Featured Author: Genevieve Fairbrother

Paranormal, suspense, romance, adventure, mythology...Genevieve Fairbrother's Eleusis has it all, and she's here today to tell us about it. Don't miss her guest post and book excerpt following the interview.

About the book:

Macy needs a break to sort out her life. Her parents are dead and now a moody trespasser has set up camp on the property she has inherited. When the stranger confesses himself to be an ageless sea-god and tells Macy she has been guarding a secret she never knew existed, her simple life takes a drastic turn. Just when she thinks it can’t get any stranger,  a back door to the Underworld opens up and it’s time to run like hell.

This fast-paced adventure romance novel explodes as the dark forces tracking Macy surface to capture her. In the transatlantic chase that follows, she learns of her forgotten past and an ancient connection to the sea-god who helps her escape.

As events challenge Macy, she must come to grips with her past, determine what she wants in life, and become a force in her own right. Family betrayal, sinister plot twists, and unlikely friends fill this exhilarating story of one woman’s journey to forge her own path as she learns her true identity.

She soon realizes that to gain real freedom and become legend, she must reject her assigned place in history and risk everything in the process.

Interview with Genevieve Fairbrother:

Genevieve, how long have you been writing, and how did you start?

About three years ago, my husband, who comes from a family of writers, talked about wanting to write a book. I had never considered writing a book but it made me think, why not? I had an idea for a story that had been rolling around inside of my head for a long time, and I decided to get it out of my head and onto paper. It started out as brain purge and ended up as a novel.

What do you like best about writing?

Through writing, I like to witness a character coming to terms with a new idea or a situation and then use the character’s conversations to share those ideas as they form. I like the feeling when I know I have successfully written a wild and suspenseful scene.

What’s your least favorite thing?

Commas...I insert them where I think there are natural pauses in an idea or conversation. I never learned the rules for commas. They make no sense to me...I need editors to tell me where they’re supposed to really go.

How did you come up with the title Eleusis?

When Persephone was released from the underworld she joined her mother, Demeter, in the ancient city of Eleusis.
 
Do you have another job outside of writing?

Yup. I’m a full-time obstetrician gynecologist. I work at the largest maternity hospital in the United States. I’m also chief of the medical staff of 2,000 doctors, so this is a true departure from my “real” life. I believe I surprised a lot of people with this book.

How would you describe Eleusis in a tweet? (140 characters or less.)

A goddess escaped from the underworld centuries ago. Hades hunts for her still but times have changed and she’s done running.

How did you create the plot for Eleusis?

I had several ideas (The Persephone mythology, women in society, and the allure of immortality) that were important to me, and I melded them together into a story.

Do you outline, write by the seat of your pants, or let your characters tell you what to write?

I have a rough idea of the map but a clear idea of my characters and their motivations. I know where I want my characters to start, and I know where I want them to end up. There are points of interest along the way that I’d like them to stop and visit in order to progress through the story. There is an order, but if a character needs to meander off of the path or go to a Point D before a point C, I let them.

Did you have any say in your cover art? What do you think of it? 

Yes! I took the photograph that was backdrop for the cover. The artist used my concept and took it to a different level so out of my league it is wonderful.

How do you get to know your characters?

They live in my head, and I imagine conversations that they might have with one another. I can see where they go, what their home looks like, what secrets they’re hiding and why.

Sophie’s choice: Do you have a favorite of your characters?

I, like most authors, could probably tell you who their least favorite character is before their favorite. I am sympathetic to all my characters even if they do terrible things because I understand their motivations.

When you start a new book, do you know what the entire cast will be?

The main characters, yes! I have a murky idea of the peripheral characters, then as the tale unfolds, they either crystalize and become clear or wither out of focus and I cut them out.

Which character did you most enjoy writing?

Artemis

I’m constantly on the lookout for new good names. How do you name your characters?

I looked for names that had meaning for their character either emotionally or linguistically.

How would your main character describe you?

Honest reliable, unflinchingly loyal.

Are any of your characters inspired by real people?

