Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Conner by Miranda Stork Giveaway, Interview & Excerpt







Conner

The Athol Trilogy

Book 1

Miranda Stork



Genre: Paranormal



Publisher: Isara Press

Date of Publication: April 19th, 2012



ISBN: 978-1482795585

ASIN: B007VZO792



Number of pages: 297

Word Count: 80,924



Cover Artist: Miranda Stork



Book Description:



Erin is a young psychologist, with no time for anything but her work, and unable to remember anything about her past. She leads an uneventful life, but a lonely one, in which she secretly wishes for a soulmate...



Conner is an unusual patient who approaches her, thrusting her into a strange world of darkness that runs beneath our own. He believes himself to be a creature of legend-a werewolf. But he also draws Erin with a roguish charm, and an irresistible feeling that seems to bind them together...



Conner desperately tries to save her from an unknown evil that pursues her with a relentless passion that crosses centuries, an evil that once took her very soul away, somewhere in Erin's lost memories.



As she becomes more entwined in a series of events that will remind her of who she really is, will she make it away from the oncoming darkness unscathed...?







Interview

Where are you from?
I’m from North Yorkshire, in England. It’s a beautiful part of the county, and the backdrop for most of my novels.
Tell us your latest news?
Hmm, let’s see…I’m working on the fourth novel in my third series of books (the ‘Grim Alliance’ series, following a group of Reapers as they collect souls and battle good and evil), and I’m also working on a historical novel at the moment.
When and why did you begin writing?
I started jotting down short stories when I was about six or seven, so I’ve always felt the need to write something. I didn’t begin professionally writing until I was about nineteen though, when I finally formed the very rough first draft of ‘Conner’, which was first published a few years ago.
When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Good question. I’ve always felt I was a ‘writer’, as I don’t think that title needs to belong to anyone doing it professionally. I think if that urge is inside you somewhere, and you want to create something on paper that didn’t exist before, then you’re a writer. J
What inspired you to write your first book?
A contest, haha! Well, not really. A friend had written a first chapter out, and challenged me to do better. So I wrote the first chapter, then the second, and I looked up once I was five chapters in. It went from there, really. It was an idea that had floated around my head for a while, but I was too busy with jobs and life at the time to think about placing it down in written form.
Do you have a specific writing style?
I don’t think I did at first, but now I’m starting to get the feel of how I write. I prefer to have a build-up of an intro, and introduce the story slowly, so it can be savoured. I know some people have said they don’t like how slow it can be in my books, but I think I’ve picked it up from the sort of books I enjoy – which tend to be classics and thriller heavy. I’ve tried changing it (and I think the beauty of writing is that you always pick up new things and improve on what you wrote before), but it never flows as well for me, and actually makes my writing worse. It’s tricky, but there’s maybe a point where writing is improved, and other parts are simply a ‘style’. J
How did you come up with the title?
The book revolves around the characters, and the world around them is shaped to their actions, so it made sense to name each book in the trilogy after the major character. So ‘Conner’ was the natural choices for the first book (and ‘Erin’ and ‘Filtiarn’ for the two sequels).
Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
Mostly it’s a warning about we treat nature and humanity itself. As it’s a sequential story that continues in the following two books (so they cannot really be read as standalones), it’s tricky, but there’s also a message of hope, that only becomes clear in the second and third books.
How much of the book is realistic?
Well, on the werewolf front, not much, hehe! But in terms of trying to get other things right, I tried to find as much research and evidence on which to base everything. I also always base characters on people I’ve met, so they have more of a realistic edge.
Are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?
Always. I think when something in a book is based off an actual event or person, it has a ring of truth to it that gives it more vividness.
What books have most influenced your life most?
I think most books I’ve enjoyed have influenced me in some way, but three books stick out more than any others. The first is a book by Enid Blyton, and I forget the name, but it was a collection of her short stories. They were the first books that really inspired me to create my own scribblings, as she was so imaginative, and had such a colourful way of writing. The second book would be Alice in Wonderland, and I fell instantly in love with the madness and cleverness of it the first time I ever read it. And the third was My Family and Other Animals, by Gerald Durrell. It’s an autobiography of himself and his family when they lived in Corfu, when he was a boy, and describes how he fell in love with the natural world. But the way he describes every person they met (as well as his own family members) was so alive and full of feeling that I think it’s always stayed with me – every book I write, the characters are the driving force, and that is the book where I first realized that was possible.
If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
Five, in fact (but there’s many more). In no particular order; Tara Stogner Wood, Trish Marie Dawson, Caroline F Levy, Kristie Haigwood, and Lindsay Avalon. I know these five ladies personally, and not only are they amazing authors, they’re also like the sisters I never had. We encourage each other and help each other along our writing journeys, giving advice and steering each other along. If that’s not a mentor, I don’t know what is. J
What book are you reading now?
At the moment I’m reading a book by Donna Tartt, The Little Friend. It’s a book I’ve read so much the spine is worn down, but there are some book I can’t help going back to. It’s a brilliant story, and the characters and landscapes are described so passionately that you get swept into the story along with them.
Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?
Far too many to name! I keep a look out for tons of new authors all the time, and my kindle library is full of them. If I listed everyone here, it would be a long interview, but they know who they are, as I’ve usually spoken to them on Facebook. J
What are your current projects?
At the moment, it’s the fourth novel in my ‘Grim Alliance’ series. It’s following what happen to the Reaper twins Devin and Drew when they both fall in love with the same supernatural girl…or so it would seem. *wink*
What would you like my readers to know?

