Author Interview& Giveaway: Dead Awakenings by Rebekah R. Ganiere

Dead Awakenings
Rebekah R. Ganiere

Genre: Urban Fantasy Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Etopia Press
Date of Publication: 1/3/2014
Number of pages: 269


Book Trailer

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Book Description:
Evaine, a struggling New York theater student, enters an unsanctioned drug trial in an effort to pay bills.  She awakens in a derelict hospital, chained to a bed with no memory of who she is, or how she got there.  A band of pale skinned men, led by the gorgeous Luca, burst in, whisking her away to safety.
Once at Haven House, Evaine is introduced to The Family. Like them, she has become A Deader, a reanimated Undead.
Luca is hell-bent on stopping the experimentations, and killing those responsible. He has no time for a Newborn who is struggling to control her rages, hunger, and powers. Nor does he have the desire to deal with the feelings she's awakening within him.
Despite their best efforts, Evaine and Luca find their connection intensifying when suddenly, she remembers not only who she is, but also her fiancé, Tristan; who is still looking for her.
Torn between her first love and her new heart’s desire, Evaine runs back to Tristan putting everyone in danger. When a rogue faction of Deaders, called Feeders, attempts to kidnap her, Luca suspects Evaine is the key to the experiments.
Can everyone band together to keep Evaine off the cutting table of those she escaped from? Or will second death tear her away from everyone, for good?

Paranormal Romance Fans for Life would like to extend a warm welcome to Rebekah Ganiere, author of Dead Awakenings.  
Rebekah, first please tell us where you are from and where/who did your love for writing come from? 
I'm from a lot of places. I was born in Los Angeles where my Dad was getting his Doctorate at USC. My parents then moved to Washington D.C. while my dad worked at the White House. We moved to Connecticut, back to Virginia and eventually to Idaho. Right now I live just north of Los Angeles.

Can you say that your journey to publication was difficult? If so, what were the hardest moments to get through? 

Yes and no. It was difficult in the beginning until I learned a bit about the industry and how it really works. Then I decided to go with a small publisher and it got easy from there. The hardest moments are the rejections without a reason. I'm big on, tell me what's wrong so I can fix it. But no feedback it hard because then I don't know what to fix.

How do you overcome i-suck-it is, that little voice in your head that tells you your writing isn’t good enough? 

I have a writer friend who kicks me in the butt and tells me to get over it J And a loving family who believes in me.

What is your dream vacation? 

That's hard because part of me would love to go to a Sandals resort and be massaged and fed for two weeks without a care in the world. The other part wants to go to Europe, England, Ireland and Scotland and see everything until I drop from exhaustion!

Describe your writing style in five words. 

Idea - Characters - Story Idea - Pantzer

What movies are you currently excited to see? 

Anything with Tom Hiddleston! Captain America Winter Soldier, X-men Future Past, I-Frankenstein, I'd say Hobbit part 3, but I wasn't impressed with part 2. And I guess Mocking Jay.

What are you currently reading? 

A bunch of manuscripts by my critique partners.

If you weren’t a writer, what other careers would you pursue? 

I used to be a graphic designer. I liked that. But mostly I'm a mom and happy to be one.

If you could create a holiday of your own, what would it be called? 

Another Halloween. ROFL! I think it's sad that I only get to dress the way I REALLY want to, one night out of the year.

For people who haven’t read your novel, how would you summarize the plot? 

A struggling theater student enters an unsanctioned drug trial in an effort to pay bills and wakes up with no memory of who she is or where she is, to find she become a Deader. She is rescued by a group of Deaders like her and taken to the safety of Haven House. There she learns who she really is and the powers she now possesses as a reanimated undead, all the while dealing with rages, hungers and lusts she cannot control. While there she forms a connection with Luca, a gorgeous Deader who wants nothing to do with her. But as their connection deepens she suddenly remembers who she is and her human fiancé Tristan, who is still actively looking for her. Torn between the two men she loves, Evaine must decide between her old life and her new life. All the while, those who experimented on her are still searching for her and will stop at nothing to get her back.

What are two of your pet-peeves? 

People who don't have the guts to say something to your face, but will say it behind your back. People who dish it but can't take it.