Aren’t all characters a mixture of the people in your life?

Eh...not always. 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? Who, and in what category do they fall?

Heck yeah! My characters have power over the natural world, and they’re immortal. Need I say more?

No. That about covers it! If you could be one of your characters, which one would you choose?

Probably Artemis.

With which of your characters would you most like to be stuck on a deserted island?

Are you kidding, Jason?!
 
Hmm...I don't know Jason, but now I want to! What song would you pick to go with your book?

"The Heavy’s Short Change Hero" and Jason Mraz’s "I won’t give up."

Which author would you most like to invite to dinner, and what would you fix him? Tom Robbins.

How do you handle criticism of your work?

It really doesn’t bother me. Most problems in life and in writing are a result of lack of communication. The kind of criticism I’ve encountered is usually a result of a misunderstanding. I look past any emotional content in a criticism and try to find the disconnect and fix it. It’s worked for me so far.

Where’s home for you?

Atlanta

Is there anything in particular that you do to help the writing flow?

Going for run really focuses the mind, as does a shower.

What’s one of your favorite quotes?

"The truth doesn’t change, only our understanding."

If you could take a trip anywhere in the world, where would you go?

Morocco or Prague, I’m not picky.

Excerpt from Eleusis:

When she lifted her eyes to look out, the view silenced her mind. A ground mist blanketed the field outside the barn all the way down to the surrounding tree line. It was ethereal. She grabbed her mug and stepped outside. This time she chose the path that led from the upper field and wove through the trees to the lower pasture that bordered Little Choestoea Creek above the waterfall. The mist stretched out across the field, undulating over the dips in the terrain. It felt like walking through a cloud. The birds’ morning chatter and the gurgling and chortling of the stream at the far border of the field broke the quiet. Gentle winds whispered among the dry autumn leaves. She crossed the field and joined the path that edged the stream and followed it to the waterfall. The mist overflowed the field and slipped down the bank, hovering over the stream.

At the head of the waterfall, the water rushed over the mossy rocks and curved around the massive granite boulders. The stream cascaded over the falls and flowed down the cove to join the lake in the distance. Macy decided to follow the cove out to the end, where she could see the mist floating like a blanket over the water. She picked her way along the side of the cove, climbing up and over boulders of granite as they sloped down to the water’s edge. Sometimes, when the terrain was too difficult, she clambered up into the tree line and walked along the edge of the forest. Shortly she came out onto the beachy area at the head of the cove.

The sun was starting to rise over the hill to her back, and golden light began to stream through the trees. She looked out over the mists to the far side of the lake, where the light was hitting the far shore. The trees, some deciduous and now nearly naked of leaves, created a wall of mottled brown and olive. It was hauntingly beautiful in the cold light of the early morning. She sank to her haunches and wrapped her arms around her knees. Brown and desiccated rushes crackled in the light breeze just below her perch. Macy gazed out across the misty cove and took in the view.

A hawk glided in lazy circles over the water. Across the small cove, three deer stole out of the woods, tasting the air. Macy held her breath and kept perfectly still.

Suddenly, from the middle of the lake, a man crested and soared high out of the water and turned a graceful arc in the air before arching backward and falling through the mist, diving soundlessly into the water.

Macy gasped. The deer fled. She leaped to her feet and spilt what little was left of her tea. What the hell was that? An Olympic water-polo player couldn’t get that kind of air. Immobilized, she kept her eyes glued to the place she had seen the man dive back into the water. It seemed to take forever. Did she just imagine it? Then again!

This time he came corkscrewing out of the water and shot up out of the lake with the mist trailing behind him. He whooped as he spun up and around, and Macy inhaled sharply, clasping her hand over her mouth as he disappeared under the water. Almost instantly he rose out of the mist. She stood very still. He turned slowly until he faced her, then began moving toward the shore. He had spotted her.

She started to back up, stumbled over a rock, and dropped her mug.