Wow, big question…well, obviously, I’d love them to look up some of my books, hehe! Also, read everything. You never know what you might fall in love with. If something isn’t your genre, don’t automatically assume you’ll hate it, give it a go! I’ve found tons of new books this way, and it’s something that a lot of readers don’t feel comfortable with. Oh, and check out my books. Please. ;)

Reviewers Love Conner



"5 stars! One of the best novels I have read all year!" --Nicole Hill, Author of Legacy Forgotten, 5 Stars



"You are hooked whether you like it or not! A great read." --Maxi Shelton, Author of Sold Into Marriage, 5 Stars



"'Conner' took me on a wild, fantastic and exciting ride!" --Trish Marie Dawson, Author of 'The Station' Series, 5 Stars



"Conner is a must read for all werewolf fans. It has a fresh spin on wolves, and I thought it was great." --Fictional Candy, 4 Stars



Excerpt:

Erin tossed and turned. Her bed sheets were tussled up, one pillow lying on the floor as she shifted her limbs in anguish. She was not sleeping well tonight.

...Something raced towards her, crashing through the branches and leaves. She was sobbing and running as fast as she could, but she was cold and wet, and her feet were cut and bleeding. Her clothes hung off her, soaked until they became dead weights.

A small clearing lit with brilliant sunshine danced in front of her, teasing her with the sight. She ran towards it, trying to scream for help, but her mouth was full of cotton wool, and no sound came out.

Behind her, the breathing and snarling became louder and louder until it filled and echoed in her ears. Frantic, she looked around for somewhere to hide, but all she could see were trees—no, wait! There was a small hut!

Crying with happiness, Erin sprinted towards it, but she was knocked flying by something large and dark.

She turned to stare, and backed away in panic. An eight-foot black creature with burning amber eyes glared at her.

You must never go inside! NEVER!”




Erin shot bolt upright, cold sweat dripping from her forehead and running into her eyes. She took a deep breath shakily, and snapped her bedside light on, the reassuring light flooding her bedroom.

Oh, Erin,” she murmured to herself, wiping the sweat from her brow with a shaking hand. Glancing around her warm, safe bedroom, she relaxed and breathed in deeply. She felt stupid for taking in Conner’s stories so much. She glanced over at the clock and groaned at the early hour.

Still trembling, she slid out of bed and reached for her pink silk dressing gown. She pulled it on with a wide yawn, shaking her head to wake herself up before making her way downstairs. Her wool carpet felt rough and very real beneath her bare feet, the perfect antidote to help bring her back into the real world. Traipsing through the silent house, she pattered through into her kitchen.

Snapping the fluorescent above on, Erin waited as its humming light came to life, allowing her to see the small kitchen, blinking at the brightness. Its tiled floors and white walls stung her sleep-deprived eyes for a moment, but Erin shuffled across the tiles to open one of her maple cupboard doors, feeling her way around the kitchen table in the centre. The door squeaked in protest on its hinges as she reached inside to take out a glass. Her eyelids heavy, she paced over to her kitchen sink, and ran water into the glass. The cool water filled up with a gurgle that only made her thirstier.

