MY INTERVIEW WITH AUTHOR MIRANDA MARTIN!

MY INTERVIEW WITH AUTHOR MIRANDA MARTIN!

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What’s your name and what genre would you consider your books to be?

Miranda Martin – Science Fiction Romance and Urban Fantasy

 

Tell me about your book. How did you come up with that (story, angle, idea)?

I have several different series. My first and main series is the Red Planet Dragon’s of Tajss. I actually got the germ of the idea watching Tremors as a child. I loved that movie so much and wanted to do something similar. That led to extrapolating out the desert planet and because I love Science Fiction I created an entire universe to go around that.

 

 

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How did you get interested in writing this particular genre (historical novels, mysteries, sci-fi, children’s books, etc.)?

I’ve read Science Fiction and Fantasy all my life but I was also always interested in the small romantic sub-plots in those books. While they were never featured heavily in the books growing up, I know I wanted more of that so it led me to discovering and writing in the niche.

 

What kind of research did you do for this book?

Most of it is made up whole cloth. The germs of ideas probably come from all over the place. In example of that the book Dragon’s Capture was specifically inspired because my husband, Jim, is a comic book geek and knew the basic storyline for Thor: Ragnarok so he helped get the story for that book going.

Each book is unique but in the series it’s always based off moving the overall world/universe plot forward through the eyes of two people who are falling in love.

 

 

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Can you tell me about your Series?

Red Planet Series – is my longest and I love this world so much. It’s all about humans who crash land on a planet that they’re not supposed to be on. They were on a generation ship (one of many) that left an overpopulated Earth. They were supposed to reach a planet that was terraformed and ready, but something went wrong and they don’t make it.

That’s the launch point for book one, if you want more you’ll have to read it!

A little secret I’ll share. The Alva Series and the Red Planet take place in the same universe. There are tidbits in both that are nods to the other series.

 

Do you have a favorite book out of this series?

That would be too hard to pick! I guess each new book is my favorite until I get the next one done. I’m constantly working to hone my craft, be a better storyteller for my fans, so each one I publish I feel is better than the one before it in that aspect.

 

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Where did you get the inspiration/idea for your series?

Everywhere! The zoo has been a huge source of ideas as we take our kids there at least once a month. Also movies, books I read, my husband is a huge source too.

 

What kind of research did you do for this book?

I did a lot of research for Tajss on actual animals on this planet, especially lizards and snakes. I wanted to extrapolate real world science into the book. The Zmaj are scientifically inspired in several aspects of their… anatomy.

 

 

 

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Was it always meant to become a series?

Absolutely. I have so many ideas and plans for this universe.

 

What’s a typical working day like for you? When and where do you write? Do you set a daily writing goal?

I work five days a week on my writing. I start out every day working on marketing for the books and answering emails. I answer every email I get from a reader, even if sometimes I’m slower than I’d like. I love hearing from them and getting to know them personally.

After that, which I give about an hour to, I write for two to four hours depending on the day. This leads to lunch time (Jim cooks for the family so I can keep working) and then I work with our girls on their homeschooling. If there’s still free time I go back and do some editing or more writing depending on where I’m at in a project.

 

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Do you have a new book in the making and if so, what’s the name of your upcoming book?

I have several going at the same time! In June I’m part of a box set with 19 other authors, Empires of Shadow and Ash.  My book in it is called Divine Gift and I’m currently working on Book 2 for that series.

I’m finishing a new Celestial Mates book for June, a new Red Planet Book that should be out in June too, and the last book of the Phoenix Saga for my Dragon’s and Phoenixes series that I’m writing with my friend Nadia Hunter.

 

How important are character names to you in your books? Is there a special meaning to any of the names?

Sometimes there is, sometimes it’s just spur of the moment.  I wrote a short for the Tajss series It’s Getting Hot, in that book Sarah is the main protagonist. I chose that name for her because she’s very much the ‘every’ girl. All the ladies up to that point had more exotic names but Sarah was a unique viewpoint on the world and what was happening.

I loved her so much and the readers liked her enough too that she got her own book and love story Dragon’s Desire.