He appeared to be gliding on top of the water, picking up speed. Turning, Macy ran as fast as she could and fled for the tree line. Her heart pounded, and sudden fear twisted in her stomach. It was obvious he hadn’t expected a witness.

Macy hit the trees, scrambling through them. Her heart convulsed sickeningly. She didn’t dare look back. The forest grew a little denser as she made her way deeper into the woods. Her pursuer was already crashing around below her in the tree line. He had reached the shore very quickly, and she couldn’t outrun him. Macy passed a low bush behind a fallen tree. It concealed a hollow, and she wedged herself in the corner. She hunkered down as low to the ground as possible and listened. She heard wind rustling through the trees and the disturbances that little lizards make flitting through the undergrowth. Soon the sound of the man tramping through the woods faded.

Genevieve's Guest Post

What are the challenges of writing a book that mixes mythology with today's world?

Tom Clancy is credited with saying “The difference between fiction and reality is that fiction has to make sense.” The challenge for my writing is that mythology is the wild and fantastical reality around which I had to craft my fiction! My fictional “real world” had to seamlessly meld with an alternate mythologic reality that defies the laws of physics, ...all of the laws of physics, and I still need the story to be relatable to a contemporary audience. It’s fun because I can create situations that can defy gravity and mortality, but at the same time it's difficult because there is a fine line between ridiculous unbelievable fantasy and a paranormal reality that speaks to a person living in this earthly domain. Eleusis is a twisted mythology but what grounds the plot are the characters who share the easily recognized human desires for self-fulfillment, freedom, love and purpose.








About the author: Genevieve Fairbrother lives in Atlanta with her husband and two teenagers. She attended Wellesley.

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Featured Author: Marie Astor

Catching The Bad Guy is the just-published sequel to Marie Astor's How To Catch a Bad Guy, and she shares an excerpt of it with us today. Marie is also hosting a giveaway. Anyone who leaves a comment on Marie’s tour page will be entered. If you purchase a copy of Catching the Bad Guy before June 10 and send your receipt to Samantha (at) ChickLitPlus (dot) com, you will receive five bonus entries! Want to receive more bonus entries? Get one point for liking Marie's Facebook page, and one point for becoming Marie's fan on Goodreads! Five individual winners will receive a piece of jewelry shown to the right, and one bonus winner will receive a $20 Amazon gift card! Please note this is open to US residents only.

About the book:

Janet Maple and Dennis Walker make a good team: she is a top-notch white collar crime investigator, and so is he. Both Janet and Dennis are thrown for a loop when Janet’s treacherous snake of an ex-boyfriend, Alex Kingsley, is appointed as their new boss, and the case that was supposed to be the highlight of their careers is dismissed for lack of evidence.
To make matters worse, Alex is asking Janet to get back together, and the one man she wishes would ask her out sees her as nothing more than a coworker. Janet’s love life soon becomes the least of her worries, as she begins to suspect that Alex’s rekindled interest in her is driven by ulterior motives. She is determined to get to the bottom of things, but she can’t do it alone.

Together, Janet and Dennis team up to solve a tangled white collar crime web that leads to powerful politicians and corporate executives. Armed with their keen instincts and skills, Janet and Dennis are bound to succeed. There is just one glitch: both are attracted to each other, and both refuse to admit it. Will Janet and Dennis solve the biggest case of their careers or will their attraction to each other get in the way?

Excerpt from Catching The Bad Guy

Sensing Dennis’s glance, the brunette shot him a direct look and their eyes locked for a moment. If he had not been waiting for Janet, Dennis might have explored this highly enticing opportunity. As it were, he would have to pass. But then whom was he kidding? Ever since he had met Janet Maple, all the women he knew and any new women he met became just that: random women. Of course he knew that he had no one to blame but himself. Janet liked him; he was sure of it. The only problem was that he liked her too. The intense sensation he felt whenever he was in the presence of Janet Maple was an emotion that ran much deeper than mere attraction. Such emotions were against Dennis Walker’s code of conduct. When it came to women, he liked to keep things simple, with no strings attached. Besides, Janet and he were coworkers, and no other combination had the makings of disaster written all over it like two dating coworkers.

