1. What inspired you to write Eryn's character?
Eryn walked on the set and just owned my laptop the way most of my characters seem to. They have likes and hates, loves and losses, agendas and secrets. Sure, I discover things about them on the way…but how do they appear in the first place? (shrugs) I dunno. But I’d say Eryn appeared as a part of my obsession with Buffy and loving a story with a strong female lead character. Joss Whedon ROCKS!
2. What was the first book you read that made you fall in love with reading (past or present writer)?
Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery. A Canadian classic and a strong female character.
3. What paranormal author are you currently addicted to?
I adore Christopher Moore. He’s got just my kind of humour, gore, and quirky characters. I read his stuff and instantly want to write more and aspire to his level of greatness. Check out his site: http://www.chrismoore.com/
4. What band or artist currently tops your play list?
Here are few of my current favs:
“Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves” – Cher
“The Ghost Who Walks” – Karen Elson
“The End” – Allison Weiss
“I Only Want To Be With You” – Bay City Rollers
“Out of Our Minds” – Melissa Auf der Maur
“Magic” - Pilot
5. Do you have any projects you are currently working on that you are able to share? And can you give us a little teaser?
Here’s a smidge from the next book in the Skinned series, Second Skin:
The cool night air ghosted my breath as I tore through the trees, dodging their heavy, snow-covered branches. I leapt over the randomly placed tombstones scattered throughout Crimson Cemetery like a pro whipping through a round of mini-golf. It sucked that I was becoming familiar enough with the cemetery’s terrain to charge forward on automatic. That I was doing so for the third night that week was just plain irksome.
The hair on the back of my neck trembled. Not a good sign. I inhaled sharply, the pungent scent of hungry, drooling werewolf drifted on the breeze. I was heading right into its path.
It seemed I was always running straight toward the stuff any normal person would be running from, screaming their heads off. But then I wasn’t normal. I wasn’t really a person either if you wanted to get picky about the details. I shot a look up at the starry sky, tracking the dark form that dipped and swooped over the graveyard like some ginormous half-baked prehistoric bat. In her dark sprite form, my best friend’s wings sliced through the trees, causing mini-snowstorms to dump down on me with each impact.
My thighs worked harder as I bolted up hill, keen to take the advantage of the higher ground. Brit was closer now. Reachable. Physically at least. I knew she was hurting, no one doubted that. She wore her feelings like a shroud, blocking us out. She wouldn’t even talk about it to Matt, her boyfriend. But going all clammy wasn’t the extent of the problem.
On a nightly basis, Brit drowned her sorrows in her mother’s liquor cabinet. She was out of control, self-destructing.
Unfortunately, a lot of her pain came down to choices I made.
“We don’t have to do this tonight,” I called as I sprang into the air, swiping at the jean-clad legs hovering five feet above me. “Let’s just rent a tear-jerker and bawl our eyes out. We’ll both feel better.”
“Leave me ’lone!” Brit glared down at me, though her eyes were slightly unfocused. Her long black hair whipped around her, twitching like the tails of hundreds of angry cats. “I’m just goin’ for a walk.”
Still running at top speed while Brit flew above me, I had to laugh at her interpretation of walk.
“I hate to shatter the illusion,” I told her, “but this ain’t your average evening constitutional.” I leapt up again. Once. Twice.
“Stop that!” Brit’s expression changed from rage to shock. “What are you doing?”
“Friends don’t let friend fly drunk,” I shouted. I gripped a hand around her calf and hung on for dear life. Brit dipped at the change in weight, then surged upward and banked hard all at the same time, pinwheeling us in space.
I looked down.
I shouldn’t have.
We’d cleared the hill and were now soaring twenty feet over the graveyard. My stomach rolled. Werewolves, vampires, and other beasties I could handle, but heights? Not so much.
HOW THE TOUR WORKS:
Each day of The Crossroads Tour, a new research question will be revealed on The Crossroad Blog Tour main page, and each day the answer to that question will be found within one of the 16 different blog posts by Crossroads Tour authors. Your job is to get the question, read the blog posts, and collect all 16 answers by the end of the tour, on Halloween.