|Posted on February 7, 2017 at 11:00 AM|
By now, I'm sure you all know that I love to write series'. I love the way a world can come together book after book and continue to thrive. Getting to play in a world that is already functioning allows me to focus a little more on the story and little less on the world building each time. Plus, I love getting to see my favorite characters reappear in each book. Whether it's Dale or Ciara in the Guardians or Lucius or Kellan in the Alliance, the characters are always there, adding an additional layer to the story. Not to mention the entire DeMarco clan can be found elaborately celebrating the holidays in each Christmas Wish book. Maybe it just means I have a problem letting go, but I can't help it!
See what I mean?
Lucius in Angels in Steam
Trench Coat in Worlds on Fire
For me, it's like coming home to an old friend. Especially because I hope from series to series while I write. It's extremely rare that I will get to sit with a series for two books in a row. So, reoccurring characters really help ground me. They provide a support system of sorts allowing me to sink back into a world I've abandoned for just a short time. Of course, there are some characters *cough* Lucius, who occasionally try to steal the show. I can't think of a single Alliance book where Lucius doesn't have the best one-liner or a heroic moment in the story that rivals the hero. It's just who he is, and try as I might, I can't keep him down.
Writing Forgotten Worlds is a very fun world for me. Torn Between Two Worlds featured a world similar to the "real world" but with angels, demons and of course, the four horsemen . . . or at least their apprentices. While writing it, Jameson would not leave me alone. In fact, I had to cut quite a few scenes of his out, because I felt his humor and wit would outshine the brooding alpha male that Stryder was. I've always loved Stryder, as I invented him when I was in seventh grade to be my protector, but I knew readers might not feel the same. So, I told Jameson if he promised to hush, he would get a book of his own somehow. Within hours I had the plot for Forgotten Worlds, and Jameson piped down for the final few chapters of Torn Between Two Worlds.
Now I'm a good bit into Forgotten Worlds I'm shocked to say how familiar Jameson is. I can't figure out if someone in my life resembles the quicker keeper of pestilence, or if I just want them too. His level of snark grew, and his romantic side shows in a way that I hadn't anticipated, but it is making me slowly question which Horsemen is better? Curious to see what I mean, here's a sneak peak of Forgotten Worlds, coming in April from Hot Ink Press.
Jameson literally kicked rocks when his older brother jokingly told him too. Smirking, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Careful what you say, brother.”
Demarcus snorted, his eyes glowed briefly, the threat noted. “Have you ever not been a smartass? I mean in our entire centuries of existence, has there been a single, solitary moment where you didn’t have a comeback?”
Grinning wider he shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Fitting he’s paired with Pestilence, isn’t it?” Stryder chuckled before taking a sip of his beer. “Pest suits you nicely, Jameson.”
Yawning tiredly, he patted his mouth to emphasize his boredom. “Really? Three thousand years have passed since you started that, and yet, it’s still the best you’ve got.”
Ciara snorted, shrugging her shoulders when Stryder narrowed his eyes at her. “Sorry, but he’s not wrong. You aren’t just all muscle, but you’re fairly small-minded when it comes to arguing or quips.”
Stryder shifted, casually bumping Ciara from his lap to the floor. “Careful, mate. You’re powerless now, best not to stir the demon.”
Jameson couldn’t help but laugh when Ciara rolled her eyes. The human female had a fire all her own, and she wasn’t afraid to go head-to-head with the second in command to the Horseman of War. Which was likely because Stryder would sever his own head from his shoulders before raising a finger to his mate.
His mate. Jameson thought wistfully for about the millionth time. Looking around the large living room he couldn’t help but give into the stab of guilt wracking through him. His life was as bizarre as they come, and that was putting it mildly.
Until about three years he had no idea there was anything strange going on, then in walked Ciara Miller. To say life had blown the fuck up was the biggest understatement ever. Thanks to the beautiful female mated to his barely older brother, Stryder, they had all learned they were characters in a book.
Talk about impossible to wrap someone’s mind around. Jameson had thought it was a giant crock of shit until he’d met the woman right before an attack had happened. Ciara had been something known as a Word Speaker, a human gifted with the ability to draw life from stories. The purpose? Supposedly to fight in some grand-scale war for good and evil. Guardians were assigned to the Word Speakers through what was allegedly just attraction. He didn’t understand it himself, but the minute Ciara had appeared there had been no denying anything. Not to mention Stryder’d had the privilege of seeing the truth for himself.
It had shaken up everything, especially when Ciara had chosen to forsake everything to be with Stryder in this . . . book world. Life had apparently continued to move along because a Word Speaker had taken up residence in the book and her gifts had been so powerful, she could walk through the worlds. Since then, everything had been even more topsy-turvy.
For about six weeks Jameson had feared every action he took was predestined and written in a book. He’d been ecstatic waiting for his mate, practically sleeping with anything with a skirt in an attempt to find her, wondering if his story had been written yet. With Ciara keeping their world spinning even without the story being read, none of them had any idea how a new story would play out. Then, news had come that Ciara’s moving to the world had caused the author to die – because she’d come into Stryder’s life and made it so a book could not be written for him. Tragedy aside, it had apparently left Jameson without a story of his own, without a mate of his own.
“Nothing to say?” Fasheem smirked from where he stood against the far wall. “Jameson?”
Shaking his head, he forced himself back into the moment. “Sorry, casualty of having boring siblings, you tune out easily.”
“Hey, some of us are far from boring!” Ciara protested with a smile.
Ciara, whatever did you start, human female?
“Well, not enough for this demon. Anyone need a refill? I need something stronger than beer if I’m going to spend the entire afternoon with the lot of you.” Grinning he waited, and when no one had a request, he left to head for the kitchen.
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Categories: Lexi's Life