Dennis had hoped that his latest conquest, Shoshanna, would free him from Janet. An heiress to a gym chain, Shoshanna was a twenty-seven-year-old voluptuous brunette. Dennis had met her in one of those swanky lounges. Surrounded by a pack of girlfriends, she was obviously bored by the types of men who were trying to gain her attention. Most men would have been intimidated to single out a woman surrounded by a fleet of girlfriends, but Dennis Walker was not most men. He had a gift when it came to picking up women in bars. A big part of this gift was his ability to guess a woman’s favorite drink—a skill that mostly consisted of keen powers of observation and generous tips to the bartenders. After supplying the bartender with a twenty, Dennis learned that Shoshanna had been drinking lychee martinis all night. Just as her glass was about to become empty, Dennis had the bartender place another lychee martini in front of her. As Shoshanna’s eyes lazily scanned the crowd for the source of this sign of attention, Dennis raised his glass to her from his corner of the bar. She smiled back, and within minutes Dennis was sitting next to her, chatting. That had been two months ago, and they had just returned from a trip to Turks and Caicos. The only problem was that Dennis had spent the entire vacation picturing Janet in a bikini.

About the author:

Marie Astor is a die-hard romantic, which is why she loves writing in the contemporary romance genre.

Marie Astor is the author of the Janet Maple romantic suspense series: To Catch a Bad Guy and Catching the Bad Guy, contemporary romance novels This Tangled Thing Called Love, Lucky Charm, Smitten at First Sight, and a short story collection, A Dress in a Window. Marie is also the author of young adult fantasy adventure novel, Over the Mountain and Back. Marie’s next novel, book three of the Janet Maple Series, is expected to be released in late fall of 2013.

In her spare time, Marie enjoys being adventurous out-of-doors. She often gets new story ideas while she is hiking up a mountain or trying to avoid bumping into a tree while skiing.

Marie loves hearing from her readers and always answers all of her email personally. Please visit www.marieastor.com to join Marie’s mailing list for updates on contests and new book releases or drop her a line at marie.astor@yahoo.com.

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Featured Author: Kate Bishop

Breathe is a romantic comedy published by Diversion Books and written by Kate Bishop, who actually isn't one person, but the pen name for three authors who have combined their collective strengths to write as one. See "Kate's" guest post below for a more in-depth explanation of who Kate Bishop is. Thanks to Chick Lit Plus Blog Tours for bringing Kate by today.

About the author:

Kate Bishop is the collective spirit of three friends with a shared passion for writing, yoga and a good, old-fashioned (or New Age) love story. Breathe was inspired by their experiences both on and off the mat and was born of a genuine desire to throw some love, light and laughter into the mix.

Kristin Tone graduated from Bowdoin College with a B.A. in Psychology and received an M.A. in Education from Lesley University. A yoga teacher and an educator, she currently teaches at PS1 Pluralistic School in Santa Monica, California.

Talie Kattwinkel earned a degree in Women’s Studies and Creative Writing from the University of Arizona. She currently specializes in bodywork and healing.

Bridget Evans attended the University of Maryland where she studied education. She taught in the Marin County school system for ten years and co-created OUTWORD, an outdoor writing program for children. She is also a yoga teacher. All three women are mothers to small children.

About the book:

Alex thought she had married the man of her dreams: successful, gorgeous, and delighted by her small-town charm. When he walks out six months later, proclaiming to have 'found himself' (with the help of a stunning yoga teacher), she 'finds herself' alone in an unfamiliar city, vengefully drinking through his prized wine collection, living on takeout, and refusing to answer the door. When this fails to cure her broken heart and bruised ego, she reluctantly allows her new friends to intervene. Slowly, Alex learns to define success on her own terms; she discovers the secret to love in all its forms, and the perfect flying crow pose, one breath at a time.

Interview with Kate Bishop:

I'm guessing the title Breathe has to do with more than just yoga. How did you come up with it?

