Genres:
Young
Adult Romance
Paranormal
Romance
High
School
Vampires,
Demons, Witches
Dark
Fantasy
Horror
240Pages
I
AM PLEASED TO WELCOME AUTHOR
R.
P. Channing
BANTER – STUFF ABOUT YOU
Q: How would you
describe yourself as a color? Think personality here. Are you a light and airy
pastel person, or more of a deep, dark, sultry and mysterious color?
A:
Some years ago I would have described myself as a red. I was very angry at
times for no good reason. This chilled out, and I think I’m more of a yellow
now. Quite calm about things, taking life in its stride. Things happen. There’s
no point getting upset about them.
Q:
Are you a morning person, or a midnight candle burner?
A:
I go through phases. Most of my life I’ve been a midnight candle burner,
especially lately with my new book out as I was working late nights to get it
finished, then working late nights to get it promoted. Occasionally, the
pattern changes and I find myself crashing at ten PM and then waking up at five
in the morning.
Q: Bedtime, relaxing
so you can sleep sounds. Is your preference, white noise, TV, soft music, ocean
waves, forest or meadow sounds, babbling brook, or something else?
A:
If I can’t sleep it’s because I have something on my mind that won’t go away.
So I listen to an audiobook. The story distracts me, and I’m also “working”
because I tend to overanalyze stories I’m reading or listening to. Eventually,
my mind is off the problem and I doze off.
Q:
What is the sexiest thing on a man?
A:
I’ll ask my wife and get back to you on that one. ... OK, I asked her. She
blushed, hesitated, and didn’t give me an answer I believe to be correct. (She
said the eyes - yeah, right.)
Q:
Did you like school when you were a child?
A:
I was a great student, but I was also one of the most troublesome. If I told
you what I got up to, you’d never believe me. I’ll never forget the phrase, “If
he only applied himself.” It’s
interesting that that phrase was used by the teachers who didn’t know how to
teach.
I
was close to an A student...with a pretty bad reputation.
Q:
Dress up or dress down?
A:
Because I work from home, I’m usually pretty relaxed. Most of the times I have
a baseball cap on backwards. But when I dress up, I go all the way. Once, I was
at a Black Tie get-together with friends. There were three people there I had
to introduce myself to twice because they didn’t recognize me.
BOOKS – ABOUT THE CRAFT
Q: How did you come
to write your genera of choice?
A:
It was a difficult choice. I’ve written plenty of stories (over a million
words, in fact) in many different genres, but I never published any of it. I
hemmed and hawed and never felt “settled.” I finally settled on YA because
there is tremendous freedom in the genre without being too excessive in parts
of stories I’m not comfortable with (e.g. too much horror or too many bedroom
details.)
Q:
What is your favorite part of writing?
A:
The first draft is always very exciting for me. The canvas is clean and
anything goes. It’s in the first draft where I just let loose and see where the
story takes me. The second draft is not so much fun anymore because things need
to “make sense” after that.
Q;
Now your least favorite part?
A:
Proofreading. It’s a nightmare.
Q: Would you ever
consider a joint project?
A: No. I’d never be
able to do it. I admire authors that have done it and have done it
successfully. I’ve always been a bit of a loner (see question on school above)
and I still am. I think I’d end up holding someone back if we wrote a story
together.
Although my wife does
give me ideas. She’s a YA guru, and I’d be lost without her input.
Q: How do you handle
a writer's block?
A:
I don’t believe it exists. As Stephen King says in On Writing, you don’t wait for the muse, you tame it (paraphrased.)
Q: Have your
characters ever taken the story in a different direction than you had
originally planned? Do you have a for instance, for us?
A:
It happens every time. There isn’t a story I’ve written where the characters
didn’t take it in a different direction. For instance, in Thirst, there’s a scene where Cory has his teeth into Kira’s
neck... He was supposed to be a vampire, he was supposed to be, damn it!
But
he never bit...
And
so the story changed completely from there.
BOOKS - NOW LETS PROMOTE – STRUT YOUR STUFF
Q:
What are you working on now? Would you like to share anything about it?
A:
Thirst is a standalone novel but I’d
like to continue the story. So I have half of that written. But I’m also
working on a Dystopian novel that I might release first.
Q:
How can we find you? Do you have a web page, FaceBook page or any buy links?