A quick movement in the shadows outside of her kitchen window caught her eye, and she darted her head up for a look, scanning the blackness of her small garden. Her heart thudded into life, hammering against her ribs in a warning staccato. Squinting harder, she leaned against the glass, her breath steaming the reflective surface up. Nothing moved, not even a wind danced across the stalks of grass outside.

It must have been a cat or something,” Erin muttered to herself. She turned away from the window, scooping up her glass once more to take a sip, when she thought she heard a thump from outside again. It was quiet, so quiet she wondered if it had simply been the pipes all along. Her skin prickled as she listened intently, so intently that the next thump against her kitchen wall brought a sharp gasp from her.

Alright, what the hell is that?” Erin said aloud, more bravely than she felt. She slammed her glass down on her kitchen table, the clanging noise serving only to heighten the tension. Stories about women who lived alone and ended up as a victim raced through her brain. Shaking those thoughts from her head, she slowly made her way towards the back door. Her head ached with the pressure of her pulse against her temples as she took a deep breath and unlocked her back door, flinging it wide open. As she gazed out, her eyes adjusting to the meagre light from behind, her throat dried with panic. She didn’t expect to see anything. Maybe teenagers messing around. But not this.

Standing less than six feet away from her door was a large, black wolf-like creature. It stood on four paws, but two glaring eyes focussed on Erin, very human and aware. It rose up slowly onto its back feet as it continued to stare at Erin, daring her to defy it standing there and dismiss it as shadows.

Erin froze for a second, the blood draining from her body in an icy rush. The wind blew between her and the creature chillingly, echoing the dream-like state she felt. Her tongue was dry and swollen—even if she had tried to call for help, her throat would never have formed the words. The creature moved a fraction forwards, and her sense of self-preservation snapped back into life as she moved, swiftly slamming the door shut. She fumbled hurriedly with her lock, and stepped backwards towards the hallway, switching the fluorescent off by accident as her hand slid along the wall. She tripped over a chair leg, unable to see in the dark, and cried out as she hit the hard floor.

Shaking and winded, she crawled backwards to the hallway, hitting the far kitchen wall instead. Sobbing noiselessly, she reached up onto the top next to her. She moved her fingers gingerly until she touched one of her kitchen knives, left on the top from when she had made her dinner. There is no way on Earth this is real. I’m still in my nightmare. I’m still in my nightmare. I’m going to wake up in a moment. Clutching the knife to her chest, she swallowed back a cry, glancing back towards the kitchen window. What if there are more of them?

Outside, she heard the creature breathing heavily, snarling and snuffling at her doorstep. Erin yanked her knees up until she was in a foetal position, tirelessly glancing between the door and the uncovered window. Hours passed, until eventually she heard the creature padding off, her head swimming with fatigue. Erin stayed up for what felt like hours, listening for the creature coming back, eventually falling into an uneasy sleep.



About the Author:


I'm Miranda Stork, and I'm addicted. Addicted to writing and reading books, anyway. And chocolate, but that's another issue - no interventions, please.



I live in the middle of a forest in North Yorkshire, spending my spare time as the wild woman of the woods, scaring small children and upsetting the sheep. On the days that I feel like being civilized, or I haven't got any unicorns to ride, I sit down and pour the tumbling thoughts in my head out onto digital paper. Mainly the thoughts and characters come out in paranormal form, with a good smattering of romance, because everyone likes a good cuddle. But you can also find strong elements of thrillers, myths, and even dystopia amongst the pages of all my novels. I've wanted to write books ever since I first realised that fairytales were not the newspapers of the fairy kingdom, but the imaginings of actual people who wanted to tell fancy made-up stories to other people. From that moment, I was hooked.



Why do I write? Good question. It might be easier to just keep the stories in my head, or even just to write them for myself. But I want to share them. There is no greater delight for a writer than when a reader devours your book, and declares, "Something in that novel resonated with me. And I want MORE." So grab your lucky clover and a baseball bat (there's some nasty paranormal creatures where we're going), eat the cookie with 'eat me' tagged on it, and enter through the tiny door into the world of Miranda Stork...











Tour giveaway 5 audiobooks, to be downloaded from Audible.co.uk or Audible.com (winner will be given a coupon with the necessary code for downloading a free copy).

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