To you, what makes a good story? 

Believable characters. When I character is believable, what they do is believable. When that happens, if you’ve created a good character, you'll get a good story when you throw them into a new situation.

What usually turns you off about a story? 

Slow. If a story starts off slow I put it down. It has to grab me right away. Also feeling like an author put something into a story just to hit a new trend. The token BDSM, the token gay friend. If that's what you're writing. Write it! But don't write it to try and hit a market you aren't aiming for.

If you could collaborate with any author, who would you choose, and why? 

I don't know that I would. I'm not a real good collaborator. I'm too controling. Though I do have a great Critique partner that I said we should work together on something because she fills in my gaps J

What is on your night stand? 

My 40 gallon aquarium with my two baby Leopard Tortoises, Hulk and Loki. Also my Teavana mug and about 1000 supplements.

What is your favorite book?

I don't have one favorite. I tried to narrow it down and I just can't.

Thank you so much for joining us today, Rebekah. We really enjoyed the insights. Good luck with Dead Awakenings. 

About the Author:

Rebekah grew up on both the east and west coasts and currently lives in the Los Angeles area. From the Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein to The Stand by Stephen King, Rebekah immersed herself in other people's made up worlds. She began writing in junior high and then found she liked pretending to be other people's characters in high school. Lettering in drama she went on to study theater in college as well. After college she continued acting till becoming a mom. Ultimately, she ended up going back to writing her characters down instead of acting them out, so she could stay at home with her kids.

Rebekah is a member of Romance Writers of America and is a board member of both the Fantasy, Futuristic, & Paranormal and her local Los Angeles chapters.  When she isn't spending time telling the lives of the characters constantly chattering inside her head, you can find her with her husband and four children; reading comic books, gaming, at the movies or taking care of the menagerie of pets. A dog, a rabbit, two bearded dragons, and three tortoises. Wonder woman, the escaped snake, has yet to be located.

Author Contacts:
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Tour Giveaway:

2 prize packs containing: eBook copy of Dead Awakenings , bookmark, set of Halloween bottle labels  and a zombie virus necklace - open to US Shipping

2 ebook copies of Dead Awakenings open internationally

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Spotlight: Chaos Bound Rebekah Turner

Chaos Bound
Chronicles of the Applecross
Book 2
by Rebekah Turner
 
Genre: Urban fantasy
Publisher: Escape Publishing
Date of Publication: 1 December 2013
Number of pages: 177

 

About the Book:
The long-awaited sequel to Chaos Born takes us back into the Applecross, where Lora faces increasing threats to her survival and her chance at love.
Lora Blackgoat — mercenary and smuggler — has only just recovered from the last threat on her life and hasn’t even begun to sort out the mess of having both a nephilim warrior and a reborn hellspawn as potential lovers. Work should be a refuge, but a job finding missing persons puts her in the crosshairs of a violent gang and a merchant with a taste for blood sport.
Reluctantly, Lora turns to the two men in her life for help. Roman — the nephilim — professes to be her soul mate and turns to her when he feels the darkness of nephilim madness descending. But though Lora is drawn to Roman, it is Seth, ex-lover and reborn hellspawn, who Lora must ultimately ask to protect those she loves. Can she trust Seth to save Roman and her adoptive family, or will this be a fatal mistake?