A:
Yes, I do.
~ Kira Sutherland ~
After a near fatal accident (and getting cheated
on by her 'boyfriend'), and beating up the lead cheerleader (with whom the
boyfriend cheated...), and being
labeled as having 'issues' in her school because she, uhm, sees ghosts, Kira is left with two choices:
1. Continue her 'therapy' (where she's told the
ghost is a hallucination and also gets her legs ogled too often...)
Or
2. Go to Starkfield
Academy, a boarding school for "Crazies and Convicts" (as the
social media sites call them.)
She chooses the latter...
~ Cory Rand ~
Cory Rand has not had an easy life. His mother
died in a car accident when he was twelve, and so did his mother's best
friend...sort of. You see, Janice made a promise to take care of Cory just
before she died, and so she lingers. Undead. A ghost that watches out for him.
Brought up in an abusive home, Cory quickly
falls into a life of disreputable behavior. After his third offense (which was
prompted by a girl, as usual - he has a weakness) he's left with two choices:
1. Be tried as an adult and share a cell with a
guy named Bubba (he thinks...)
Or
2. Go to Starkfield
Academy, which Cory is pretty sure is run by vampires. But, hey, at least
he'll get an education.
He chooses the latter...
It's at Starkfield
that Kira meets Cory Rand, a boy with an insatiable Rage who sees ghosts, too.
As well as other things, other things from his past, things that confuse him,
things like fire and witches and demons.
Things he's always ignored.
Until now.
Excerpt:
Prologue
-1-
The Puppy Eyes
My life was perfect.
I had the perfect
shoes and the perfect friends and I lived in the perfect house. My nails were
perfect and my hair was perfect (except on Sundays, it was always windy on
Sundays) and I had the perfect clothes. My lips were a perfect red and my hair
perfectly straight. My eyeshadow was perfect, my hips were...okay, and my waist...well...also okay. Nothing was wrong in
my life.
But then there was
Jack.
Jack was a problem.
He needed to go. I
mean, when you’re dead, you’re dead!
I had told him this endlessly. Somehow, Jack didn’t get it. I mean, I felt
sorry for the guy. Sure. Being stuck between this life and the next. But just
because I found him, does that mean I needed to keep him?
I think not!
Sadly, when Jack got
that look in his eyes, that weary, almost teary (if his tear-ducts worked)
look, I melted. I just couldn’t send him away. Not even Jack knew where he
would go after he died.
Would he, like, die? As in — dead, nada, kaput, finito, gone, no more? Bye bye, sayonara, ciao,
hasta la vista baby and all that?
I couldn’t have that
on my conscience. No way.
I lay on my bed,
wondering what to do about him. “Jaaaaaaack,” I hollered.
“Jaaaaaaack!”
Still no answer.
“Jack!”
Jack...materialized.
His eyes rolled down
to the ground. He was making those puppy eyes again. “Jack, I told you not to
do that. I told you not to play on my sympathies.”
His puppy eyes became
worse.
His skin was gray
and, well, dead.
“Oh, brother,” I
said. “I have to do something about you. If mom finds out I have another
‘imaginary friend’ — at my age — well, I’d die of embarrassment. But, like, really die. Not like you.” I wondered
about this. Would I die? Was Jack a
freak accident, or did all people live on like him? Think of the cemeteries...
The idea excited me
somewhat.
“What would you have me do, Miss Kira?”
“Knock off the Miss
Kira crap. I told you it’s just Kira.”
“Yes, Miss Kira.”
The dead. There’s
just no reasoning.
“Fine, Miss Kira it
is then.” Rover barked like a lunatic in the garden. No one else might be able
to see Jack, but I was sure my dog could.
“I have to do something about this,” I
mumbled.
-2-
The Rat
Mike knocked on the
door before I had time to leave the house. Mike was the guy I thought (at the
time) was perfect.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, baby.”
Baby, urgh — I wasn’t
his baby. I dated Mike because he was
the quarterback, because girls are supposed
to like the quarterback, because it’s just so darn perfect to be seen with the quarterback, like we’re brainwashed
into thinking these things from the first romantic doll set mom buys us.
This was my previous
life.
“Mike.”
“Uh-huh. Gonna let me
in?”
So you can try rub me up and then
complain when I don’t let you?