 

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Where do your ideas come from?

So many places I can’t really answer the question simply. Everything can be an inspiration. I can say that my relationship with my husband is an endless source for me. We have an amazing love story of our own and we both work to celebrate it and each other every day.

That sounds cheesy and I’m not trying to paint it as perfect. We definitely have our rough times like any couple but overcoming those together is part of what makes a great story! No one wants to read a book without conflict in it.

 

Is there a genre that you’ve been wanting to experiment with?

Not that I haven’t delved into already. I was wanting to experiment with an Urban Fantasy setting but I just dove in and did it!

 

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What is the hardest part of writing for you?

Time management. It’s tough balancing out all the projects but also all the parts of being an independent author that are NOT writing. Those are the parts that are toughest for me.

Scheduling with my editor, promoting, all aspects of the career that are harder for me to manage and keep up with.

 

What do you think of book trailers? Do you have a trailer or do you intend to create one for your own book?

I love them when they’re well done. I have one I made for Dragon’s Baby when I first started. I’d love to do more but I haven’t found the time. There’s an art to them that I really appreciate. 

 

 

What do you consider to be your best accomplishment?

Honestly, every time I get an email from a reader telling me they were touched by one of my books. There is nothing in the world more satisfying than knowing I touched the life of a person. My readers are absolutely the greatest fans ever and I can’t ever express how much I love and appreciate them enough.

 

What’s the best thing about being an author?

I make a living making up stories and sharing them with the world. Is there anything better?

 

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Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

Writing. Always writing!

 

Have you always liked to write?

Yes, I have.

 

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What writing advice do you have for aspiring authors?

Don’t give up. Constantly strive to be better. If you ever feel like you’ve done the best story you can do and that you’ve reached the top, it’s time to find a new career. As authors we owe it to our fans to always be improving, crafting better stories, and delivering a better product for them.

 

If you didn’t like writing books, or weren’t any good at it, what would you like to do for a living?

I would like to do work where I help people. My husband and I are very active with our Church and put on average thirty to forty hours a week into volunteering on projects to improve our City and the world around us. I love making a difference in the world. Helping someone in need is one of the greatest things a person can do.

I’m not sure exactly what but that would be something I figured out if I wasn’t writing full time.

 

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Do you read reviews of your book(s)? Do you respond to them, good or bad? How do you deal with the bad?

I do, I know they say not to but I read every review. I never respond to them though, good or bad. That’s just a weird thing to get into. The person leaving a review needs to have the right to what they think about the book they read. I feel like if I was responding it, no matter if the review was good or bad, it would violate that trust.

Dealing with bad reviews, it depends on the review. I watch bad reviews for people saying the same thing or same type of thing. That’s valuable feedback on an area I need to improve or maybe fix in a story.

I’ve rewritten an entire book because of the negative reviews then gave the new version out for free to anyone who had bought/read it before. The feedback was invaluable to show me the story in my head didn’t come across to the readers.

 

What is your least favourite part of the writing / publishing process?

I’d have to say the randomity of dealing with Amazon. They change the playing field relatively often and while I love the opportunities they’ve given me it can be very stressful keeping up with it. I try to keep in mind they are always working to improve the customer experience, the same as I am.

My second least favorite thing is reaching the end of a book I’m writing. There’s always a touch of sadness for me when I’m writing the final scenes with the characters in that book.

 

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What are you working on now?

Red Planet Dragon’s of Tajss Book 9

Divine Gift Book 2

Phoenix Wars Book 3

A new Celestial Mates Book

And a book for the In The Stars imprint.

 

Can you give us a few tasty morsels from your work-in-progress?

This is an excerpt of the Prologue for Divine Gift which will be in the Empires of Shadow and Ash Box Set on June 12th.

 

 

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Prologue

With one hand holding my head, my father sweeps me off my feet and into his arms, crushing me against his chest. “Aviella, close your eyes.”

It’s hard to breathe with my face pressed against the warm, damp cotton of his shirt. His smell is everywhere. Verbena, musk, and a scent that’s just him.

“It’s okay, we’re fine,” he repeats over and over.

