter. His gaze took a leisurely stroll from her low-heeled boots to her mahogany hair and corkscrew curls. Petite and curvy, she was a twenty-something morsel in a lipstick-pink trench coat.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” His voice was a husky growl.

“I think you’re supposed to say, ‘nice girl like you’.”

“No.” He grinned. “I meant what I said.”

Dammit. He did know what she was. And worse, she was responding. Her pulse rose, warmth flooding her cheeks.

She hated this because a part of her wanted to smile, to flirt. Sam was lonely and not proud of the fact. But once the were and his clan discovered she was broken things would go bad. Fast. The weres were all about survival of the fittest, and the broken were a danger to the pack. She’d be driven out at best and at worst… She pushed that memory aside, the beating from a pack of female weres who had left her for dead. The surgeries that had followed. The drugs. The confusion. She’d wanted to die then, had expected death.

God, how she wanted to be normal.

“Sam?” The barista slid a white paper cup across the counter.

Samantha snatched the coffee, heedless of the heat burning the ridge of the cup into her palm. She turned to leave.

The were moved to block her and pressed a broad hand to his chest. “Sam? That’s my favorite name. Now I know it’s love.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped around him.

He bent his head as she passed. “Don’t leave, wolf shaman.”

“Excuse me.” She wove through the coffee shop and he followed her into the drizzly San Francisco night.

“Have dinner with me.”

“No.”

He grinned. “Breakfast then.”

She shot him a black-layered look. “No.”

“Why not? I’m charming, good-natured and I don’t bite. Much.”

“I’m sure. But trust me, it will only end in tears.” Her own.

He stopped beneath a streetlamp, the cone of light illuminating swirling droplets of fog. It sparkled in his hair like shards of glass. “What’s life without a little risk? Take a chance.”

She shook her head and hurried down the slick street, the noise from the coffee shop fading behind her. He was wrong.

 

1 comment:

Kirsten Weiss said...

Thanks for hosting me, Ashley!

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