This, dear reader, was the big problem with Mike. The second we first kissed,
his hand went way too far south for
me to be comfortable — and I pulled back.
Mike suddenly wasn’t
so perfect.
“Uhm, I was just on
my way out,” I said.
“Kira? C’mon, open
the door.” He sounded upset. “Is there someone in there with you?”
Boys. As if.
I didn’t know much
about love (nothing, actually) but I
knew this wasn’t it.
“Uhm, now’s not the
time, Mike.”
“C’mon, Kira, what’s
going on?” He banged harder.
When in doubt...lie.
I opened the door a crack. “There’s a dead rat in the house, Mike. Been here
for days. I gotta go get some detergent and stuff to handle the stench.”
Mike stepped back. He
peered through the crack of the door.
“It’s really bad,” I
said.
“I’ll drive you.”
“I’m afraid the
smell” — I stuck my armpit to my nose — “has found its way all over me. I’ll drive myself.”
“O — okay. Fine.” And
then he grinned like he wanted something. “Later? My place?”
Urgh. “Uhm, sure...er...later. Not sure when though.”
“Six.”
I fought the urge to
roll my eyes. According to girls at school, he was apparently so damn good
looking — theoretically. But for me personally, he did nothing. Moved nothing.
Twisted nothing. “Look, I gotta go,
Mike. I gotta — ”
“Kira.” His eyes grew
stern. “You’ve been avoiding me...”
Bingo! Well done
contestant number one! And what have you won? A brain!
I tilted my head.
“Mike, look, this...rat — I need to
deal with it. We’ll talk later, okay? Bye.” I closed the door, not waiting for
an answer, and peered out the peep hole. Mike hung around for a second,
shoulders wide and eyes glaring straight at me through the door. Could he see
me? Did he know I was looking at him?
He kicked something
off the ground, and I had the distinct impression he mouthed the word Bitch before leaving. But I wasn’t
sure...
-3-
The Mack
“Roll down the
window, Jack.” Jack was recently
dead, so he still had a smell about him. (Which only I could smell...)
I had purposely
skipped breakfast. Maybe Jack would help me lose weight. I was (still am) a
little wide, although it had never stopped guys flirting with me. I know how to
dress.
But I could be
skinnier.
Lucy Rogers was
skinny. All bones and no boobs.
Charlene Carverton
was a babe. Cheerleader. Big chest (which she pushed out generously with a
push-up — if only guys knew). Toned thighs. Charlene only dated college boys
(back then), which I still think is pretty gross for a girl her age.
“He’s not for you,” Jack said out the blue.
“Hmm?”
“This...Mike — he’s wrong for
you, Miss Kira.” For all Jack’s faults (mainly, being dead), he has a good heart. Factually, probably it’s why I
kept him around at first.
“You think I don’t
know that?”
“Then why don’t you dump him?”
I braked at a stop
sign. Looked left and right. “Because I’d look like an idiot. I flirted with
him and showed interest, and one kiss later I can’t stand the sight of him.”
“So dump him.”
“It’s not that
simple. Kids at school — they can be vicious. I have to let it fade slowly. If
I drop the bomb on him, I’ll never hear the end of it through senior year.”
“And you care?”
Yes, I did. Forget
Guantanamo, schools are rough. “You
don’t understand, Jack. Maybe school was different in your day. But in mine,
well, we walk through metal detectors.”
“Schools weren’t too different in my day.” I noted the sadness in
his voice.
“You okay?”
“I’m dead.”
Right. “You miss...your life?”
Jack shrugged. “I like being with you, Miss Kira. And I
don’t remember much of my life. I think I’m in limbo.”
“Limbo?”
“Yes, like I have some unfinished business. If only I could
remember...what...it is...” He scratched his head.
“Any ideas?”
“Well, it can’t be love. If it were love, I’d be a vampire. That’s who
teenage girls fall in love with these days.”
“A vampire? That’s
just what I need — two undead beings
stalking me.”
“I feel I have something to do around you, Miss Kira. I don’t know what,
but something. Something important.”
I looked over at him.
“Me?”
I was still looking
at him when I missed the stop sign.
The Mack truck drove
straight into us.
A
reminder to the reader ~ before you leave be sure to take a look at the
Come
back and visit again.
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