I squish my eyes closed and clench my fist, trying to hold on to my blue balloon. Something explodes close to us. It’s so loud my ears start to ring and a rush of hot air passes over us.

I scream, a muffled cry buried in my daddy’s shoulder.

“Breathe baby, breathe,” he reassures me. “Mommy is watching over us, we’ll be fine,” he says.

He always says things like that. ‘Mommy is watching over us’. It’s his thing, but the older I get the less it matters. I’ve never known my mom. She’s a myth to me. I know I had a mother of course, everyone does, but there’s no connection. She gave birth to me and was gone, leaving my father and me alone. It’s always been us, just the two of us, and that’s fine. Kids in school ask me about it but I lie. I tell them my mom died when I was born, which isn’t true, according to daddy anyway.

She’s not dead, she’s in heaven, he says. Right, living people don’t go to heaven.

Or they didn’t, until a full third of the world disappeared.

No one knows what happened, but they left a hell of a mess behind. Months later my school was filled with people claiming the Rapture had come and those who went missing were the chosen who went to heaven.

I don’t know and I don’t want to. Everything about it makes the noise buzz, deep in my bones, like billions of bees inside of me trying to get out.

I’m bouncing in my father’s arms as he runs. Inside my head the noise starts, the ringing in my ears making it louder. The dull roar that precedes it happening, the thing inside me that makes bad things happen and hurts people.

No, no, no, hold it down, hold it down, I say over and over in my head. I can’t let it go. It will only make things worse. I’m so scared though. There’s so much screaming and shouting and more explosions.

I sneak a peek out of one eye, opening it just enough to get a glimpse. We’re crouched next to a gray car. Daddy’s head swivels back and forth but he doesn’t see the man coming up behind us with a crazed look in his eyes; mouth hanging open with drool, hands grasping.

My throat goes dry.

I try to warn my father, but no sound comes. The roaring fills my ears as my heart beats faster. I try so hard but I can’t keep it inside anymore and the bad thing escapes. My eyes snap open and it explodes.

The man screams, a gargled sound, flying backwards through the air until his cry is cut off, his body slamming against the brick wall of an apartment building thirty feet away. Daddy whirls around, staying crouched and holding me tight. His hand convulses on the back of my head and he gasps seeing the mess I’ve made.

Tears leak through my clenched eyelids as the buzzing noise recedes. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine baby, you’re fine,” he says. “We’ve got to get home, back to the apartment.”

“Okay,” I hiccup.

“You have to be a big girl now,” he says, pulling me just far enough away to make me look him in the eyes. “You’re my special girl. Mommy and I love you so much. Don’t ever forget that. You know it right?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I reply, tightening back my grip around his neck.

I do too. Something swells in my chest until it hurts. I know how much he loves me.

“If we get separated, get to the apartment,” he says.

 

Something in his voice is scary.

Letting go, I push away from him to stand on my own. His deep blue eyes look sad and his face is serious, the same face he makes when I’m in trouble. The blue balloon tied to my wrist sways in the breeze. Daddy holds my stuffed, white rhino in his left hand, placing his right hand on my cheek.

Why is he so sad? “Daddy?”

He shakes his head, swallowing, then nods. “Yes sweet-pea,” he says. “Promise me. Okay? Please, just promise me.”

“Yes okay,” I force the words past the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I tried to hold it down. I didn’t mean to let it go.”

He glances over his shoulder at the mess I made. When he looks back there’s a smile on his face and he shakes his head. “It’s fine baby,” he says. “It was a bad man. There are going to be more bad men. Bad things. You have to be safe.”

Today was supposed to be a special day. The big event in the park was supposed to make things normal again, not weird. Everyone was coming out to celebrate and on top of that it’s my birthday, I’m nine years old today. This isn’t fair! There were elephants. I wanted to ride one and Daddy said I could, but then the ground shook and everyone was screaming.

The elephants trumpeted and fought against the ties holding them in place. My dad was quick, grabbing me and running before the rest of the crowd panicked. He said something about ‘it wasn’t supposed to happen yet’ but I didn’t know what he meant, and the ground had trembled again. It’s only gotten worse since.

