Ellie and I have been friends for several years. We met in a critiquing group, and she was always encouraging me with kindness and honesty. Ellie's a nice lady. She really is, and I am so happy to see this particular book be published because I saw parts of it in the early days.
So, without further ado, here's the talented, generous, and all around nice gal, Ellie Heller.
Hi David! Thanks so much for letting me come and hang out.
Nice, comfy couch you've got here. Ooh, and lots of rings from too hot mugs on
the coffee table. You get a lot of great visitors here.
My story, A Matter of Fate – which David saw a couple of
different iterations of – came out April 22. It's about a full elf woman, Mona,
who finds out her best friend has a death spell on her and her job guarding both
elves and mortals from misused magic is a lot more complicated than she was
told. Totally doesn't help that her mentor/boss is mysteriously silent on it
all. To top everything off, she meets her sexy shifter mate. He's a distraction
from work she will not succumb to, no matter how much he says he's fighting the
attraction too.
A question I often get is where I got the idea for the
story. And I typically respond that this story is an outcropping from another
novel I wrote set in the same 'world'. Then expend on how my first effort,
filled with backstory, long descriptive passages of how magic worked, and
detailed dialog on non relevant topics will never see the light of day.
But then I thought, why not share the very first germination
of the story? I know if I read my response, I'd be curious about the
never-to-see-light-of-day novel.
So here you go, the very first bit I ever wrote in the world
that I created for A Matter of Fate. This very first draft is quite a bit
different than even the later completed version – this has more of a chic-lit
feel, I even titled it Elves in Suburbia (which I still love as a title!). Oh,
and this character isn't Mona, it's someone else entirely. Needless to say this
is rough, no copy editor's been through this bit.
The change of tone of
the radio announcers dragged me out of my slumber. I was on the Lazy boy,
working on a sun renewal session in the feeble late afternoon sun. As I became
more awake the gist of the catastrophe filtered through the remnants of my
dreams.
“We are receiving
reports that one of the Erie Shore wind turbines has collapsed onto the Route
Five freeway causing major damage.”
The rest did not sink
in right away. My first sleepy thought was 'too far away to use to hide my
leaving'. I really needed to shake the ever-annoying Agent Hynson and disappear
soon.
As I listened more,
the extent of the damage and the potential lives lost became clearer. I truly
felt guilty about my first reaction. Yes, I know, there is a common
misperception that elves do not have feelings. All hooey. It is part of a
female elf's nature to help people, it really is; I just had other, pressing
things on my not quite awake mind. The dreams that had been holding me down in
my slumber contributed to my urgency to leave.
I paced and awaited
more reports, even going so far as to turn on the television, which I simply
deplore but accept as a necessity. The tone became more frantic as reporters
hit the scene. Severe weather hampered the rescue effort. A plan formulated in
my mind. I still had my Red Cross badge from helping during Katrina, I could be
there in forty five minutes if I cut a few corners. I would help, which I fully
planned to do anyway, my energies were thrumming in reaction, and at the same
time assuage my guilt for my uncharitable first thought. Once done, I could use
the event to disappear. Everyone would benefit, the best type of plan.
An emergency bag was
packed; I only needed to add seasonal accoutrements and my spare Russian army
snowsuit. As soon as I was done, I made two phone calls. The first was to
Randal. He and his crew would empty the place and hold everything until I told
them where to forward it. I could have had him do it before I left and taken
the dimensional warp bags myself, but I didn’t want to wait. Plus I’d have to
unload everything at the other end without help, always a bit tricky when you couldn't
tell the size of what would come out.
The second call was to
my dear old thorn in the side Hynson. I’d picked up the habit of calling him to
let him know when I flitted off somewhere and thus lessen the annoyance he
caused in my life. Neighbors and coworkers do not look kindly upon being pulled
out of their daily lives and questioned regarding my whereabouts. Sometimes for
hours. Okay only once did that happen, when I went to help during Katrina,
which is outside of my region. Not that Hynson would take my word on where I’d
gone. He’d still check, but at other end, and not disrupt my home life. It was
an uneasy, if complacent, truce.
On his voice mail I
duly recorded I was going to the turbine collapse site and I expected to be
there for the next day or two. I didn’t add when I planned to be back home,
since I didn’t want to lie to him. Not that I can’t, another elfin myth which
is full of hot air, it is just so much easier to omit information.
I do admit, I found I could not keep up the tone and quickly
switched to third person, so there isn't much written in that style, fun as it
is for me to read now.
As I wrote more and developed the world and magic system and
how the groups interacted, well, it's just too much to keep in, and even more
to edit out. Instead I stepped sideways and wrote about the same events from a
different point of view.
Just for kicks, here's the same 'scene' in A Matter of Fate:
With no way for her
to get off the overpass in time, she needed the protection her car afforded.
Counting seconds, as if she had a clue when the blade would hit, she hurried
back to her car as fast as she dared on the slippery slope, worried
she wouldn’t make it in time. As she climbed in, the road shuddered,
rocking the chassis. She turned off the engine.
The sound of nails
scraping a blackboard magnified a hundredfold shrieked out as the tip ground
against the concrete. Covering her ears, Mona leaned into the steering wheel.
The barren stretch
of road where the skyway leveled out imploded under the impact. The concrete
tumbled, and the cars rose and fell as the skyway buckled.
The car ahead of
Mona was hit by the car in front of it as the sedan slid back. Mona sat back up
and crossed her arms in front of her face a moment before her airbag exploded.
Fuck, that hurt.
The car swayed along
with the overpass, but her section remained aloft. As the jostling slowed, the
airbag deflated and she could see again.
The blade stuck
straight up in the dusk tinted sky, the road on either side gone.
If she hadn’t sent the Jeep
careening across the road, and there hadn’t already been a snarl-up,
more cars would have been on the collapsed section.
So very different, and not just because of the change from first person to third, the person is there, not just hearing about it on the radio. Action, baby!
Now, I admit I often struggle quite a bit with where to
start the story. This is the only instance, though, where the struggle wasn't
just where to start, but with whom to start and where in the story line I should
be. I hope I've gotten it right. Only time will tell.
A Matter of Fate was released by Crimson Romance on April 22
and is available from Amazon,
Someone is setting death-spells targeting
mortals and elf blood alike. With her mentor out of commission, it’s up to
half-trained Warder Mona Lisa Kubrek to stop the magic. Despite being told
repeatedly her job is to nullify spells and not go after the source, too many
people are at risk for her to not track the spell-caster down. Even meeting a
sexy half-elf shifter won’t distract her from her goal.
Except Cart Dupree is fully trained and has
the team to search for the evildoer, so she’d be stupid to not use his
expertise. Stupid is something she can’t afford to be, not with her enemy’s
henchmen after her. Later she’ll deal with Cart and his questions about her
special abilities and the non-standard training her mentor has given her. Right
now, they need to unravel where the magician is, and who he is, before he
builds enough power to decimate them all.
First, though, they need to stay alive.
Sensuality Level: Behind Closed Doors
Where all I can be found:
Twitter @elliewrites2
Many, many thanks to
David for letting me come ramble!
