Monthly Archives: January 2013
Research
Research is my one of my favourite parts of writing a book. It’s just so much fun to do, to learn about things you’d have never considered until it decided to be in the story.
But what I’ve found is that the more you write, the more time you spend on researching things that you’d never thought of before.
For example, I’m currently writing my third book, With Silent Screams (and for everyone who e-mailed me in the last few weeks, no I don’t have a release date just yet, sorry) and so far have had to research the following things.
- Audi R8’s
- 1970s American Trucks
- 1970s airplanes that would have landed at New York Airports
- New York Airports
- New York Hotels
- New York mechanics
- The geography of Maine
If anyone can guess where this is meant to be a picture of, I’ll be very impressed.
- How long it takes to drive from Ontario to Manhattan and then from Manhattan to Portland
- F.B.I agents footwear
As much as Hollywood and TV would like us to believe otherwise, apparently FBI agents don’t wear strappy shoes to work. Who knew?
- Whether small towns in America would have a Sheriff or Police Department
- States of America
- Territories of Canada
Each of those things have only constituted a tiny portion of the book. In fact some of them don’t even have more than a word or sentence involvement, but each of them are incredibly important in setting the scene and getting things as correct as possible.
As a writer, the amount of time I spent actually carrying out research is much longer than you’d think. It’s certainly longer than I’d ever expected before I started work on my never to be published book, For Past Sins, 5 years ago. It was quite the eye opener.
After a while, I guess most writers become a jack-of-all-trades, knowing bits of information about a host of things; most of which wouldn’t be useful to anyone but them.
If I can offer one piece of advice; never abandon or ignore the research. Looking into one topic usually opens up a host of others and then makes your story that little bit more authentic. And whether your story is set in outer-space, a time of elves and magic, or modern day New York, you should always strive to ensure that those who read your story believe it enough to become immersed in world inside your head.
Born of Hatred – Chapter 2
We pulled up outside a pair of twelve-story-high, red-bricked buildings. I parked the car and stepped out into the cold air, surveying the large parking area with its expensive cars, which sat idly beside an expanse of immaculate green lawn.
I closed the door and walked across the grass until I reached a small bench beside an expansive koi pond. The large fish came to the surface, clearly used to being fed by passers-by, vanishing away back into the deep darkness when they realised no food was forthcoming.
“I don’t even know how you got us through the gates,” I said to Tommy, as he and Sara sat beside me. Unlike the other, smaller houses, which dotted the area, all with drives and garages, the two taller buildings had a pair of huge iron security gates for cars to get through before they could reach the outside parking area. I’d been more than a little surprised when Tommy had handed me the key card, which had gained us access.
“Friends in high places,” he said with a smirk. “Same person who gave me this.”
He passed me a folded sheet of paper, on which was written two sets of numbers – one four digits and the other six in length. “What are they?”
“The four-digit is the key code to the building on the left; the six-digit is the code to Neil’s alarm in his penthouse.”
“How the hell did they manage that?” Sara asked.
“The code for the front door is on file at the security company. No one but them can change it. The same company keeps the details for every resident’s alarm. Anyone who lives here is required to keep the code on file in case of emergencies.”
I memorised the two numbers and passed the paper back. “I assume you have a plan.”
“You get in, look around and get out.”
“Actually, I’m a bit more concerned about why you need me here if you have the damn codes, Tommy?”
“You’re better at this stuff than me.”
I stared at him for a good twenty seconds before allowing myself to say anything, just in case it was derogatory. “Fuck off.” Apparently I hadn’t waited long enough. “You’re a powerful werewolf who could easily get in and out without problems. One quick change to your wolf form and you’re basically the animal version of a damn ninja. So what’s the real reason?”
“Neil’s a wolf,” he reminded me. “If you’re caught in there, you can get away with little fuss. If I get caught by a werewolf, one of us is going to die.”
Why?” Sara asked Tommy.
“It’s a territory thing. If I get caught on his ground, he’ll protect it with his life and there’s no way the beast inside me will let a challenge pass if he attacks me. Best case scenario, I get away without tearing him in half. Besides, even if I don’t get caught he’s going to know a werewolf was in his home. Nate smells like a human, at least until he uses magic.”
“What does he smell like after that?” Sara asked.
“Power,” Tommy said. “And death.”
“Well, that wasn’t utterly depressing,” I said, trying to lighten the rapidly dampening mood.
“She did ask,” Tommy pointed out, before removing something from his pocket and passing it to me.
I turned the small radio and microphone over in my hands. “I’m not going on a mob bust.”
