Meet Kathy of Wolf’s Paradox

Yesterday, Melissa Fox and I hosted Margaret Taylor on Fight for Your Write, and she was so funny and charming that I asked her to appear here on the site today. Because she’s amazing, she agreed. Margaret did something a little different and let her main character do the talking. So, I’ll shut up and let these ladies speak.

***

So, I wasn’t sure what I would do today on Jen’s blog.

I was going to do a character interview, then I thought about doing the standard “How-Do-I” post, but frankly those have been overdone.  I also considered doing a “Let’s-Get-To-Know-The-Author”, but again, those are becoming the norm I think.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that you’d want to get to know me.  I do.  No, really, I wouldn’t kid about something like that.  But the truth is, I’m actually quite boring.  Really, I am.

I’m just your average girl, in an unusual situation.  A really, unusual situation.

Let me explain.

My name is Kathy, Kathy Granite.  Yes, like the stone.

And about six years ago, I had this weird dream.  I mean, really weird.  You know the kind I’m talking about?  The ones that are so vivid, you’ll swear on a stack of bibles six feet high, until your dying day that you were there.  In that other place and not just in the dream.  Yeah, I see you nodding over there, so you know what I’m talking about!

Anyway, the only thing I can remember about it was a Wolf.  A gorgeous Wolf too.  He was pitch black with sparkling blue eyes and he stole my heart from the moment I saw him.

Now, when I woke up, I didn’t remember anything else.  I still can’t, to this day!  And I want to.  I do.  Actually, I need too, because it’ll help solve the current crisis I’m in.  But, I can’t.  And big Wolf over there isn’t telling me either.

Oh, did I forget to introduce the hot hunk of man flesh glowering behind me?  Sorry.

Ladies, that’s Ronon Wulfdrak.  He’s the Sheriff of Jensen, South Dakota and a pain in my As…— Sorry, I don’t mean to curse, I really don’t.  But he just drives me…

Never mind.

Ronon, say Hi.

*grunt*

*sighs* See what I mean? But, he’s really a decent sort.  No, truly, he is.  When he’s not growling, grunting or just being generally irritable, I’ve heard he can actually smile!  Not that I would know, mind you.

I smile quite frequently thank you.  When you’re not getting yourself shot, stabbed, or otherwise tortured by Demons!

Ignore him please.

Anyway, where was I?  Oh, yes, the dream.  Well, that night my life really began.  Because when I woke up, tall, dark, sexy and growling over there was sitting next to me on the bed.  In the flesh!  Human flesh even and not as the Wolf I’d met in my dream!

Talk about a shocker…

But, that night spun my world on its head and now, here I am, taking a moment from trying to save the world to make a guest appearance on Jen’s site.

So, that’s my story, sort of.  There’s a lot more to it, I promise you.  I’ve been working really hard – when we’re not running from Demons and all manner of things that goes bump in the night – to get it down on paper.  However, when most of the Underworld is trying to kill you, it’s kind of hard to take time and write it all out, ya know?

And, since I’ve got to run, I’ll add in just a bit more of it below.  Just to give you some sort of idea what I’m up against…

***

{Pasted from my personal files…}

Chapter One

 

“It’s my turn!”

“No, it’s mine!”

“Now, wait just a minute.  You both said I could have her today…”

My fingers stopped on the keys and I spun my chair around glaring death rays at the three men standing behind me.  “Enough!?!”  I sighed and dropped my chin to my chest.  “I mean seriously, didn’t we work this out yesterday?”

They actually had the nerve to look shocked.

The first to respond was Tonthor.  The tall Elf blinked his shockingly light-green eyes at me and sniffed haughtily, fisting his long-fingered hands on his hips.  “Now, see here.  There is no need to be snippy.  We were just discussing…”

I held up a finger.  “No, you were arguing.”  I looked at the other two, lifting an eyebrow.  “Weren’t you?”

Cale, the half-dragon I’d met the day before blew smoke out of his nostrils.

Unfazed, I waved to dissipate the cloud.  “Weren’t you?” I said again.

