Deadly Ever After

Archive for the tag “new novels”

Running Home Character Expo: Nicholas

IF THIS IS ABOUT ME, IT BETTER BE GOOD. OF COURSE IT WILL BE GOOD…IT’S ABOUT ME.

TODAY’S BREW: The end of my S’mores coffee. Now I must drink coffee like a peasant.

By Julie

HOLY JESUS CHRIST, RUNNING HOME WILL BE OUT IN A WEEK.

Before the masses meet my main man, Nicholas French, you guys do.

Nicholas is a bit of a celebrity among the Shinigami vampires. The classic ‘men want to be him and women want to be with him’ golden boy that does everything just a little better than everyone else, and never lets you forget it. One of those guys that everybody likes almost as much as he likes himself. Sincere underneath the sarcasm that will bite your face off, what you see is what you get with Nicholas, once you dig deep enough, if you get that close.

When Ellie gets her first glimpse of him, he looked like this:

But usually, he’s more like this:

He may look really good in a tux, but he’s a lot more of a thermal shirt, tee shirt, shirtless guy, living deep in the woods in a cabin he and a few of his fastest friends built, filled with a bunch more stuff that he built, all of which help hide him away when he can’t take being Nicholas French, public spectacle anymore.

His connection to Ellie is evident right away. Only he knows why, and he’s not telling. It makes things agonizing for Ellie much of the time, knowing that there is more to how they feel about each other, and having to trust Nicholas when he says it will all make sense one day. Nothing ever makes sense for Ellie Morgan, and when Nicholas shows up, filling all the gaps she’s always lived with, she doesn’t care to wait to uncover any more mysteries. As usual, Nicholas knows what’s best, and the rest of us are just along for the ride.

You may have noticed, Nicholas looks a lot like Robert Downey Jr.

THAT’S BECAUSE HE KINDA IS.

So, if you had another vision of him, sorry. But this charming, mature, painfully witty, well-read, martial artist extraordinaire is Nicholas French in every aspect, right down to his voice and eyes that can almost make his snarky comments for him. He’s perfect. And like any perfect man, he has depths that stay hidden even from him at times, making him not just another pretty face. And arms. And hands and abs and thighs.

Wait, what was that? Oh yeah, blog post!

I don’t want to tell you about Nicholas’s life here, or why he’s a vampire, or what the Shinigami truly are. I don’t want to tell you what tortures my Nicholas….Ellie’s Nicholas, whatever….but you’ll know soon enough. I promise surprises with this character that you won’t soon forget.

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Too Much Fun With Kat: Running Home Character Expo

TODAY’S BREW: It’s S’mores flavored!

by Julie

Running Home is almost real! In nine days you’ll meet all of the vampires, the doomed, and the fighters in person, but until then I will give you a character at a time.

Kat is a favorite of…well, just about everybody’s, just like the real life person who she ended up morphing into a bit; our very own Kristen Strassel.

She’s a red-headed kitten of a woman, with an unassuming heart, and a romantic sense of adventure that gets her into too much trouble. Kat will try anything, with a smile on her face that begs you to come along for the ride. That almost childlike enthusiasm is why she ran away to the big city, where she crashed and burned, sending her back to her hometown of Ossipee, and her forever friend, Ellie Morgan.

Ellie and Kat are opposites in every way possible, which always makes for the best friendships. But Ellie, being who she is, is a little suspect of her attachment to Kat, and feels there may be something bigger at play that keeps them together when they need each other most. (Bit of a spoiler.) Kat keeps Ellie from becoming a complete introvert, worrying at her complete disinterest in humanity, and constantly setting her up with some guy that Ellie just cannot click with. But, in that Kat way, she always gets Ellie to agree to her cooked up plans, which while not always safe, do always turn out to be interesting.

Childlike enthusiasm personified.

Kat is not a bimbo, but she plays one on TV. Not the conniving ditz who plays dumb to get all the guys, our Kitty Kat is a little insecure about how quick she really is, and tends to only show the side of her that is bubbly, outgoing to a fault, the life of the party, and a hopeless romantic, if not well-schooled in the ways of men. It’s the ability to see that there’s even more to this delight of a girl that makes Ellie so attached to her and the life she leads, makes Roman look at her like a little sister to be protected, and makes our resident psychopath, Chris Lynch, fall for her.