“It’s that or you wear one of those ridiculous Bluetooth headsets, which are about as secure as yelling really loud. I need to stay in contact with you, just in case he comes home early.”
I placed the radio in my pocket, clipped the microphone to my top and pressed the ear piece home. “I assume you’ve done some recon work to know where he might be at ten in the morning.”
“Of course. Neil leaves his building a little after nine am, and comes back at three pm. He then leaves again at six pm and comes back sometime in the morning between one and three. Twice he’s arrived back with a young woman, who then leaves a few hours before Neil surfaces. According to the notes, the young women were of… questionable virtue.”
“They’re hookers, is what you’re getting at, yes?” Sara asked, which made me laugh.
“I’m surrounded by uncouth ruffians.”
“And apparently you live in the nineteenth century,” I said. “I’m going to go break into his house before you call me a ragamuffin or something equally hurtful.”
Even Tommy had to laugh, but it was cut short by a serious expression. “Nate, be careful. This guy is a nutcase. If he sees you in there, he’ll attack you.”
I forced a grin. “Isn’t that why you brought me along in the first place?”
I walked off before Tommy could argue. We both knew that I was going into the house not only because he was concerned about killing Neil before we’d had the chance to talk to him, but because he knew that I could take care of myself better than anyone who worked for him. Over the centuries, Tommy and I had been caught in enough life and death situations to know that we could rely on one another to perform under pressure.
I entered the four-digit code and pushed open the front door. Warm air from the foyer beyond washed over me like a summer breeze. A single guard sat behind a desk opposite the buildings staircase. He couldn’t have appeared less interested in being there if he’d been sleeping. That lack of interest changed the second he saw me, though. He straightened up and pushed the newspaper he’d been reading to one side.
“Can I help you, sir?” he asked.
“You’re a bloody idiot,” I whispered into the mic. “There’s a damn guard.”
“Sir?” the guard repeated.
“Oh sorry, jet lag tends to make me a little all over the place,” I said with a smile and reached out my hand. “Nathan Garrett, I work for Neil Hatchell.”
“Mister Hatchell is not here at the moment.”
The distaste in his voice when he uttered Neil’s name was clear, maybe he didn’t approve of prostitutes being brought back to the upmarket building where he worked. Or maybe Neil was just a dick. I figured it was a little of both, and it meant that I could change tactics. “Okay, you seem like a nice guy…”
“Roger.”
“Well, Roger, I don’t actually work for Mister Hatchell, and I know he’s not in.”
“Then you should leave.”
“Probably, but you see Mister Hatchell was recently let out of jail. Did you know that? He served time for rape?”
The fact that Roger had turned the colour of magnolia told me he didn’t.
“I work for certain people who want to make sure he’s behaving himself, sticking to the straight and narrow, if you will.”
“You’re his probation officer?”
“Exactly,” I said. “My job is to keep tabs on him. He came into a lot of money when he was released, and we’re not entirely convinced that he got it via legal means. I’m here to check that out.”
“I still don’t think I should let you—”
“Roger,” I interrupted. “Do you know what your employers would say if they found out that the penthouse suite was occupied by a rapist, a former prison inmate and someone who could be committing crimes as we speak? What do you think will happen to the property values of the other occupants? I don’t think they’ll be very happy. Now, if we do it my way and he’s done something wrong, it all gets sorted quietly. But if not, then the press will get involved and the police will want to interview everyone in the building. It’ll be a mess. Is that something you want to deal with?”
Roger shook his head.
“Good man, so here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going upstairs to look around and check that things are okay, and you’re going to go back to reading your paper.” I slipped a fifty pound note onto the desk. “Something to say thank you. There’s some more in it for you when I come back down, if you forget I ever existed.”
“Deal,” Roger said instantly.
I pushed the button for the lift and waited a few seconds for the number above it to drop down to GF and the doors to open. “Good man,” I said to Roger again, and pressed the button for the penthouse.
“Apparently they didn’t go inside the building to look around,” Tommy said inside my ear.
“Well maybe next time you should send people who will do a better job.”
“It was their first assignment; sit in the car and watch. I’m sorry; I’ll speak to them when we get back to the office.”
Any anger drained out of me. “Okay, don’t go overboard though. My first ever assignment didn’t exactly go to plan, either.”
“Weren’t you about thirteen?”
“Twelve,” I corrected. “Even so, it wasn’t the sparkling success that Merlin had been after. Anyway, we have another issue.”
“Which is?”
“The lock on this door is a bastard of a thing. You sure I can’t just kick the damn door in half?”
“Not exactly a stealthy option is it?”