A line of dark shadow passes across the car and my father’s face. Looking up, the sky is not as bright as it was. Something huge is moving across the sun. Daddy is watching it too.

“Is it an eclipse?” I ask.

He swallows so hard I can hear it, then he grabs me by my shoulders. “Sweet-pea,” he says, urgency in his voice and grip. “You do what you have to do okay? No matter what happens, you survive. Stay safe but don’t let people know what you can do. You’re special. You’re my little girl and I love you so much.”

Gooseflesh ripples across my arms and my spine tightens. “You’re scaring me!”

I fling my arms around him and grip his sweat-dampened shirt with all I’ve got. The darkness becomes so deep the car next to us disappears. Something roars and it’s so loud I scream, pressing my face harder into my father’s chest. The sound digs into me and it feels like it’s in my bones.

It comes, rattling my insides, pouring out of me with my shout.

Everything is silent.

Slowly I raise my head from his shoulder, ears still buzzing, and open my eyes. The car we were crouching behind is a dozen feet away on its side. Daddy and I are in a circle of nothing, even the dirt and debris of the street has moved away from us.

My dad blinks, shakes his head and says something. I can’t hear his words. His mouth moves but the sound doesn’t cut through my ringing ears. His strong hands clamp on either side of my head and he pulls me close, kissing my forehead. Rising from his crouch he takes my hand, looks around, then pulls me along beside him, almost running.

The abandoned street glows red. The sky is dark and where the sun should be is a big, pulsing black spot with blood red lines. It looks like a black eye with bloody veins. My stomach turns over on itself and I think I’m going to vomit. I try to keep up with my father but my stomach clenches. Pulling my hand from his, I stop, bending over and retching. He goes a few steps before turning back.

“I’m sorry,” I say, gasping air.

I’m burning hot and sweat is pouring into my eyes as I try to stop my stomach. It hurts so much. The buzzing inside keeps getting louder. It wants to get out but I can’t let it. It hurts people.

“It’s fine baby girl,” Daddy says, pressing cool hands to my cheeks and forehead. He keeps looking around and I can tell he’s scared. “We have to move Aviella Marie.”

I think I might puke again. He used my whole name. He never uses my whole name, he hardly ever uses my name at all. This is bad. It’s so, so bad.

“Okay,” I say, gasping in a deep breath.

I will not vomit. I will not vomit.

Dad nods, grabs my hand, and turns, all but running down the sidewalk. The tall buildings blur by as we move. Fresh rounds of screams drift down the street to us. We’re only blocks from home. So close. We’ll be safe there.

I focus on my feet. The sidewalk is broken in a lot of places, jagged pieces sticking up make it hard not to trip. It wasn’t like this when we left for the celebration.

“Sweet heaven help us,” Daddy gasps.

A huge crowd runs down the street heading straight for us. Their eyes are wide and their mouths are open in an endless scream as they push and shove at each other. Three people in the front fall but the crowd doesn’t slow, trampling right over them. Dad grabs me, pulling me to his chest as he turns and runs. Watching over his shoulder, the crowd closes in on us. Dad runs fast and my head bounces against his shoulder, jarring me with each step.

We’re going the wrong way! Home is behind us, past the mob of crazy people.

A loud, thrumming sound echoes off tall buildings growing louder. Something passes overhead, a shadow in the shadows. I don’t see what it is, but the mob stops almost like they’re one person. They drop to their knees, covering their heads with their arms and screaming. Daddy’s hand pushes my head down as he bends over me, still running.

“Don’t look baby, don’t look,” he huffs, breathless from the effort of running and carrying me.

The screams rise in pitch and I squeeze my eyes shut, listening to him. If there’s one thing I know, Daddy’s right. He’s always right, but my heart hurts as the screams grow louder. It buzzes, like it wants to help. But it never helps, all it ever does is get me in trouble or hurt someone.

No, I can’t let it go. I can’t look. Shouldn’t look.

I can’t help it, really, my eye opens just a little. It’s not really my fault. I’m bouncing awfully hard. I gasp, wishing I could have listened.