She’s quicker than she lets on.

When fate drives Lynch to the sad excuse for a law firm that Kat dominates as a receptionist, her search for Prince Charming sends her into his arms. But for a man that only equates love with the need to possess in the sickest ways possible, it is a dangerous road she travels, and one that Ellie, Nicholas and Roman bear the burden of to the bitter end.

KAT: A LITTLE TOO MUCH FUN TO PASS UP REGARDLESS OF THE CONSEQUENCES

He’s My Roman But I Will Share: Running Home Character Expos

TODAY’S BREW: Water. I went out in the sun for an hour & feel like Vampire Bill. HELP ME, SOOKEH.

By Julie

 

Running Home’s release is quickly approaching. Like, HURK every five minutes or so approaching. What I want to do until then is A) HURK B) Dance and drink C) give you guys, our faithful readers, some extra insight into the characters and where the hell they came from and where they will go. (Without giving away too much.)

I’m overwhelmed by the amount of love there is from my early readers for Roman. HoHWhen it started, I just didn’t want Nicholas to be alone. I loved him too much for that. So I needed someone I could love as much to share his company.

I was on maternity leave when this whole Running Home thing came to fruition. And I watched The Departed, basically every day. I fell in love with Leonard DiCaprio’s character, and loved that it was set in New England, like the book. So, here’s my boy.

 

 

He was the perfect companion to Nicholas; humble (not Nicholas), and reserved (not Nicholas). Roman’s heart of gold is exposed throughout Running Home, as is his heartbreaking story of family, loss, and ghosts that haunt his heart. He was much beloved in life, and still is as a vampire, but the sadness in him makes him broody (hot), and gives him a darker side that takes everyone, especially Eliza, by surprise. It’s the understandable kind of dark that comes from a difficult life and expectations, and some piss poor luck. (Chris Lynch is his walking, talking reminder of what bad luck can do for a person.) This is what Roman feels like when he has to deal with Lynch, as he does too often:

Nicholas admires Roman greatly for his generosity and quiet confidence. It gives Roman the protector he deserves, someone as strong and worthy as he is, who always has his back.

Roman’s committment to Nicholas has a darkness to it, as well, that you don’t expect.

BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT A SQUEAKY CLEANY ANY MORE THAN I DO.

HE’S DEEP, MAN.

I hope you readers love Roman the way I do, because wow, I really do. It’s not the swoony kind of love I have for Nicholas. It’s that he’s so real, perfect in his flaws, which I completely understand and don’t fault him for. And his undying loyalty for those he loves makes him the kind of person I want to give the same to. I’m glad I could create a family for him that did.

Thank you all for your support of Running Home and me. Being able to talk about this character who lives so deeply in me to people who want to know him fills me with love for you all.

Letting The Harpy Out of the Bag! First Excerpt From My New Book

TODAY’S BREW: The Double Extra Magic Monster Size Dunkin Donuts cup.

by Julie

While letting The Animal rest awhile in its first draft completion and getting ready for the release of Running Home, I have been hard at work on a new novel, working title of The Harpy. I’m having a lot of fun with this, and think it’s time to share a bit of it with you guys, who have been here with me since I committed myself to getting published.

Here it is! The first excerpt from my new work in progress, The Harpy! I hope you enjoy it!

 

(From the chapter, I Swallowed a Hell Splinter):

There was nothing here that made me want to open up and spill all my bright and shinies all over the floor. The psychiatrist’s office became more depressing every time I entered it.

“So, Charity, how are we feeling this week?”

“Well, Psychiatrist, if I were feeling good I wouldn’t be here. But I most certainly am feeling myself.”

His little beard and moustache twitched with cynicism. “I can appreciate that. Charity, I’d like to remind you again that you can, of course, call me Dr. Mortimer.”

“Okay, Psychiatrist. I’d like to remind you that you can feel free to begin to call me ‘Patient’ or ‘Lunatic #854’ or what have you.”