Our agents actually came up with the title. We knew we wanted something short, simple and fun. It was Yogalicious for a while, then Yogarilla. After trying on many other titles, we all agreed Breathe best captured the essence of the book. Although yoga is a part of Alex’s journey, the book is about personal transformation and love. We were afraid the other titles might alienate those who don’t identify with yoga. Alex certainly wouldn’t have read it.

How did you create the plot for Breathe?

We knew we wanted to write a romantic comedy with yoga as the backdrop. As three writers/friends, we talked often about our aspirations and creative pursuits. At some point, we realized we had a collective story to tell. We began to meet at coffee shops in the early morning and late in the evening, as we had jobs and kids that filled daytime hours. We shared observations of transformation in ourselves and our students. We shared our love stories and our heartbreaks, uncovering common threads. Breathe took shape one chapter a time, one cup of coffee at a time.

Do you all outline, write by the seat of your pants, or let your characters tell you what to write?

A little of each. We began with a rough idea of where we were headed, but our characters dictated much of the journey. We heeded Steph Cocker’s wise words, “If blown off course, simply change your destination.” We were often surprised by where we found ourselves.

Sophie’s choice: Do you have a favorite of your characters?

We love Andy. We created him to love and be loved.

Where do your characters' names come from?

It’s an intuitive process. Names just sort of materialize, and we sit with them for a while. Most often, they’re spot on. Occasionally, we inadvertently chose the name of a person in one of our lives and were forced to grapple with a new one. When this occurred, we did an Internet search, found an extensive list of names and tried them on the character one at a time - until we were all satisfied. It took awhile.

Are any of your characters inspired by real people? Who?

All of our characters have pieces of each of us and people we have met along the way. No character is based on any one person. Tripp was a compilation of all of our dating errors. Andy was the sum of everything we’ve loved in men. Everyone has encountered a Haley at some point. And Nancy is the woman who we all hope to become. She wears life like a loose, designer shirt.

Are any of you like your characters?

We all really identified with our protagonist, Alex: her humanity, her judgment, her earnest attempt to rise above it and her many stumbling blocks along the way.

Who are your favorite authors?

Anne Lamott, Barbara Kingsolver, Suzanne Collins, Emily Bronte, Jeffrey Eugenides, Sena J. Naslund, Stephanie Meyer, Wally Lamb, Brene Brown.

What book are you all currently reading and in what format?

The Language of Flowers, Vanessa Diffenbaugh (e-book)

Catching Fire, Suzanne Collins (paper)

Lean In, Sheryl Sandberg (e-book)

How do you handle criticism of your work?

Of course it stings, but we know we can’t expect everyone to love the book. We have received such positive feedback that the few negative responses are cushioned. We are so grateful for all the support and encouragement and, to be honest, the negative reviews seem to have taken some effort and a very thorough read. Passion over indifference is always favorable, right?

Where and when do you prefer to do your writing?

As a trio with small children and jobs, most writing happens when the world is asleep. We write between the hours of 9pm and 5am. We love those quiet hours.

So I'm guessing you all don't sleep. Yikes. What’s one of your favorite quotes?

“So we show up. Burn brightly in the moment. Live passionately. Hold nothing back. And when the moment is over and the work is done we step back and let go.” -Rolf Gates

What are you working on now?

Alex and Andy, Part 2

Guest post:

As three authors, our writing process can be difficult to distill for people. Much of it is organic and we often attribute our success (the ability to write a book as a composite) to chemistry. We, the Kate Bishop three or KBT, are very close and were friends before writing Breathe. We each have very personal and sometimes divergent relationships with writing and our styles reflect this. One of us is the visionary, bringing idea after idea to the writing table. One of us feverishly stitches the story together. And one of us is a wordsmith, deliberate, attending to details, grammar and flow. We’ve likened our journey to the crafting of a garment or the building of a house. The designer, the seamstress, and the quality control supervisor. 