A glowing man, pure white with feathery wings and holding a massive, blood-drenched sword hovers over the mob. They’re begging before him, lying on the ground and screaming for his mercy. It’s an angel. Or it looks like one. Above the angel is a dragon. Huge, wings spreading out further than I can see, moving through the air with an easy grace that something that big shouldn’t have.

The buzzing grows louder than the screaming mob’s pleas.

“Aviella, no,” Daddy says, urgency in his voice.

Sometimes it seems like he knows when I’m about to do something, or it is. Swallowing, I fight with everything I have to hold the buzzing in. We turn a corner and once I can’t see the angel any longer it fades.

Letting go of the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, it hits me. A dragon. Wow, I don’t know if that’s cool or scary. Or both? Yeah, both.

Suddenly I’m flying through the air, tumbling free of Daddy’s arms.

“AVIELLA!”

It’s funny because everything is moving slow. Super slow, like a movie. The sidewalk below me cracks open, thrusting up, then I see the sky, black with streaks of red, before I flip back over to see the sidewalk still moving. It’s like I’m watching this happen to someone else. Turning over again I find my dad, he’s in the air too, almost like he’s flying. My dad could be an angel. A real angel, full of God’s love. The ground is coming closer and I know this is going to hurt. I close my eyes and wait for the pain.

Time returns to normal as I slam against the sidewalk. White-hot pain wracks my body, too much to understand. Distant screams fill my ears and a gross blood taste is in my mouth. Sliding to a halt, I lie still. It hurts to breathe and my face feels like it’s on fire.

I think that’s the worst of it though, I can move my arms and legs. Pushing off the sidewalk to my knees I open my eyes. Blood streaks the concrete and oh my god is it mine? I have to find my dad.

Climbing to my feet, I touch my cheek and wish I hadn’t. The sharp pain comes and once more my stomach clenches tight. Okay, don’t do that. The air is full of dust and the ground rumbles under my feet again as a loud roar echoes off the buildings.

Probably the dragon. It sounds like what I think a dragon would sound like anyway. I don’t know if that makes it a dragon or not. It could be some other monster. Or the angel. Maybe angels sound like roaring dragons.

Pay attention Aviella. I can’t let myself be distracted. I have to find my dad.

“Daddy?” I call, waving my hand to try and clear the dust from the air.

The rumbling in the ground grows stronger. The vibration is traveling up my legs, shaking my chest. More dust rises into the air. The rows of buildings next to me puff out blasts of reddish brown dirt, making it impossible to see. Coughing, I stumble forward, eyes closed, trying to get away from it. I avoid tripping over a broken piece of the sidewalk and finally get clear of the dust cloud. Stepping out and opening my eyes fully, the crazy crowd is running right at me. They’re scarily silent. All of them have their mouths open like they’re screaming but there’s no sound. Their eyes are so wide I can see the whites and their faces are all almost the same color.

A few feet in front of me is my white rhino but there’s no sign of my dad. I look from the rhino to the crowd. Another roar echoes around me, bouncing off the walls of the buildings on either side.

Another crack tears the street as the ground rumbles. The crowd tries to part around it but something huge, like a giant red-pink tentacle, reaches out and sweeps a bunch of them into the chasm. Now they scream, the sounds of their voices fading as they fall to whatever fate awaits them.

I’m frozen in place, too scared to move. I need my Daddy.

My eyes fall on my white rhino. Dingy with dirt, lying on the broken sidewalk, one glass eye staring back at me like to say, why are you leaving me here? Pushing hard, my foot moves forward. A little at first then I break through my fear. The crowd is coming closer. Still silent, which is somehow scarier than if they were screaming. Kneeling, I grab the toy, pausing to look around once, hoping to see my dad. On the other side of a parked car a foot catches my attention. That’s his shoe!

“Daddy!” I yell, jumping to my feet and running, hope full in my chest.

That horrible tentacle thing swings out again and sweeps another chunk of the crowd to their doom. The rest of them continue racing forward, less than a hundred feet away. Running around the car I skid to a halt. The body lying there isn’t my dad. My heart sinks as hope dies away.

“AVIELLA!” Dad’s voice cries.