Excerpt:
No one had liked Rae Dowler. His nickname had been Captain Chunky, and that was from his friends. 
He'd been a greedy bastard in life and now, in death, was a weight on my conscience. This was the 
second co-worker to die on a job with me. The first one I’d had to behead after he'd become infected at an 
exorcism with a demonic entity, along with the client. Thankfully, my sword had been nowhere near Rae 
Dowler when he'd dropped dead of an old-fashioned heart attack. Still, people liked to talk.
Spring had bloomed in the bustling city of Harken, and instead of the usual rain, or tepid fog, the narrow, crooked streets had been flooded with gentle, golden sunshine. For a city used to constant downpours and overcast skies, the unexpected weather was viewed with some suspicion and considered most unseemly. 
A warm afternoon wind was blowing though the cemetery, ruffling black skirts and sending hats sailing. I watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, only half listening as a priest of The Higher Path faith droned on about eternal life.
Dowler had been in the Runner industry for over forty years. He was the only other Runner at Blackgoat Watch that didn't mind being sent on jobs past The Weald's guarded entryways: out into the modern world, with its buzzing technology, flashing neon lights and all things deep fried. Transporting anything from the Outlands back into the hidden Weald was illegal, but somehow Dowler always managed to return with a tray of Winkie Bill's Crème Donuts. A tray he never shared, mind you. Just sat in the kitchen of Blackgoat and scoffed the lot before he had to go home to his wife. In light of his less than stellar diet, I guess the heart attack that killed him wasn't a complete surprise. 
Gideon, my benefactor and owner of Blackgoat Watch, stood to my left, reeking of stale whisky and 
boredom. Cloete, another runner at Blackgoat, was on my right. A five-foot dynamo, Cloete was otherkin: 
her bloodline a mixture of succubus and goddess-knew-what other interbred, mystic race. Today she was 
wearing leather pants and a suede coat, her petite horns hidden under a bowler hat. Her inky-black tail 
wrapped around one leg, the end tapping impatiently against her thigh. Tails were tricky things, always 
giving away the mind of their owners. Tails never seemed to lie and I was thankful I didn’t have one.
The priest said 'amen' and people dutifully took their cue and began shuffling away. Dowler's widow, a heavy-set woman with coarse hair and fleshy jowls, tossed wilted roses into the open grave, her expression a mixture of sadness and regret, with a pinch of what looked like suspicion.
‘Thank Kianna's sacred tits that's over.’ Cloete yawned, tail unravelling from her leg. ‘Who's up for a 
brew at Growlers?’
‘That was the most boring funeral I've ever attended.’ Gideon copied Cloete's yawn, covering his mouth with a hairy hand. He was decked out in a long frock coat with a red carnation tucked in the lapels and a natty yellow necktie. Gideon was a full-blooded satyr, and though he made every effort to look human, today he'd forgotten a hat, and his tangle of steel-wool grey hair revealed the tops of his horns he'd had amputated years ago in an effort to fit in. He'd also forgotten the contacts that changed his slit pupils to round, and his fancy-made shoes didn't match. All this, and his hangdog expression, suggested he was struggling with a hangover.
‘It wasn't that boring.’ I tried to sound indignant on Dowler's behalf, but came off sounding guilty. I was busy praying the wife didn't notice me. 
‘Before I forget, Lora,’ Gideon paused to yawn again, ‘I need you to come in to Blackgoat tomorrow to talk about a new job.’
‘You've already got me babysitting the theatre bimbo,’ I reminded him. It was a simple bodyguard gig. No real threats...low stress...limited chance of beheadings. 
‘Please.’ Gideon looked pained. ‘Nicola Grogan is an actress, and a fine one at that.’ He sniffed and flicked a finger at his carnation. ‘And I must say, that doesn't sound like gratitude from where I'm standing.’
My lips tightened, but I had enough smarts to pause before I spoke, giving my brain a chance to kick in. After being passed over for jobs because other Runners refused to work with me, I was in no position to turn my nose up at any opportunities. I'd only attended one other successful exorcism job since the beheading incident. That client had been high profile: the daughter of the Lord Mayor Corelli. Unfortunately, the Mayor was a staunch advocate of the Church of Higher Path, who frowned upon things such as spells and magic, seeing them as blasphemy. Blackgoat Watch had been hired by Mayor Corelli's wife, who'd sworn Gideon to secrecy, all of which meant I couldn't put the job on my brag sheet of clients I hadn't killed. As things stood now, Gideon had been forced to strong-arm Rae Dowler to work with me on a stakeout of a suspected cheating husband. The fact that the job hadn't ended well for Dowler was now going to make me a social pariah. Again.
