Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Welcome Guest Author - Hilde McQueen
HILDE: Wendy O'Sullivan’s life drastically changes upon discovering she is not human, and is charged with guarding the Key of Peace. To make matters more complicated, she reunites with the Protector she's dreamed of since the day he rescued her from a demon attack.
Kieran Frasier, hasn’t kissed, much less loved a woman in over three hundred years, his heart firmly encased behind thick walls. The fierce immortal defends innocents from powerful demons, but can he defend himself from diminutive Wendy, who manages to get past all his barricades?
Faced with arranged marriages to others and battling demons that will stop at nothing to capture Wendy, will they be forced to surrender their chance at true love for the greater good?
STEPH: Where did you find the inspiration for the main story?
HILDE: When I wrote the first Protector book, Desperate Betrayal, the hero's brother Kieran stood out. The problem was that he was a silent stubborn male who would not talk, so I figured I would wait until he did to write the book. When readers began to ask for his story, the pressure was on. Thank goodness the story began to flow easily once I got started.
HILDE: Kieran saved Wendy from a demon attack two years prior to the start of the book. The routine is that Protectors erase the victim's memory after they rescue them and move on. Only Wendy remembered everything, unbeknownst to Kieran, the swipe didn't work. She had a mad crush on him after that. Then her best friend married his brother.
STEPH: How does the cover reflect the story?
HILDE: Jeanie Rusch is an amazing cover artist, isn't she? The scene is the aftermath of a demon attack when they burn down Kieran's home. The locket hanging from his hand is integral to the story, but I won't tell you what it means. You have to read the book to find out!
STEPH: What genre is Desperate Surrender, and why do you like to write that genre?
HILDE: The Protector series is paranormal. But a light paranormal I think. I have loved paranormal since I read "The Master's Of Time" by Brenda Joyce. Paranormal allows a writer to make up her own world.
STEPH: How long have you been writing?
HILDE: Not very long, four years. I am lucky to be published so soon.
STEPH: Are you a plotter or a panster?
HILDE: A total panster, I am as surprised by the twists and turns of my stories as the reader will be reading it! Love it!
STEPH: Do you prefer to read ebooks or print books?
HILDE: I was just thinking about this the other day. I am not sure. I love paper, but I enjoy the ease of carrying an ereader.
STEPH: Who is your favorite author?
HILDE: One of my favorite things is discovering new authors, so I have to give you two answers. New authors are Diane Alberts and Laura Kaye. Well Known author has to be J R Ward, she rocks!
HILDE: I was obsessed with Dorrie is a little witch. Her socks never match. Sometimes her shoes are on the wrong feet. Sometimes her hat is inside out. She lives with her black cat, Gink, and her mother, the Big Witch, and cook. These books were published in the 1970's so a lot of people have not heard of her.
Excerpt from: Desperate Surrender:
“Wendy?” A soothing, angelic voice flowed over her like a balm. She’d made it to heaven. This is an unexpected surprise. Fighting the fogginess, she cracked her eyes open. She tried to focus on the figure sitting before her, but her vision wasn’t clear, and the room swayed, so she gave up and closed her eyes again.
“Wendy, can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes,” the angel insisted. Of course, she would get the bossy one. Wendy groaned and squeezed her eyes tighter. Sure, she was as ready to look around as any human would be when first arriving in heaven, but it still freaked her out to know she was dead. Finally, curiosity got the best of her and she forced her heavy lids up.
“Heaven,” she croaked, disappointed that her voice sounded pretty much the same, actually worse than it did on Earth, at the moment. “Why is heaven so fuzzy?” She asked the bossy angel.
She frowned when the angel giggled. “Wendy, you’re not in heaven.”
“What?” Wendy gasped and tried to sit up. “Oh, God! I went to hell.”
Strong hands pushed her back, and she blinked, trying to focus. The bossy angel, no make that the bossy hell-person, waited, not saying a word.
Finally, her surroundings began to come into focus. The room was very clean and suspiciously resembled a hospital room. Wendy scowled; swallowing hard as she took in the beeping equipment, clear liquid dripping from an IV bag, and an ugly blue blanket that covered her from the waist down. She sighed and fell back, mumbling, not daring to look at the hell-person directly. “Of course, hell would look just like a hospital. The devil knows how much I hate them.”
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