What was interesting was that we began rigid in our roles, but as the book materialized, we each found ourselves assuming new positions. Flowing from one to the next. We resisted any tendency to be territorial, as we knew, in order to succeed, we needed to trust each other and the process. We respect one another deeply as people and as writers, and we returned to this again and again.

Our over-arching goal was to create a book that was fun and light, yet addressed the deeper conflicts we encounter in love and life. Beginning with a rough map of where we were headed, we each wrote a chapter in sequence, never writing two in a row in order avoid the dominance of one voice. We then rewrote each other’s chapters- many times- allowing the voice of three to become one. On conference calls from Concord, Bend, and LA, we read aloud night after night until each sentence felt right to us all. It took patience.

A successful novelist once explained that writing novels can be a lonely road to travel. This was not our experience. We are so grateful to have had each other to laugh, scream, and forgive along the way.

So the process was, in essence, a culmination of what we have learned through yoga thus far. Trust, be open, quiet the ego, love, and believe in abundance.

Excerpt from Breathe:

“Alex, I’m leaving.”

I gagged on a wisp of highlighted hair that had sprung from the towel and stuck to my lip balm. Tripp liked my hair blonde. I’d had it done that day.

“What?” I sputtered.

“I’ll let you take a minute.” He turned and walked into the bathroom.

I followed him, stumbling over a pile by the door: boots, corset, thigh highs . . .
“What do you mean ‘you’re leaving’?”

Tripp turned from the mirror where he was preparing to shave as if nothing had happened.

As he stared at me, I felt like one-eared Billy at a dog show. Flawed. Judged.

“Stop looking at me like that! You can’t tell me it’s over and then look at me like that!” I yelled. He smiled mildly.

“Alex, you need to connect to your Truth. I can’t tell you how. That’s your journey. I can only tell you that I can’t follow this path with you anymore. My truth isn’t here. I found my Authentic Self.”

I was beyond insulted. It was one thing to hear this stuff from my mother who, if nothing else, lived her mundane ‘truth’ day after day, but not from a man who has eight sets of identical platinum cufflinks.

“You found what, where?”

“My Truth is in Atlanta, Alex. I found a place where my spirit can truly soar.” He started shaving.

The light bulb went on, and with the flip of a switch, I went from pissed to full on enraged.

“Wait a minute—your piece of ass is in Atlanta! Let’s not get confused here. Would your ‘Truth’ happen to be a contortionist with perfect boobs? Holy shit, Tripp, are you sleeping with—with Lauren—Lauren—” I spun around, looking for the magazine.

“This isn’t about sex, Alex. Lauren and I are united at a soul level, which I don’t expect you to understand. We’ve traveled through many lifetimes together.” He put the razor down and rubbed his smooth jaw line.

“What? Are you talking past lives with me, Tripp? Six months ago, you believed ‘God’ was a nickname for Microsoft. Can you please speak the actual truth here?”

“Like I said, I don’t expect you to understand. I found my path. Yoga has taken me to my true self, my higher self. None of this stuff really matters.” He was looking at himself in the mirror. “Lauren has been my guide.”

I looked at him in cross-eyed disbelief, then ran to grab the Yoga Journal. Panting, I returned to the bathroom, opened to the dog-eared page, and shoved it in his face.

“This woman opened your soul with some . . . ” I pulled the magazine back, furiously scanning the article. “Lavender and eucalyptus?” I was seething. “Seriously?”

I threw the magazine at his face and missed. It hit his chest pathetically and flopped to the floor. He stepped over it and went back to the bedroom, slid into his jeans commando-style, and picked up his suitcase, still packed.

“Alex, I’m sorry it has to be this way, but there is no talking to you about this.”

No talking to me?

“How are we supposed to talk when you are never here?” I cried.

“This was a mistake, and I haven’t known how to tell you. I’m leaving, Alex.”

I ran down the hall after him, caught my robe on a drawer pull, and lost the entire thing. Who makes robes out of cashmere anyway? When I finally wrestled it back on and reached the door, Tripp’s black Range Rover was sailing down the street, a large sticker on the rear window proclaiming, “Namaste.”


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