Niro, one of my more frequent visitors, tried to sound appeasing.  He gave me a dashing smile, pointed teeth glittering in the morning light streaming through my floor to ceiling windows.  “Now, now Kathy, we didn’t mean anything by it.  We, just…”

I crossed my arms.  “You were just about to come to blows over who would get to talk first!  Now, I told you all how this works, didn’t I?”

“You did,” They chorused.

I tapped my foot against the faded carpet under my chair.  “Good.  And, what are the rules again?”

They spoke in unison.  “Never interrupt, never badger and never, under any circumstances, raise your voice to gain attention.”

I smiled.  “Excellent!  Now, can I get back to work please?”

Again, the three excessively handsome men spoke in one voice.  “Yes.  We’re sorry.”

“Thank you.  Apology accepted.”  I felt the need though to soothe their egos a bit.  “Niro, why don’t you take Cale into the kitchen?  I think there might be some Venison left in the fridge.”

At the mention of food, Cale licked his lips and his onyx eyes twinkled.  There, that should help distract him from the fact I was going to work with Tonthor for a while…

Once they were gone, I smiled up at the Elf then spun back to my keyboard.  “Do you remember where we were?” I asked, pulling up the word document I needed.

His hot breath fanned across my cheek as he leaned over my shoulder.  “I think I was about to fight the Lord High-Elf for control of the Western Provence…” he said helpfully.

I snapped.  “Yes, yes, thank you.”  I curled my fingers over the keys and picked up where I’d left off.

Tonthar raised his sword, was as far as I got before he interrupted.

“You misspelled my name,” he said softly.

I ground my teeth together.  “The proofreader will catch it.”  He sniffed in my ear and I paused to glare at him again.  “Rule one.”

He shrank back a bit, grimacing.  “Sorry, sorry, please do continue.”

I backspaced, just to shut him up and retyped his name. 

Tonthor raised his sword and bent his head, ready to block the incoming…

“I would never open myself like that.”

I slammed my hands on the desk, rattling books, pencils, papers and various other things I kept handy when writing.  “That’s it, out!?!?”

He straightened and crossed his arms.  “What?  I’m just trying to help, Kathy.”

I pointed toward the kitchen, where I could hear the rather noisy sounds of Cale devouring what was left of the deer I’d bought a couple of days ago.  “Out?!?”

Tonthor sniffed that haughty, Elf like sniff again and arched a perfect eyebrow at me.  “Fine,” he bit out.  “But don’t blame me when the reviews come in and they stink.”  He spun and with a rattle of chain-mail, headed off to join the other two.

Sometimes, it really sucks to be me!

I turned back to my computer, backspaced and tried it again.

Tonthor raised his sword, brow furrowed in determination…

I kept going, typing as fast as my fingers would go.  Despite the interruptions of the last ten minutes or so, I was at a crucial moment in the book and wanted to get down what Tonthor and I had discussed the night before over coffee.

You have to understand, I have a defined love/hate relationship with my current life.  I’m a writer, I’ve always been a writer.  Practically from the first time I picked up a crayon, I’ve been telling stories.  I’ve spent many years honing my craft but what I didn’t know until I was in my late 20’s was that I’m a very special writer.

Ok, hold on, I’m getting ahead of myself a bit here.  Let me just finish this off…

With one swing, he landed the death blow, forever ending the tyrannical reign of the Lord High-Elf Allu Carne Lenovo.

Alright, there.  Now I can take a minute and catch you up on how this all got started.  As I said before, I’ve always been fascinated with the written word.  Early in life, I was making up fantastical things and telling them to my friends, my family, and anyone that would listen really.

What I never said though was I could see the places I was talking about, in my head at least.  And very vividly.  From my earliest memories, I was dreaming them too.  Every night when I went to sleep, I would travel to the places I’d told people about and sometimes even take part in what was going on.

So, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when, just after my 29^th birthday, I woke one night – after a particularly vivid dream – to find the man I’d seen just moments before, sitting beside me on the bed.  At first, I thought I might still be dreaming, but then he spoke and that’s when my life got really crazy.

I’ve never known, or been able to figure out, what triggered this effect, but ever since when I start a book or see a character in my head, within a day or two, he or she is usually physically standing in my living room.  I can’t explain it and I don’t know how they do it, I really don’t.  But, there they are, as real as anything else in this world.