I mumbled something under my breath and placed my palm against the door’s lock. White glyphs cascaded from my fingers, across the back of my hands and down over my wrists and forearms, vanishing beneath the sleeve of my hoodie where they would continue up my arms and across my chest and back.
Magic is a complicated beast. For the most part, you think about what you want to do and, if you’re powerful and experienced enough, the magic will form on those thoughts. Magic wants to be used, to flow freely from the sorcerer, no matter how dangerous that might be. In contrast, the actual control of magic is very difficult. Even the smaller uses of magic, like lighting a candle, require precise movements and power, so that you’re not left with a big puddle of wax and a lot of fires to put out.
It’s why a young sorcerer is so dangerous, they don’t have the control needed to temper their magic and have, on occasion, caused devastation when their power has exceeded their ability.
Using air magic to fill the inside of a lock in the exact same way as a key was both time consuming and tiring. When the magic touched the inside of the mechanism, I felt it as if I were using my own finger. It’s a matter of remembering where each part was so that I could construct the key and turn it. One wrong move and I’d had to start from scratch, and it’s not something that I could do in a hurry. The more complex the lock, the more of a pain in the ass it is to use magic to open it.
The lock on the penthouse was one of the more secure locks that I’d ever had to pick. The main problem was that you had to turn the key once to make it click, move the key back to its original position and then do it again, but this time the click came further away. It took me ten minutes to get the lock open. I certainly would have been happier kicking the door in.
The second the door closed behind me, a continuous beep sounded from an alarm panel on the wall next to me. I inputted the six digits and the beeping ended. That had been my major worry. What if Neil had changed the code and not told anyone? Turns out, I needn’t have been concerned.
“I’m in,” I said, and started looking around the spacious flat.
“You see anything suspicious?”
“Who in their right mind would have weird shit sitting around the second you stepped into the house, Tommy?” I asked. “He might be nuts, but I’m guessing he’s not the ‘hang the dead corpses of your victims from the ceiling of your home’ kind of nuts.”
I started searching the flat, but found nothing more than an incredibly tidy place and some questionable movies next to the huge TV in his front room. Off the large main room was a kitchen at one end and hallway at the other. The kitchen, like everything else, was so clean that I made out my reflection in the marble worktops and although there was a lot of raw meat in the fridge, none of it looked out of place in a werewolf’s kitchen.
The hallway led to two bedrooms and a bathroom, all of which mimicked the rest of the place. “Tommy, there’s nothing here. I’ve found some porn in the bedroom, which wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight, but nothing illegal about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Extreme domination stuff,” I said candidly. “Women being tied up, gagged, beaten, that kind of thing. Not exactly my cup of tea, but also not an indication that he’s butchering women in his bathtub. Which, by the way, is also spotless.” I walked to the large window at the end of the hallway and looked down on the parking lot below me. “People like this don’t just give up and stop trying.”
“I know,” Tommy said. “They get worse, not better. All that pent up rage and aggression he would have had in prison, he wouldn’t have just forgotten about it.”
“He’s either letting it out somewhere else, or he’s castrated himself and he can’t do a damn thing anymore.”
“Something isn’t right here,” Tommy said.
I rested my forehead against the glass pane and thought about where I would stash something I didn’t want people to find. I’d want it nearby, I’d need it close so that I could go and look at it, to relive how I’d felt whilst I was doing whatever it was that had made me happy. “Did Neil take souvenirs?” I asked.
There was a rustle of paper before Tommy spoke. “He took their purses. Left them the money, but took everything else. The purses were recovered when he was arrested.”
“Does it say where they were found?”
More rustling. “Attic.”
“This place doesn’t have an attic,” I said.
I walked back to the master bedroom and glanced around. It was barely decorated with a bed, TV and chest of drawers. A wooden chair sat next to the window and a door led to a small, but well-maintained bathroom.
The only other item in the bedroom was the large built-in wardrobe. I opened the double doors and revealed a long row of clothes. I hadn’t given it much thought the first time round, but it wasn’t cluttered or full. I cursed myself and pushed all the clothes aside, revealing two leather handles at the top of the cupboard, which once pulled aside revealed a hidden room.
Once I’d removed the false panel of the wardrobe and tossed it onto the bed, I noticed a light switch just inside and above where the panel sat. I flicked it on, bathing the small room in light.
Once fully inside the room, I started my search. It took about three seconds before I found something wrong. Really wrong.
A desk had been placed under one of two lights, with a large pin up board behind it, leaning up against the wall. It contained pictures of women. “Tommy, do you have pictures of Neil’s previous victims down there?”
“Yeah,” he said. “You need copies?”
“Text them to me.”
