I am thrilled to have author Darynda Jones here today for her Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet book tour!
1.
Tell us 2 things about
yourself that no one knows about you?
Ack!
Um, okay, well not many people know that I was in Tae Kwon Do in high school,
but I only got as far as my blue belt. And I don’t think many people know that
chocolate made me deathly ill growing up, but now I can hardly live without it.
I know, weird.
2. Can you tell us about
your challenges in getting your first book published?
Sure!
They are pretty much the same as other writers’. I wrote a manuscript and sent
it out to every agent under the sun only to receive rejections from every agent
under the sun. So I wrote another manuscript, a YA, but didn’t really do much
with that one. (It has since sold and came out in October.) Then I wrote First
Grave on the Right. I entered it in the RWA Golden Heart, which is a very
prestigious contest for unpublished writers, but I only entered it to force
myself to finish the manuscript that sat on my desk half-completed for two
years. The deadline drew near, so I hurried up and finished the last half in
two weeks, sent it in and promptly forgot all about it. Imagine my surprise
when it finaled. No, really. I was stunned.
The
GH final forced me to kick it into high gear. I figured if I didn’t take
advantage of that situation, I was a fool, so I polished the manuscript and
queried agents. Long story short, within a couple of weeks (and after years of countless
rejections), I had eight offers of representation from some of the most amazing
agents in the biz. It was ridiculously stressful. I had dream agents knocking
on my door (metaphorically). Choosing between them was one of the hardest
things I’ve ever had to do in my life, but I have to admit, I am in love with
the agent I chose, Alexandra Machinist. She is like a nuclear powerhouse. I got
to meet her face-to-face at the RWA National Conference where First Grave won
the Golden Heart for Best Paranormal Romance Manuscript. Yep, stunned again.
After
the win, we had editors requesting the manuscript, so my agent sent it out
before we’d planned to and within a week we had our first offer. After a few
more houses offered, we decided to accept a preempt from my amazing editor,
Jennifer Enderlin from St. Martin’s Press, and I couldn't be happier. Jen and
everyone at SMP are amazing to work with. I highly recommend getting published
with them. :)
But
again, the challenges I faced were the same ones all writers face. How does one
get an agent to notice her work? How does one go from the slush pile to
published? Every writer’s journey to publication is a little different, but I
hope mine will inspire. It took me 7 years of writing seriously toward
publication to get published. Don’t give up, but at the same time, don’t be a
stubborn mule. Learn the craft. Hone your skills. And realize this is a
business. Rejection is nothing personal. Keep striving to do better and
persevere.
3. Which character speaks
the loudest, to you? Do any of them clamor to be heard over the others?
Charley.
Definitely Charley. I swear I channel her at times. She is such a fun character
to write. When I am writing a Grave book, it’s like visiting an old friend.
4. What is best writing
advice you can give?
As
we say in the publishing world, finish the d*#m book. You can’t sell a
half-finished book, so do anything and everything to get the book finished. And
read! Never, ever, ever stop reading.
5. What environment you
write in. Do you use a pen and paper, laptop? Quiet room or music?
I
have a gorgeous office in which I could live out my days a happy camper. I
write on an iMac that I am furiously in love with, but I also have a MacBook
Air for travel that I love almost as much. And I write in utter silence. There
is so much going on in my head, music only adds to the chaos.
6. Is there anything that
you would like to say to your readers?
THAAAAAAANK
YOOOOOOU!!! That is all.
No,
really, readers have made all my dreams come true. How does one person thank
another for her livelihood? For her dreams realized? So yeah, just thank you
from the bottom of my heart.