They eat, they sleep, they watch my TV – please, don’t try and explain feminine products to a Callithan Warrior, it won’t end well! – They complain, they demand and until I get their story on paper, they just won’t leave me alone.

I tried at first, to ignore them.  I really did.  I swear.  But, I quit that little experiment when a Malkian’s Rothound ate through my carpet and the hardwood floors underneath out of sheer boredom.  I’m sure you can imagine what lie I had to tell my landlord over that one, can’t you?

Sorry, I’m digressing here.

Anyway, my life is strange in the best of times and horribly inconvenient in the worst.

I noticed things had gone quiet in the kitchen.  Saving my work to the Cloud Server, I stretched out of my chair and went to see what my three latest visitors had gotten into.

An Elf, a Half-Dragon and a Quillen Smuggler being silent is never a good thing!  Trust me on this.  I’ve learned from experience.  Any one of them alone isn’t so bad, but you get all three together, in a strange world full of new things to kill, eat, destroy, steal, whatever and the likelihood for mischief ensuing is very high.

And I wasn’t wrong.

My kitchen was empty.  The backdoor stood open and I sighed.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I headed back into my living room, scooped up my keys, a wad of cash – I was probably going to need it – and my cellphone.  Locking up the house, I headed out to my street and turned right.

Niro loved his drink, he’s quite fond of Corona for some reason, so I headed for Ketchen’s Pub and Grill on the corner.  Knowing Half-Dragon’s as I do, I figured if Niro was thirsty and Cale was still hungry, the place would satisfy both their needs.  Tonthor probably just tagged along for the ride, or the fun of it.

Again, I wasn’t wrong.

I pulled open the door bare seconds before one of my neighbors came flying out of it.  I sidestepped calmly then entered to find all three standing back to back in the middle of the room.  Surrounding them were six of the men that frequented the place.  Joe, the owner/head cook/, well, he did it all, stood behind the bar, calmly wiping down a beer mug, seemingly unconcerned with the knock-down-drag-out-brawl about to consume his establishment.

Thankful I’d brought the cash along, I strode up to the long wooden monstrosity over which I’d consumed many an alcoholic beverage over the years and slipped up on a stool.  Tapping the oak, I asked the most logical question.  “So, who started it?”

Joe, an older man who threatened to sell and retire to Florida every chance he got, pulled a draft and slid it toward me.  “Oh, don’t worry.  Your boys are innocent for once.”

I sipped from the mug and smiled at him over the rim.  “That’s good to know.  The usual rate then?”

Joe laughed, surveyed the damage already done and I knew he was calculating what was to come in his head by the shrewd narrowing of his grey eyes.  “Yeah, that should cover it.”

I dug the wad out of my back pocket, counted out a grand, laid it on the bar then turned to watch the mayhem.

Cale, with his dark hair, darker eyes and classically angular face looked ready to kill.  He was new to my world and I had no idea if he would or not, so I kept careful watch on him more than the other two.

Tonthor and Niro had been visiting me for years, on and off, so I knew they’d never actually kill a human – we’d discussed this – so I wasn’t overly concerned about them.  They were both aware of my world’s laws and what could possibly happen if they did.  Oh, they’d give the rednecks around them a good ass-whoopin’, of that I had no doubt, but they’d never do permanent damage.

Cale, well, he was still an enigma.

I briefly worried he might shift into a dragon or something, but according to him he couldn’t, he was only Half after all, so I tabled that concern for another time.

Right now, I was just going to enjoy the show…and make some notes while I was at it.  One thing I’ve always prided myself on in my writing was the level of reality I’m able put into it.  Of course, having one or more of the main characters sitting next to me helps a great deal.  There’s nothing better than the first-hand account of a story, let me tell ya!  But, sometimes they aren’t as forthcoming as I might like.

It happens more often than not with the men if you must know.  Getting them to open up about their emotions is always difficult, at first anyway.  Once they trust I’m going to do them justice, or they visit me again and find their first story has done well in my world, they tend to be a little more talkative.  But, in the beginning, it’s like pulling teeth from a Florida Gator…a really big one!

