Interview with Tiffany Shand

As promised in my last post, I’ve scored an interview with Tiffany Shand, author of Denai Touch, her debut novel. And here it is:

Book Cover

CC: Hi Tiffany! Welcome and congratulations on your debut novel.

TS: Hi Carlie, thanks for having me. Don’t mind the mad cats jumping around!

CC: That’s no problem. They’re really cute.

Let’s start you off on an easy one – can you tell us a bit about Denai Touch?

TS: It’s about a witch named Cate McCray, who is prophesied to defeat a terrorist organisation named the Covenant. The story mainly focuses on her relationship with her partner Jason and how they fight to stop the Covenant before it’s too late.

CC: What made you choose witches as your theme?

TS: I’ve always loved witches. I thought it would be nice to betray them in a different way rather than hooked nosed hags. My witches are sexy and bad arse!

CC: Why did you pick this genre?

TS: I got bored of contemporary fiction in my teens and that’s when I first discovered my love of paranormal romance/fantasy and knew they were the kind of genres that I wanted to write in.

CC: What was the hardest thing about writing the book?

TS: The hardest thing for me was probably motivation. When I get to the middle of a story I sometimes get a bit bored and really have to motivate myself to finish it.

CC: What was the easiest part of the whole process for you?

TS: Writing the book was probably the easiest thing. The hardest thing was the lead up to the publishing process. Editing took over a year which I was not happy about and did wonder if it would ever end. It was a big letdown.

But despite the bad things that happened I have learnt a lot during this process and know I won’t make the same mistakes with my next book.

CC: I know from experience that a part of the author somehow ends up in the persona of one of the characters. Which of the characters is most like you and why?

TS: That’s a tough question! But probably Cate, she’s a strong woman and I think that strength helped her get through some of the hard times she’s had and I can relate to that in some ways. She’s tough, feisty and sometimes outspoken – which I don’t think I am, but she also has a vulnerable side. We also both have a car named Ruby!

CC: Do you have a particular writing routine?

TS: I usually tend to do other things done in the morning and then write during the afternoon – if my laptop isn’t jumped upon by my two cats! Or I usually spend half an hour removing cat hair from my keyboard.

CC: What can we expect to see next from you?

TS: I’ve almost finished my second novel, Denai Bound which I’m hoping to publish later this year. They are going to be part of a series and I also have a spin off series in the works.

CC: Now for a few fun ones to finish with:

Tea or coffee?

TS: Definitely tea.

CC: Spring or autumn?

TS: Spring.

CC: Sandals or barefoot?

TS: Sandals.

CC: Cocktails or shots?

TS: Neither, I don’t drink.

CC: Green or Purple?

TS: Purple.

CC: Silver or gold?

TS: Silver.

CC: Thanks very much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk to me today, Tiffany. I wish you every success with Denai Touch.

TS: Thanks Carlie!

Well, I hope you enjoyed that and getting to know Tiffany a little better. If you’re intrigued about her book, check it out on Amazon by clicking here.

 

 

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FIREBALLS & MAGIC

In my last post, I promised you would hear more about Tiffany Shand and her new novel Denai Touch. Well, today I have a treat for you – an exclusive excerpt from the novel. Tiffany has been kind enough (once I twisted her arm a little) to let me post this on here for you. This is taken from the first chapter in the book. Enjoy!

Book Cover

The small seven pointed star around Cate’s neck showed she was a Denai witch. Denais were different to others; they were immortal witches. They had the power to read people’s thoughts and emotions. Some Denais chose to become Enforcers, the police of Magickind who enforced the laws of the United Magickind Council. It was their job to protect the innocent and punish the guilty, ensuring justice was always served.

The rogue coven’s High Priestess was a tall brunette with pitch black eyes that glowed red just before she raised a hand and hurled a fireball at them.

Crap! Cate thought, raising her hand to deflect it using her kinetic powers. Gold light shimmered around Jade’s body as she shifted into a red wolf, and launched herself at the nearest witch, knocking her to the ground. Cate flung out her arm, using her energy to hurl all of them out of the circle. They were stunned for barely a few moments before starting to throw rounds of fireballs.

Double crap!

She raised her gun and sent out a stream of blue energy, stunning the nearest witch, who immediately slumped to the ground unconscious. There were loud booming noises as the fireballs exploded on earth and tombstones; the witches ducked for cover as their magic rebounded on them.

Has this piqued your interest? If you love books about witches, give this a try. You won’t be sorry. Plus, this is the first book in a series so there’s plenty more to come. You’ll find out more of what I think when I post my review, of course.

TTFN

BUY LINK:

http://hyperurl.co/DenaiTouch

 

 

The Hunger – Flash Fiction by Shaun Allan

I’m so chuffed to welcome by friend and ‘stable mate’ Shaun Allan to the blog today. He’s written a fabulous flash fiction piece and although it’s the last day of the Heart Search Blog Tour, it’s also All Hallow’s Eve. So what better way to celebrate than by having a scary story to sink your teeth into?

The Hunger

I heard the sound, loud in the still of the night.

