Interview and GIVEAWAY with DC Stone - Feral Craving

I have the lovely DC stone pinned in my hot seat today, as I probe her with my nosy questions. 

*rubs hands in glee*

She looks worried now! Lol. Make yourself at home, DC :-)

DC is giving away a copy of Feral Craving, so do make sure you leave her a comment. Just look at that cover. How could you resist?

*reminds herself to stop drooling and ask her questions...*

Q. Can you tell us a bit about yourself?

A. Well hell, lol, myself? Sure. I’m an e-book author and full-time fraud investigator when I’m not diving into the world of Fiction.

I live in the north-east United States with my incredibly supporting husband, two kids, and the all American black Labrador puppy. Of course I’ll deny any association with the grumpy cat that also resides in the house, but he is there, never-the-less.

After serving eight years of service with the United States Air Force, I went on to transition into the world of Financial Crimes and became a lead investigator for many years.

Reading has always been a passion, getting lost in a good, steamy romance one of my favorite past times. That passion took a back seat as soon as I discovered my love for writing and recreating stories and characters. I write Romance with specifics in Paranormal, Suspense and Erotica.

How fascinating!

Q. What made you write ‘this’ story?

A. Well, I have always been a huge paranormal romance fan, but today there are so many books about werewolves and vampires.  I wanted to do something fresh for the market, give the readers something more to grab their attention. I took my love of the military, along with my day-to-day job, then mixed, blended for two minutes, and came up with this idea.

Q. Tell us about your cover.

A. Holy crow, have you seen it?  Of course you have, who hasn’t!  Sour Cherry Designs did a fabulous job with this cover.  It’s dark, sexy, and mysterious all in one.  Very much like my hero, Bari.

Oh yes, am still drooling here!

Q. Describe a typical day’s writing for us

A. In my home, nothing is ever typical.  There isn’t even a set schedule in which I can write.  I try to fit it in when I can and that usually consists of constructing scenes while the kids and dog runs in circles around me.  Other times, I try to get in time on my lunch break at work, or when everyone is in bed.  I write when the moment strikes.  That’s when I get the most out as well.

Now that sounds so familiar :-)

Q. What inspires you?

A. You know, I’ve been asked this question quite a few times, just using different words, such as what book would you read over and over again?  I have to say, what inspires me is who. Pamela Clare.  She is phenomenal with her writing and always leaves me wanting more.  I close her book and am actually sad that it’s finished, despite not being able to put it down, and then want more.  I want readers to feel that way about a piece I produce  because I think it’s the highest compliment there is.

Q. If you weren’t a writer what would you be?

A. (chuckles) Exactly what I am now.  A fraud investigator.  Solving puzzles and getting paid to be nosy is something I love.

Q. Do your characters ever surprise you?

A. Yes.  Hands down without a doubt.  Sometimes they just take on their own lives and the whole time I’m screaming at the screen, saying, “no, no, no!” But they go right on and plow through months of hard work I’ve tried to construct.

Pesky little things, these characters... Anyone would think it's their story we're telling ;-)

Q. What could not do without when you’re writing?

A. Hmmm, good question.  My laptop of course, but I’d also have to add my access to music.  It drives the scenes I develop.

Q. What words of wisdom do you have for the aspiring authors out there?

Keep trying. Don’t give up. And when you get that book contract, continue growing. An author doesn’t stop learning once they have that first novel completed, nor do they stop once it’s under contract.  The publishing world is constantly changing and that means you have stay on top of it. Remember, feedback you may get (not including your family, coworkers, and friends) isn’t intended to slam on your work, nor designed to inhibit your dreams.  It’s there to help you learn and if you should—which is most likely—come across someone who gives you a snarky response to your craft, ignore it and push on.  Tell yourself they are just jealous. (winks)

Very wise words indeed!

Q. Where do you see yourself in ten year’s time?

A. Watching my son walk across the stage for graduation and still learning about how to write.

Q. Do you have a favourite quote?

A. The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. – Eleanor Roosevelt

Q. Do you ever suffer from writer’s block?

A. Cripes!  Can I ignore this question?  Knock on wood, not yet.

Lucky!

Q. What other books can your readers look forward to?

A. Of course book 2 of the Justice Demon series will be submitted for review and hopefully published in the next few months.  Then, there is also a romantic suspense series I’ve been diving in for about a year now, called the Empire Blue series.

Q. And finally can you share an excerpt with us?

Without warning, the room started to spin; a sudden, wicked wave of dizziness assaulted him. Bari lifted a hand, reaching for the wall, and grunted through the nausea. He wobbled on his legs, tried to reboot his mind. Christ, not this shit again! He needed his head. He had to get away, but in a desert half the size of the US of A, he didn’t have any fucking options.