‘Sorry,’ I muttered. ‘I'm grateful. I'm grateful.’
Gideon grunted and made a beeline for the rickshaw he'd hired to chauffeur him to and from the cemetery. Despite his dishevelled look this morning, Gideon liked to think most people couldn't pick he was a satyr, and that he was a master of disguise. No one had the heart to tell him he wasn't.
I rubbed my right lame leg and leant heavily on my goat-headed duelling cane, jealous of the rickshaw. After downing two espressos and three pastries from a local bakery, I'd walked to the cemetery as an act of contrition. Orella Warbreeder, my adoptive mother, had been lecturing me on how walking would do my joints wonders. But after standing in one place for so long, my hip had seized. I had half a mind to beg a lift with Gideon when a wink of light caught my eye, coming from the line of pine trees hedging one side of the cemetery. The light blinked again. I was no super spy, but had enough smarts to know when someone wanted my attention. 
‘Lora?’
‘Eh?’ I realised Cloete had asked me a question. 
‘Drink?’ She mimed throwing back a tankard of beer.
‘I think I'll just stay here a bit,’ I said. ‘Catch up with you later?’
Her eyebrows lifted. ‘Self-pity is an ugly emotion, Lora.’
‘Fuck off. I've just got things to do.’
Cloete pursed her lips. ‘You won't be bringing your boyfriend, will you?’
‘Boyfriend?’ My eyebrows arched. ‘Who would that be?’
‘Are you serious?’ Cloete snorted. ‘You think people aren't gossiping about you making goo-goo eyes at that fire and brimstone Regulator?’
I flushed. ‘His name is Roman, and we're just friends.’ 
One side of Cloete's mouth jerked up. ‘How very teen drama.’
‘Shut up.’
She began to stalk off, then paused, glancing back at me. ‘Just make sure you come to Growlers tonight, yeah? I want to talk to you about something important.’
‘Fine, fine.’ I gave her a surly look. ‘I'll make sure my teen drama doesn't follow me.’
Cloete chuckled as she left, striding towards the city with a smattering of other burly-looking Blackgoat Runners. I'd heard she'd flat-out refused the protection detail for Nicola Grogan. I wish I could have done the same. Spoilt actresses were bad for my health. There was another flash from the woods and I got the impression someone wanted me to hurry up. 
The hairs on my neck prickled and I turned to see Dowler's wife. Her lips peeled back and she hissed at me, sounding like a kettle on the boil. I opened my mouth a couple of times before managing to mutter 
condolences about her loss. 
‘This was your fault.’ Her eyes were slits of fury, face dry of tears. ‘My husband's blood is on your hands.’
‘I don't think that's fair,’ I protested weakly. 
But the widow was already leaving, an elderly man escorting her away. She let herself be led, back stiff with anger. I watched her go, feeling miserable. How was Dowler's death my fault? A small voice told me I was a jinx, so that kind of made it my fault. I balked as the widow pulled away from her escort and stabbed a finger at me, spit flying from thinned lips. ‘You're the angel of death, Lora Blackgoat. You bring nothing but misery into people's lives.’ 
Her escort tightened his grip, threw me a scowl, and hurried her from the cemetery. I was the only one by Dowler's graveside now. Even the grave attendants had retreated for a break, leaning against headstones and smoking tobacco pipes. 
I unbuttoned my coat and adjusted my work-belt with its heavy pockets, loaded with knick-knacks most useful in a fight. This included pouches of salt, the one medium guaranteed to act as a conduit to the ley-lines that ran under the earth and fuelled all magic. It wasn't hard to cast; took a few years of training to get the concentration right, then chuck a bit of salt, shout a few words of power in the language of your choice, and hey presto, you could set your own hair on fire. My belt was well stocked with salt, including one pouch of my own special mixture: powdered consecrated silver, salt, and half a teaspoon of gunpowder. I called it my Sucker Punch Special: guaranteed to rock your socks when you needed it. Feeling prepared, I braced my cane against my bad leg and strode towards the line of pine trees.

About the Author:

Rebekah lives in sunny Queensland and has worked in the past as a graphic designer. She now does freelance work when her kids are looking the other way. An avid writer since she could scrawl in her dad’s expensive encyclopedias, she has progressed from horsey stories to tales of dark fantasy with lashings of romance and a sprinkling of horror.
Her vices include eating overpriced ice cream, over analyzing 80's action and horror movies and buying stationery she just doesn’t need.

Author Contacts: 
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