Thank you so much for
having me!!! ~D~
The fourth in this fun and sexy "New York Times" bestselling paranormal series: "If you enjoy Evanovich's Stephanie Plum, you will certainly enjoy Charley Davidson!" --"Suspense Magazine"In Darynda Jones's "Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet," sometimes being the grim reaper really is that. Grim. And since Charley's last case went so awry, she has taken a couple months off to wallow in the wonders of self-pity. But when a woman shows up on her doorstep convinced someone is trying to kill her, Charley has to force herself to rise above. Or at least get dressed. She quickly realizes something is amiss when everyone the woman knows swears she's insane. The more they refute the woman's story, the more Charley believes it. In the meantime, the sexy, sultry son of Satan, Reyes Farrow, has been cleared of all charges. He is out of prison and out of Charley's life, as per her wishes and several perfectly timed death threats. But his absence has put a serious crimp in her sex life. While there are other things to consider, like the fact that the city of Albuquerque has been taken hostage by an arsonist, Charley is having a difficult time staying away. Especially when it looks like Reyes may be involved. Just when life was returning to normal, Charley is thrust back into the world of crime, punishment, and the devil in blue jeans.
Excerpt:
With
renewed energy, I pulled back onto Academy— after hitting a
drive- through for a mocha latte—
and had just started for home when
my phone rang.
“Yes?” I
said, illegally talking on the phone while driving within the
city limits. Scoping for cops, I
waited for Uncle Bob to stop talking to
whomever he was talking to and get
back to me.
My uncle
Bob, or Ubie as I most often referred to him, was a detective
for APD, and I helped him on cases
from time to time. He knew I
could see the departed and used
that to his advantage. Not that I could
blame him.
“Get that
to her, then call the ME ay- sap.”
“Okay,” I
said, “but I’m not sure what calling the medical examiner
ay- sap is going to accomplish.
I’m pretty sure his name is George.”
“Oh, hey,
Charley.”
“Hey, Uncle
Bob. What’s up?”
“Are you
driving?”
“No.”
“Have you
heard anything?”
Our
conversations often went like this. Uncle Bob with his random
questions. Me with my trying to
come up with answers just as random.
Not that I had to try very hard.
“I heard that Tiff any Gorham, a girl I
knew in grade school, still stuff
s her bra. But that’s just a rumor.”
“About the
case,” he said through clenched teeth. I could tell his teeth
were clenched because his words
were suddenly forced. That meant he
was frustrated. Too bad I had no
idea what he was talking about.
“I wasn’t
aware that we had a case.”
“Oh, didn’t
Cookie call you?”
“She called
me a doody- head once.”
“About the
case.” His teeth were totally clenched again.
“We have a
case?”
But I’d
lost him. He was talking to another officer. Or a detective. Or
a hooker, depending on his
location and accessibility to cash. Though I
doubted he would tell a hooker to
check the status of the DOA’s autopsy
report. Unless he was way kinkier
than I’d ever given him credit for.
I found his calling me only to
talk to other people very challenging.
“I’ll call
you right back,” he said. No idea to whom.
The call
disconnected as I sat at a light, wondering what guacamole
would look like if avocados were orange.
I finally
shifted my attention to the dead kid in my backseat. He had
shoulder- length blond hair and
bright blue eyes and looked somewhere
between fifteen and seventeen.
“You come
here often?” I asked him, but my phone rang before he
could say anything. That was okay.
He had a vacant stare, so I doubted
he would have answered me anyway.
“Sorry
about that,” Uncle Bob said. “Do you want to discuss the
case?”
“We have a
case?” I said again, perking up.
“How are
you?”
He asked me
that every time he called now. “Peachy. Am I the case? If
so, I can solve this puppy in
about three seconds. I’m heading down San
Mateo toward Central in a cherry
red Jeep Wrangler with a questionable
exhaust system.”
“Charley.”
“Hurry,
before I get away!”
About Darynda Jones
New York Times and
USA Today Bestselling Author Darynda Jones has won numerous awards for her work
including a prestigious Golden Heart®, a RITA®, and a Daphne du Maurier. As a
born storyteller, she grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress
for any unfortunate soul who happened by, annoying man and beast
alike. Darynda lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico,
with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys.
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