About the book:
Mother Earth, wounded by the human race and its disregard for her resources, will recruit human souls to serve Her and turn against humanity. A rising force festers; Gemini, a clan of paranormal beings will systematically possess and destroy towns, cities, and states. Amidst the chaos, a forbidden relationship between Onyx, a lead Gemini, and Violette, a human, begins. They will both find themselves in the middle of a revolutionary war that will either save, or destroy our world.Interview with Jessica:
Jessica, describe your book in a tweet. (140 characters or less.)Mother earth has had enough. We had our chance at existence. We failed. Miserably.
How did you create the plot for Gemini Rising?
I saw the Twilight Saga films, I read the books, and then I read the Host. I took all of those books and went into a different universe. I was riding back from my in-law’s house, after Thanksgiving dinner 2010, and I told my husband and my then eleven-year-old that I was going to write a book. I told them all about it, and they said it sounded amazing. Onyx and Violette were born. It’s a series. I am not sure how long it’s going to be yet, but I’m on book # 4. I guess the why of my project is really simple. I enjoy writing.
Book 4. Wow! Good for you. Do you outline, write by the seat of your pants, or let your characters tell you what to write?
I write by the seat of my pants, and my characters seem to lead the plot in the right direction. I always try to create an outline, but it never goes how I plan it. Onyx and Violette have distinct ideas as to how they want things to go.
Did you have any say in your cover art?
Yes! In fact, I made it! It is so much fun! It was so hard to decide which one was “the one,” and I’m not sure I’ve found it yet, but I think it’s pretty awesome.
It is. I'm impressed! What books have you read more than once or want to read again?
Twilight Saga series, the Host, and Knight In Shining Armor.
What’s your favorite line from a book?
“Isabella Swan, I promise to love you every moment of forever, and would you do me the extraordinary honor, of being my wife?” Sigh...
Sigh, indeed. What do you do to market your book?
I blog, I Tweet, I’ve designed my own website, I joined Goodreads and Book Blogs, I attended numerous "Like" events and created my own Facebook page.
How do you get to know your characters?
I don’t. They get to know me.
What would your main character say about you?
Slate, a whiney voice: “Why am I the only one in this story with no super powers? How did I get left out?”
I like writing characters who do and say things I never would, as well as characters who do and say things I wish I could. Do you have characters who fit into one of those categories?
ALL of my characters are like that! However, there are some that are tamer than me and have longer fuses than I do. I would say Lilly, Onyx’s sister, is really spunky and sometimes spiteful. She is biased and really discriminatory against the human race. Sometimes I think she is my alter ego. I try to be an optimist about my life, but deep down, I know we are all just animals and so does Lilly.
If you could be one of your characters, which one would you choose?
I would want to be Violette. She is young, beautiful, and has many hidden powers that make for an adventurous life.
I want to be her too! With which of your characters would you most like to be stuck on a deserted island?
Onyx, because he is soooo hot. It would be hard to be stuck there though, because he could fly me anywhere in the blink of an eye.
What song would you pick to go with your book?
Any of the Twilight soundtrack songs.
Who are your favorite authors?
Stephanie Meyer, John Saul, Stephen King, and James Patterson.
Is there anything in particular that you do to help the writing flow?
I use music sometimes, but I also like to brainstorm while I run and when I’m alone in the car.
If you could take a trip anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Isle of White (Isle Esme) Brazil.
What are you working on now?
Book number four in the series and re-editing Books two and three. Oh, and cover art for all of them, while I also promote book one. EEEK!
The life of an author...good luck with the release of Gemini Rising, and come back soon!
Excerpt from Gemini Rising:
So here he was, a few feet away from the same tree where he had gotten distracted the other day. He hovered beside it this time, instead of at the top, trying to pinpoint where the voices were coming from.He saw a young man with black hair standing with his arms crossed and a distant expression on his face. He would nod occasionally at a young girl sitting on a bench in a yellow nightgown. How sweet, he thought bitterly. Young lovers on an evening stroll.
This was a good situation because people were easier to take over when they were preoccupied. He could tell by the low tones these two were deep in conversation. He settled in next to some thick branches laden with young magnolia buds. It was a shame he couldn't smell them; he had heard they were lovely. It was a shame they wouldn't smell them much longer.