Sure enough, after a few minutes, several texts appeared on my phone, and my fears were confirmed. “He has pictures of every victim up here.”
“Anyone new?”
I scanned the photos, dozens in all, each overlapping the one closest to it until it formed some sort of hideous collage of stalking. “Four new girls, their photos are the same.”
“The same how?” Tommy asked.
“He stalked them from a distance like with his previous victims. If he’s hurt any of them, I can’t see any evidence to say he did it in here.” I opened the drawers on the desk and found a large map, part of which was circled in red pen with the word ‘farm’ written beside it. I used my phone to take several close up photos before continuing my search of the room.
“I might be wrong,” I said after finding some thick iron chains, which were secured to both the floor and ceiling. “He’s more than equipped to hurt people here.”
“You sure?”
“There’s a map with the word ‘farm’ and a circled area, that mean anything to you?”
“A farm, you’re sure?” Tommy asked.
“Ask me again if I’m sure about something, Tommy. Yes, I’m fucking sure. No one has photos of people they’ve stalked and then a map of a farm in the middle of nowhere, unless they’re doing something horrific.”
“My client was informed that the police got a tip-off about some sort of suspicious activity taking place at an abandoned farm about thirty miles outside of the city. Apparently no one has had time to check it out yet; they’ve been getting crackpot calls about that serial killer in the news. Could the serial killer be Neil?”
“It’s possible,” I said. “It’s worth looking into at any point.” I stood and brushed my hands on my trousers, before switching the light off and leaving the room. The LOA, the Law of Avalon, would want to look into Neil’s activities. Hopefully this time they’d make sure he couldn’t get out again, preferably with a more permanent residency somewhere a little hotter.
I replaced the panel, ensuring nothing appeared too out of place, but as I stepped out of the wardrobe, I caught my foot on something and slipped back, landing with a bang. I stood to close the doors and paused when I heard the unmistakable sound of a shotgun shell being loaded. “Tommy, we have a much bigger problem.”
Witch Hunt: Of The Blood.
Today I’m pleased to introduce the fantastic anthology: Witch Hunt: Of The Blood. Before I introduce the very talented writers, here’s a little about the book.
Five novellas based on Devin O’Branagan’s bestselling novel, Witch Hunt!
You’ve closed the cover on Witch Hunt, but the story isn’t over … yet! Devin O’Branagan has handpicked writers to take up her characters’ stories and explore what happens next.
The anthology begins with O’Branagan’s own novella about Hawthorne matriarch, Vivian. Vivian and her fellow British witches work together to prevent a Nazi invasion during World War II. Then there is Colonial maiden, Bridget, who struggles with the guilt of failing her family in Salem, 1692. Her younger sister, Prissy, mysteriously disappears and finds another magical world. Julia, torn by family loyalties, love, and her spiritual quest, pays a huge price to continue the bloodline. And Miranda uses her powers against the great influenza outbreak of 1918—but finds the ultimate foe is prejudice against her kind.
Discover what was left out of Witch Hunt and revisit your favorite characters with these exciting novellas. The story isn’t done until the battle’s lost and won.
This anthology contains novellas by Devin O’Branagan, Suzanne Hayes Campbell, Keri Lake, K.L. Schwengel, and Krista Walsh.
All five authors of the anthology are available for discussion at Devin’s writers’ forum. This is the link to chat with them: Chat With The Authors!
Witch Hunt: Of the Blood is available in both print and eBook formats and may be found at Amazon, B&N, and Smashwords. (Smashwords provides copies compatible with almost all types of eReaders including Sony, Apple, Kobo, etc.) It is also available internationally via Amazon worldwide!
Two of the stories in this anthology are bridges to the upcoming sequel, Witch Hunt: Resistance, which will be released in 2013.
The original Witch Hunt is an international bestseller first published by Simon & Schuster’s Pocket Books. It has been translated into German and Turkish and is consistently on the bestseller lists. It is the story of 300+ years in the history of a family of witches, from the time of the Salem trials to a modern-day witch hunt. It begs the question: could it happen again?
Witch Hunt is available as both a paperback and an eBook. It is available at Amazon, B&N, and Smashwords.
But that’s not all. Before they all had to go, I had the opportunity to ask one question.
What have your writing credits been to date, and what are you currently working on?
This is my first published fiction of note. I have placed a few poems, and won some very minor contests, but this is the first fiction of any length to be published. However, my job as a book designer has put my work in the hands of tens of thousands of readers*. My design work— *inserts shameless plug: http://www.suecampbellgraphicdesign.com* unless you count pithy captions and compelling flap copy. (Well I count it, even if nobody else does.) The design of books is not only my job, but my passion. Along with writing. (Though it pays better.)