Turning quickly, I spot him. He’s on the far side of the street, waving his arms wildly.

“Daddy!” I scream, moving forward but the ground rumbles then bucks underneath me.

The street rips apart just in front of my feet. Backpedaling, heart pounding in my chest, I gasp air as I struggle to not fall into the widening opening. It stops growing at last, but now there’s a huge gap separating me and my dad. Moving carefully toward the edge, I look down and my head spins. It’s deeper than I can see.

“Aviella.”

He’s on the other side of the chasm.

“Daddy,” I say, chills running along my arms and legs. “It’s too far.”

“I know baby,” he says. “I know, get to the house. Okay? Remember, heaven is watching over you sweet-pea.”

He looks to his right. The crowd has split to either side of the break in the street and they’re close, too close, they’re almost on us.

“Run Aviella!” he yells. “I’ll see meet you there, go!”

My legs move before I can think, responding to his command like they’re his legs instead of mine. I clutch the rhino to my chest, holding it tight. A bright light flashes in the sky followed by more screaming. Closing my eyes tight, I run blindly, unable to look. I don’t want to know.

It buzzes through my bones, making my skin crawl and itch. It hasn’t felt like this before.

An explosion happens somewhere close and I look. I don’t want to but I do. The dragon is passing overhead, making the buzzing inside me louder. Three angels follow in its wake, brightly glowing swords dripping with blood.

I turn a corner, cut over three blocks, then turn again heading back towards home. I don’t stop running. The look on my father’s face was enough. I have to get home. He’ll be there waiting for me. This street is mostly empty. A few crying people huddle next to steps or behind cars. I stay far away from them, who knows if they would turn on me if I got too close.

The scent of the water says I’m close. Dad insisted our home be close to the water. We have to have multiple routes out of the city, he says. Never let yourself get backed into a corner. Don’t stay anywhere you can’t get out of at least three ways.

My chest and legs hurt, I’ve got to stop running so I slide up next to the closest building. Leaning against the cool brick I take a moment to rest. The buzz in my bones is low, almost gone. Maybe that means there’s nothing bad close. I hope. Taking a deep breath I hold it and count to ten then let it out slowly. I do it three more times, like dad taught me, and I feel a little better. I make my way to the edge of the building and look around the corner. Home is two blocks that way then another corner. Please, please be clear, I pray.

It buzzes louder in my ears when I catch sight of the angel. It’s floating three feet over the street, staring the other direction. I pull back around the corner. What do I do now? I have to get past that stupid thing.

“Hey, you,” someone shouts.

I risk looking around the corner again. A young boy stands in the middle of the street with a rock in his hand. He has jet black hair and from here his eyes look like emeralds. He waves his hand at the angel, shouting.

“Yeah, you, fly boy!” he yells, brandishing the rock like it’s a mighty weapon.

He looks past the angel and I swear our eyes meet across the distance. It buzzes an entirely different tone than ever before. Butterflies dance in my stomach. The dark-haired boy looks back at the angel who’s still ignoring him. He throws the stone, beaming it right upside the angel’s head. The angel looks down at the rock then back up. The boy smiles, the biggest, goofiest grin I’ve ever seen.

“That’s right,” my inadvertent savior mocks the angel. “Come get this.”

He turns and runs, fast. Too fast for a boy. I don’t know how he does it but right now it doesn’t matter because it works. The angel takes off after him, leaving my path home clear. Not wasting time, I run down the street and skid my way around the corner. Everything looks like a scene out of a war movie. Buildings are crumbling, jagged chasms ruin the streets and the sidewalks are shattered. Burning cars lie on their sides.

I run past it all. Dad will be at home waiting for me, worried. I can’t keep him waiting.

Leaping over a broken piece of sidewalk, I skid to a stop just past the stairs down to our basement apartment. The soft ringing of our wind chime calls to me as I scramble back and go down the steps two at a time. Pausing, I look around to see if anyone or anything is watching. Lying down on the sidewalk, I crawl up the steps and peek over the edge, carefully studying everything around me, just like Daddy taught me.