He felt the thrill of the hunt roiling within him, looking for a way up and out. Similar to a burning sensation, it made him drunk with the heavy desire to take. When at its peak, it would rule him, control his thoughts and actions. Nothing had ever stopped him once past the brink of his cravings. Once he tasted a soul he liked, there was nothing to do but dive in and absorb its essence, taking over the body the way a captain steers a ship.
The transformation from rational thinking to animal instinct always amazed him. It never got boring or old, and no two souls were the same. Some fought harder than others; older people were more difficult to tame. Sometimes children were so fascinated by him that they would just stare, stupefied by his presence, which made for an easy kill. Children didn't have any premonitions of possession. They tended to focus on identifying what was in front of them, instead of fearing it. They never knew what hit them, never had a chance to worry, or pray, or say goodbye to their parents. He became their goodbye.
He pondered this in preparation for taking these two. As he sank down closer to them, the humming in his fingertips began to pulse. He could now see the back of the girl. Her long, dark wavy hair hung almost to her waist, and the frilly nightgown covered her from neck to toe. The pulsing was turning into a throbbing. Quickly, he darted around the pair to get a better look at the girl in her little yellow gown. She was small and fragile, no more than 16, his best guess. She was pretty too.
Closer and closer he levitated, until he was within sensing range, close enough that they would feel the heat emanating from him. He rolled over in the air to look at the other side of the girl's face. Something about her seemed familiar. He halted his assault, the delay putting a damper on his zeal. Was there something wrong with him?
He pulled away a few feet to work himself up for the dive again. He started his descent, determined this time. To strike was easy; to subdue and tame the spirit could sometimes take a while. Once in the boy, he would have to reassure the girl that her friend was okay. All they ever needed was a little pat or a smile; they were so simple and insecure. Sheep, he though bitterly.
He inhaled the scent of her, breathed it in deeply with his eyes closed. Who was this girl? He was getting angry now. What the hell was going on?
Instead of trying to remember how he knew her or to analyze the effect she was having on him, he grew enraged and swirled a little, working up his confidence. When he looked down to aim himself, his prey were running, both of them, to the church door. The boy was literally dragging the girl as she struggled to keep up. He followed close behind them, telling himself he could catch up, he could do this.
Suddenly, they both stopped, the boy’s face a display of fear and panic. He had alarmed them somehow. Had he gotten sloppy when he started to lose his temper or moved in too fast for the last attempt? It was the boy who had sensed him, the boy who looked terrified and confused. He flew up about 30 or 40 feet high and started his dive-bomb, a practical and powerful feat that never failed him.
At the last moment, right when he could almost taste them, they started running again, and it was either tackle or lose. They were within arm’s reach when he came to a screeching halt as a glass door shut in his face. If it wasn’t a sacred place he could just walk right through it and continue his assault. But this was holy ground and he was very much uninvited.
Why had he stopped? He knew it was the girl, he just didn't know why. It was as if she had thrown up an invisible shield around the two of them, a shield that protected both of them. But that was crazy! Never had a human defied him so effortlessly! She wasn't even trying, didn’t even know he existed, but she has crippled his efforts.
He felt the need to growl, so he did. Not very loudly, but it made him feel better. He wanted to know more about this girl and where her strength came from. He watched carefully as they conversed. She stood, leaning on the glass door, a bewildered glint in her eyes. She looked… lost. Why did he care? He’d failed this mission because of her. Why was he still here thinking about her? He should on his way back to the caves to report his losses to Tork and The Mother. Should be...
About the author:
I was born in Chesapeake, Virginia on April 19th, 1979. I was raised within the American Indian religion and was taught great respect for the earth and all its living beings. Powwows, sweat lodges, vision quests, you name it, I’ve done it. I was the weird kid who would confront kids on the playground in elementary school when they squished a bug. I would very sincerely tell them what they were doing was morally wrong and then I would pray for the bug to come back as a butterfly in its next life.I grew up admiring my father, Barry Weinstock, as an author. He took me around the country to different places so he could research and write his Wilderness Survival books. One of his greatest works, The Path of Power, was written with a great medicine man, Sunbear. When I was twelve I started hand-writing novels. My first one was two thousand pages. My dad always encouraged me and would rave about my writing. He gave me the confidence I needed to keep writing and follow my dream. My daughter, who is twelve, is currently working on her first novel. I hope to continue the legacy.
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