*unsubstantiated estimate—who knows? It’s probably a lot more.
I have one contribution in the Day of Demons anthology, called “The Serpent’s Kiss”, and another in the Bleeding Ink anthology called “The Night Belongs to Me”, both of which came out in 2012. I’m currently editing a fantasy novel called Evensong, which I hope will see the light of day sometime in 2013!
I published my first novel in December 2011, titled Somnium (Halos, #1). In February, I’ll be releasing the first in a new series, Soul Avenged (Sons of Wrath, #1). I recently completed the second book of the Sons of Wrath series and will be preparing Requiem (Halos, #2) for publication later this year.
This is my fiction writing debut, unless you count poetry. Many moons ago I published a handful of poems in various places. I’ve also written articles on my other passion, stockdog training. Currently I’m working on the second book in my fantasy series, the first of which should be coming out this month.
My first two novels were published in 1988 and 1990 by Simon & Schuster’s Pocket Books. They were Spirit Warriors and the original edition of Witch Hunt. Both of those novels were subsequently published by Heyne Verlag in German. I then took a long break from writing and returned in 2008 with Red Hot Property, the first of The Red Hot Novels, a comic-mystery trilogy. Since then I’ve published seven novels in a variety of genres including YA urban fantasy, humor, and paranormal thriller. Most have hit Amazon’s Paid Bestsellers Lists and all are doing well. Turkish publisher Dogan Egmont just published Witch Hunt and is now considering Witch Hunt: Of the Blood. Themes of my novels include near-death experience, life from a dog’s perspective, dystopian survival, and, yes, a modern witch hunt. I also write a humor column for TAILS Magazine. Currently I am working on the sequel to Witch Hunt, a novel titled Witch Hunt: Resistance, and the second novella in my Show Dog Diaries series. Please check out my website to learn more about my books, my humor column, my writers’ forum, and the work I do to support animal rescue: http://www.DevinWrites.com
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I’d like to thank all of the authors for giving up their time to answer my question and I wish them the best of luck with the book. If you want to learn more about each of them, I’ve linked their name to their website. You should go check them out.
That’s it for this week, have a good weekend all.
My Not Quite a Book Tour, Book Tour
Over the last few weeks, and for a few weeks more, I’m going to be visiting plenty of blogs to discuss a variety of things and promote Born of Hatred.
It’s not an exact book tour, because I don’t have a banner for it, or specific dates for everyone, but I figured everyone would be interested in reading a few cool interviews or guest blog pieces by me, so here’s where you can find me from the past few weeks.
First of all, the talented Krista Walsh has an interview with me on her blog.
The equally talented, and occasionally terrifying, Angela Addams also has an interview on her blog.
The wonderful Danielle La Paglia has another interview with me, and there’s a chance to win a copy of my book (the competition runs out today, so hurry up and go there).
My fantastic critique partner, Michelle Muto, has a spotlight for Born of Hatred. My second critique partner, the also fantastic, D.B. Reynolds, has another spotlight on Born of Hatred.
And lastly, because she’s been the most recent, Seleste deLaney has a guest post from me about sex scenes.
Also, because someone might be interested, Born of Hatred is currently the number 1 hot new Release in both Mythology book and World Literature on Amazon.com. And is number 6 in Hot new Releases for Contemporary Fantasy and 11 in Fantasy Fiction. So thank you to everyone who picked up a copy, and even more thanks if you liked it.
Michelle Muto – THE HAUNTING SEASON
Today I’m pleased to show everyone the next book from my good friend, and critique partner, Michelle Muto. The Haunting Season. I’ve already read this and it’s superb, certainly my favourite book of hers. It’s also genuinely creepy, so anyone looking for some well executed horror should look no further.
NEW RELASE! THE HAUNTING SEASON
New Adult/Horror Recommended for readers 17+
Be careful what you let in…
Siler House has stood silent beneath Savannah’s moss-draped oaks for decades. Notoriously haunted, it has remained empty until college-bound Jess Perry and three of her peers gather to take part in a month-long study on the paranormal. Jess, who talks to ghosts, quickly bonds with her fellow test subjects. One is a girl possessed. Another just wants to forget. The third is a guy who really knows how to turn up the August heat, not to mention Jess’s heart rate…when he’s not resurrecting the dead.
The study soon turns into something far more sinister when they discover that Siler House and the dark forces within are determined to keep them forever. In order to escape, Jess and the others will have to open themselves up to the true horror of Siler House and channel the very evil that has welcomed them all.
Available now!
Steve McHugh 