A sound—a whisper to his left. He snapped his head up. Nothing. Just air and trash. The whisper moved to his right, suddenly magnified. Like nails on a chalkboard. Bari whirled, lifting the pistol at his leg, his M-4 rifle now forgotten at his feet. The room spun without warning. He held the pistol in front of him, wavering, pointing at who the fuck knew and nothing all at once. He rocked back on his heels and blinked, and his vision immediately focused. His stomach still rebelled against the spinning sensation, and he breathed through the bile rising up his throat.

Bari narrowed his eyes as a shape started to form before him. Fuzzy, gray and brown colors mixed and swirled. He blinked, trying to make his eyes and mind decipher what took shape. It was huge, as big as he, but what the fuck was it? Lines of blue intermingled beneath its brown and gray spots and, as it grew clearer, he saw what he pointed his muzzle at. Adrenaline rushed him. It couldn’t be. But the image was unmistakable. He stared at the figure that stared back at him. Then, it vanished—the shadow of what he swore was himself, disappeared.

“What the hell?”

A whisper caught his attention to his left. Suddenly, he remembered where he was, then turned and lifted his SIG Sauer handgun. Tony’s eyes widened, and his hands lifted in the air, one leather-covered hand around his rifle.

“Fucking shit, Bari. It’s me.” Pushing Bari’s weapon away from him, Tony narrowed his own stormy gaze at Bari. “You tight, man?”

Bari clamped his jaw shut, not really sure how to answer.

Tony’s lips thinned, then he glanced over his shoulder and tossed his head back. “Let’s get moving.”

Tony nodded down another dark hallway. Bari shook his head, clearing it of the fear bubbling inside of him. His stomach gurgled and he swallowed, forcing the still rising bile down. Something was off, something he couldn’t quite grasp. He felt as if he had walked into a dream—ventured into a dark tunnel. But he knew better, knew that the sun shined high and bright—hot as hell, outside.

The house was filthy, filled with dilapidated couches and mounds of trash and bottles. It couldn’t have been occupied for long. Hell, the place didn’t even look livable for New York City rats. His task set on what lay ahead. Bari worked slow but efficiently cleared each room he passed. In his ear, he heard Mike and Tyler mark their rooms, bringing the four of them together once again as the halls connected. One room remained, its door closed.

They stacked up, lined up as they had outside, their weapons trained on the door, then busted inside. Bari scanned the room as he led the way, expectant and ready.

They were met with nothing. Not one damn person. Whoever had run into this house seemed to have just disappeared into thin air. Cursing, Bari dropped his guard, lowered his weapon, and paced the room. His mind scrambled over the reports they’d studied, trying to recall every detail and feeling as if he had forgotten something. All eyes of the team were on him, waiting for a decision.

With a frustrated growl, he ripped open the front of his vest and breathed deep, letting air fill his tight chest. A bunker was supposed to be here, somewhere, but they had seen no evidence of it. It was like they’d been set up to clear an empty house. None of it made a damn lick of sense.

“Shit, we should have found something here. Where in the fuck did they go?” His team answered with silence. Shaking his head, he pushed his helmet off and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

Mike pulled a piece of gum from his pocket, unwrapped and shoved it in his mouth. The sound of his chewing snapped through the room. “Yeah, Bari, this looks like a dead-end. Doesn’t make any sense.”

Grabbing his pack of smokes from his own pocket, Bari popped a cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

Needing to get some answers, Bari stepped around Tony. Adrenaline still rushed inside of him, his skin itchy with unused energy. He moved back down the hall and into the living area.

He glanced up. And time froze.

He would later tell himself he could have been faster, or ducked down. But Mike, a father with a six-year-old daughter back home, had followed behind him. So he didn’t move. Instead, he froze as the gunman stepped out from behind a door. Mike must have missed it. Fear stole up the back of his neck, the sensation reminiscent of a winding serpent. The gunman lifted his rifle. Low shouts rang out around Bari. Seconds ticked by like molasses dripping. Bari closed his eyes and braced for the pain, understanding he might not make it out alive. A shot rang out, the sound echoing through the walls. Pain exploded in his chest, his body. The cigarette he lit earlier dropped from his mouth, fell to the floor. He raised his eyes, meeting the gunman’s stare from across the room. Death sat in the man’s blank gaze, reflecting darkness, emptiness.

Bari felt consciousness slipping away. Funny how some people claim your life flashes before your eyes when you face death. Because the only thing that flashed before Bari’s was the life he never had and the woman who would’ve been in it: Mackenzie Walters.

On sale now at:

Evernight

All Romance E-Books

Amazon

Want to follow along with D.C. Stone? Need to check out what else she’s written?  Then make sure you contact her at her website at www.authordcstone.com, on Twitter at @dcstoneauthor, or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/authordcstone.

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So, there you  have it.  Thanks so much for sharing with us today, DC.  Don't forget to leave DC a comment, will you, for your  chance to get your mitts on her book.