Satisfied nothing is paying me any mind, I slide back down the steps on my butt and look up at the wind chime. It’s a rock shaped like a diamond with copper pipes dangling below it, sounding in the soft breeze. I reach up but can’t get a hold of it. Grabbing one of the two chairs on the other side of the door I drag it over and climb up to the chime. Gripping it in both hands I twist and it opens, revealing a key which I take, slip into my pocket, then put the chime back together.

I put the chair back where it was so it doesn’t draw attention. The key turns smoothly in the lock and the door swings open revealing cool darkness.

“Daddy?” I ask. Silence greets me. A knot clenches my stomach. “Daddy?”

Flipping the light switch nothing happens. Okay. He’s not here yet. That just means I beat him home. That’s all. It’s okay, nothing wrong at all.

Closing and locking the door behind me, I bite my lower lip. I don’t know what to do now. I plop down on the couch and clutch my white rhino to my chest. A yawn comes out of nowhere making my eyes water. I blink several times, but another comes then another. The dim light coming through the window is growing dimmer and I can’t fight it any longer.

Feeling heavy, I get off the couch and walk down the hall to our bedrooms. I pause at the door to mine, looking in at my bed, covered with stuffed animals. No, it’s not what I want. I go to the next door and into my father’s room. Crawling up onto his bed, I pull the blankets up over my head, surrounding myself with the smell of him.

He’ll be here soon. Everything will be fine. He’s okay. I think the words over and over until sleep claims me.

 

 

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Why did you choose to write in your genre? If you write in more than one, how do you balance them?

Science Fiction Romance and Urban Fantasy. I write more in SFR than I do in UF but I love both of them. I love reading them and I love writing them.

Balancing them I try to make sure I’m delivering what readers are asking for so it often comes down to what am I getting requests for more of in my email?

 

Where did your love of books come from?

I started reading at a very young age, before school even, and I’ve been a reader ever since. I read voraciously and fast. I devour books.

 

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Do you have any favorite authors or favorite books?

Brandon Sanderson, Jacqueline Carrey, and the Deathgate Cycle by Margaret Weiss and Tracey Hickman

 

Of all the characters you have created, which is your favourite and why?

Oh, so hard to choose! Maybe Ladon, he has a quiet honor about him and he was the one, when writing and getting to know him, that really set up the Zmaj race for me and the readers.

No matter how much I outline or prepare ahead, when I start writing the characters come into a life of their own and take me on a journey with them, showing their world to me that I then share with the reader. Ladon definitely did that.

  

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Does writing energize or exhaust you?

It varies. Usually I’d go with more towards exhausting. A lot goes into the heavy create of it and I spend four to five hours sitting in a chair or pacing my office while working out a story. When I’m finished I like to go outside and get some space, remind myself which world I’m supposed to have my head in!

 

What is your writing Kryptonite?

Hmmm, I’m not sure how to answer this one. Endings are probably my weakest point I’m working to improve. It’s really hard to find the perfect place to leave the characters, probably because I don’t want to!

 

 

 

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

I try, very hard, to deliver a mix. I want the story to be exactly what they want but during that I like to throw in some depth and surprises that give them a wow moment.

 

What other authors are you friends with, and how do they help you become a better writer?

I’m friends with so many and everyone of them has been such a godsend to me and my career! I’m active in a vibrant author community and attended my first ever conference back in February meeting a lot of people for the first time in person which was amazing.

Lee Savino, Renee Rose, Sara Page & Sean Moriarty, Lilli Zander, Nadia Hunter, the list goes on and on.

 

 

 

 

If you were writing a book about your life, what would the title be?

A Walk With Dragons

My love of fantasy and dragons in general pervade my life and my husband is a bit like my dragon, strong, alpha, and always ready to protect me.

 

What question have you always wanted to be asked in an interview? How would you answer that question?

This interview asked everything I can think of!

 

 

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Where can your fans find you and follow??

They can join my Muses on FB:  https://www.facebook.com/groups/mirandamartin/

Or my Newsletter:

http://newsletter.mirandamartinromance.com/

 

 

 

Thank you for taking your time to do this interview ❤️

 

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