So, I was going to use this time to watch, Cale especially, and get a handle on him.  I hoped…

Before things could get started this time, the door opened again.  I couldn’t tell who it was at first, with the sun streaming in from behind, but he was definitely male and wore a very big hat.  After a moment, I recognized the shape of his body and grumbled out a curse.

The Sheriff.  Well, crap!

He strode in and from his glower, I knew this was not going to be pretty.  At all.

Not for the first time this morning, I wasn’t wrong.

He walked across the room and right up to me, ignoring the other ten men in the room.  “Figured you’d be here.”

Sheriff Ronon Wulfdrak was the most handsome man I’ve ever met.  His blue eyes sparkled all the time, whether he’s happy, sad, angry or aroused.  His square jaw, high cheeks and rugged brow never flinched, unless he was dealing with me, of course.  His wide shoulders, thick, corded arms and barrel chest filled out the uniform oh so nicely and I had to cross my legs to stop the tingle his proximity always caused.

He was also the bastard that had started the mess that was my life, the one I’d looked up at that night six years ago.  I stared now into his narrowed and yes, glittering blue eyes and lifted the mug in salute, hoping the vibration his deep baritone had sent through my chest didn’t show.  “Sheriff.  There a problem?”

His eye twitched and I knew this wasn’t good.  “You bet your happy ass there’s a problem!” he growled.

Now, when I say growled, I mean that quite literally.  You see, Ronon is a wolf.  Not a werewolf, but an honest to Gods wolf.  Or, he was in his world, before I so rudely pulled him into mine and made him human.  His words, not mine, please understand that.  But, more on him later.  For now, I set the glass on the bar again and gave him my full attention.  Which wasn’t hard, at all, he’d had it since that night six years ago.  “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

He growled, again, and his lips pinched into a hard line.  “You can come down to the jail and collect your,” he paused and huffed out a derisive snort.  “Latest victim.”

Oh good grief.  More?  Ok, something was wrong.  I usually only had one, maybe two friends, as I’d come to think of them over the years, around at any given time.  Three was a stretch for sure, but four?  I slid off the stool and waved my hands at the boys.  “Come on, back to the house…”

Everyone, including the rednecks, groaned – I think Tonthor may have even whined a bit – but they complied.  At least mine did and a few minutes later, I handed my keys to Niro, shooing them down the street.

Ronon stood next to me on the sidewalk, tapping an impatient foot while I watched to make sure the trio followed my orders.  I let him wait.  Mainly because I enjoy getting him riled up, greatly enjoy it if you must know.  Ok, getting ahead of things again.  I am sorry about that, but where the big Wolf is concerned I just can’t help myself.

Only after I heard my front door slam did I turn and give Ronon my best smile.  “After you, Sheriff.”

He huffed out another of those derisive snorts and grabbed my upper arm to guide me to the cruiser he’d parked by the curb.  He opened the door on the passenger side and none too gently shoved me toward it.

I folded in and he slammed the door, almost catching my foot.  Like I said, he’s not happy with me, hasn’t been for a long time.  I know this and deftly pulled my poor appendage out of the way before he could get it.  After we’d gotten underway, I baited him for probably the hundredth time since we’d met.  “You know…if you’d just talk to me, you could probably go back.”

***

Hi everyone.  My name is Margaret Taylor and I’m really the Author.  Kathy up there is my Heroine from my upcoming release, Wolf’s Paradox.  It’s coming in June 2013 and will be available on Amazon, B&N and all the other wonderful places there is to buy eBooks.

I thank you for joining me.  Also, thank you J & M, the wonderful ladies of Fight For Your Write, for having me yesterday. Please, show them some love!  And I truly hope you enjoyed meeting Kathy.  It was fun to let her take center stage for this…so I appreciate your patience.

About the Author

Margaret Taylor’s debut release Wolf’s Paradox is coming in June 2013.  She also has Prophecy of Love with Lyrical Press (Coming in Feb, 2014). She has many current projects in the works and if you ask nicely, she might be persuaded to post some tasty excerpts! *Bring Cookies as payment please!*

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