Well, it wasn’t exactly still…  Cars went by, people huddled down against the cold, lights were on in houses and shops were closing up for the day.  Shutters were pulling down, the windows’ eyelids closing for their night-time slumber.

In winter, when your breath takes form and your hands battle your money for dominion in your pockets, the night takes over from the day at a time just when everyone actually needs it.  To walk from work or school.  To drive home.  To feel safe.

But, though that world was spinning down to rest, the cold made the air crisp and clear.

And sound travelled on it like a surfer on a wave.

It was… odd.

You know when you recognise a voice, but can’t place whose it is?  It was like that, except no-one spoke.  It was more than simply a random noise, slipped from the dark.  It had substance.  Ownership.

But… I couldn’t place it.  It was, in fact, out of place.  Unusual in that you wouldn’t and shouldn’t hear it whilst walking down a street in the evening.

It was… eating.  Crunching with a side order of slurping.

I stopped.  I was the only one.  Other pedestrians went on the way, some alone, some in couples or groups.  One or two looked at me as if I was a mad for stopping so randomly.  As if I’d insulted them by daring to waver in my walking.  They continued on their way, however.  Unheeding and unhearing.

The alleyway sucked the light from the atmosphere, hungrily devouring it, seemingly gaining sustenance from the illumination – a deeper darkness in contrast to the glow of the streetlights.  It felt heavy.  It felt, somehow, material.

The sounds of hunger were not coming from the night, however.  Thankfully.  Well, I suppose ‘thankfully’.  They were coming from further in.  Further back.

They would be, naturally.

I should leave it.  It’s a dog.  A cat.  Maybe a lion, for all I knew, escaped from a travelling circus.

No, it was none of these.  Not even the lion.  It wasn’t so random.  It didn’t feel like an animal.

Perhaps some homeless man huddled in the shadows, hiding from the cold and the world.  If so, I’d offer a few coins and be on my way.  The mist of our combined breaths would mingle, akin to a shake of the hand as I did my good deed and felt a little saintlier.

In for a few coins, in for a pound of flesh…

I pulled my hands from my pockets, where they’d been duelling with a couple of fifty pence pieces, with a two pound coin being the referee.  All the better to defend myself, my dear.  Just in case, you know?

The cold air nibbled at my fingers like tiny Piranhas and I wanted to shove them back into my jeans.  I didn’t, though.  Nor did I carry on walking.  I was being drawn in, my curiosity overpowering my reason with a face-hugging pillow.

I waded through the cloying darkness, the sounds of feasting making my own stomach grumble in sympathy.  My eyes adjusted quickly as I walked, enough that I could avoid the empty beer cans and puddles of what I assumed wasn’t simply water.

There was a big bin.  A general waste container for the businesses around.  Practically the size of a skip, with bulging black bags piled around it, the bin watched me as I approached.  I felt it judging me.

“Idiot,” it was thinking.

I tended to agree, but I couldn’t stop my feet as their steps carried me on.

Then, I saw.

On the floor, a woman.  Or what was left of one.  The darkness deemed the scene worthy of allowing some moonlight in.  I could see her long hair.  I could see the swell of a breast beneath her coat and a heel, snapped from the sole of the shoe she was wearing, hanging loosely.

I could see a pool of blood spreading, reaching towards me, beseeching me to save her.  Too late.  I could tell.  The gaping hole at her waist was proof enough.

That was the sound.  That was what was being eaten.

The figure bent over her, crouching, heard my gasp before I’d realised I’d uttered one.  It stood quickly and turned to me, blood smeared across its face.

I always thought they were just in the movies.  Along with vampires and werewolves and witches.  I always thought they were something to shoot in the games on my phone.

They’re not.

I always thought they’d have dead eyes, too.  Their brain would have rotted away taking all but the need to eat the living along with it.

That’s what I thought.

I was wrong.

They’re not just in the movies.

And their eyes aren’t dead.  They have a fire in them.  An intent.  A hunger.

The zombie lunged.

I don’t know about any of you, but I’m going to steer well clear of alleys today! Thank you so much for sharing that with us today, Shaun.

Stay safe during Samhain and don’t become monster chow or vampire fodder!

* * *

Shaun Allan

A creator of many prize winning short stories and poems, Shaun Allan has written for more years than he would perhaps care to remember. Having once run an online poetry and prose magazine, he has appeared on Sky television to debate, against a major literary agent, the pros and cons of internet publishing as opposed to the more traditional method. Many of his personal experiences and memories are woven into the point of view and sense of humour of Sin, the main character in his best-selling novel of the same name, although he can’t, at this point, teleport.

A writer of multiple genres, including horror, humour and children’s fiction, Shaun goes where the Muse takes him – even if that is kicking and screaming.

Shaun lives with his wife, daughters, cats and fish. Oh and a manic dog. Though his life might, at times, seem crazy, he is not.

Honest.

Sin is now published by Fantasy Island Book Publishing and is available in print and as an ebook!Dark Places is now published under Myrddin Publishing Group and is available as an ebook. Print version coming soon!