He laughed, making the buttons on his tweed vest shimmy and threaten to pop off. “I think you like me more than you let on, Charity.”

“I would also like to remind you that if you don’t say ‘Charity’ in every sentence, I will still remember my name and assume that you probably still do also.”

He pretended to ignore this and brushed imaginary lint off his pants. Should I really be paying someone with such an obvious tick to map the contours of my complex nightmare brain?

“I’d very much like to hear more about your memories of the abuse, Charity.” Still calling me by name. It made me feel like nothing I said mattered to him. And of course, it didn’t.

“I don’t love talking about ‘the abuse,’” I said, using air quotes. “But I wouldn’t mind telling you that I quit my job.”

Genuine surprise. “Did you? How are you going to survive, Charity?”

“I always survive. That is not a question.”

“Fair enough. Why did you quit your job then?”

“Wait, I forgot my name for a minute because you didn’t say it. I quit because I fucking hate doing what a fat ass letch like Roger tells me to do. I can see him staring at me, at all the girls, he’s all fucking sweaty, too, and I just know he’s waiting for me to tell him it’s okay to stare or grope me or whatever.”

“But you’ve dealt with that feeling for him for almost six months. Why the sudden change?”

“It isn’t sudden. But I do feel like now if I were to meet him in a dark alley that I would claw his eyes out and eat them, sucking on them like bloody little lollipops, hoping I could remember through the taste to kick him as he screamed in agony on the filthy ground. So, that’s a change.”

He looked at me, totally blank.

“No, that was not for shock value. That was what I envisioned when I told him off. To answer your next question, no it does not worry me, and yes, of course it should.”

He smiled, like this shit was something he heard all the time, and I got pissed. I could feel fire in my veins, electricity in my eyes, claws itching to protrude from my fingertips. My lips peeled back over my teeth in a snarl that I didn’t try to hold back.

Well, where’s your smartass smile now, Dr. Mortimer?

“Do you—“ He wiped his forehead with a douchebag handkerchief, “do you feel this sort of anger often, Charity?”

“That time I did forget my name, but just for a minute.” My turn to smile.

“Would you say you enjoy that feeling you just had?”

“The last time I felt that happy was when my mother told me she was done with heroin the first time. Blissful. I remember looking in the mirror, not recognizing the smile on my face because I had never seen it before. This feels like that, like I could never be happier than when that rage takes the sunlight away.”

He cringed, but I give him credit, he continued to ask questions.

“Charity, do you want to be happy if it means this is what happens to you?” Sweat dripped down the side of his head.

I leaned forward and his eyes moved from my fishnets to my breasts. “This feeling is the only thing that matters, and what’s happening to me isn’t real. Isn’t that what you told me, Psychiatrist?”

Sitting up straighter, he ignored my chest again, and played Psychiatrist. “I believe that you think you are becoming a monster at night that ravages men and eats their entrails. I believe that to you it is very real.”

It was fun to watch him try not to be afraid, trying not to believe what was right in front of him. It was fun when I killed them in their beds, in bars, in their cars. It was fun to see when a terrible man no longer believed that he was the most terrible thing there was.

This guy was a good guy, who wanted to help me but couldn’t. And it’s why I hated being just a person during the day, the same old Charity who controlled fucking nothing. I felt the heat flow out of me slowly, relaxing my limbs as it went. My eyes didn’t burn. My heart did.

“You won’t believe what you’ve just seen in front of you?”

“Charity—“

“Psychiatrist.”

That actually put him more at ease. “Charity, a person can make all kinds of things happen if they believe it to be true. Success, failure, growth, physical changes.” He motioned to my body, and I leaned back to let him take it all in. “It is what we want most that we make come alive.” He breathed deep. I could see the worry in his face, and I knew he was afraid to see me like that again if he said the wrong thing. “It is our innermost demons that we give voice to when we think we can destroy them.”

I looked away, staring at the shelves of books. “Did you make that up yourself? About the demons?”

Chuckling, he said, “Yes, I suppose I did.”

“It was beautiful.”

“That struck a chord with you?”

I stood up, finishing this session myself, taking the reigns. “I liked it. Except I am the demon. And I want to let myself burn.”

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