Saturday, September 26, 2009

Author Interview

Hi ya'll, and Happy Fall. Can you believe October is right around the corner? I love this season; all the colors, a little cooler. Anyways, lets get down to business. I had the pleasure of interviewing author, Anida Adler. Her book, The Ancient, is out at Loose Id. So sit down with a warm cup of coffee and check out the interview. Afterward, leave a comment for your chance to win this cute Shannon O'Shamrock bear. One winner will be randomly drawn from the tour's comments.

Deborah: Hi, Anida. Thanks for stopping by to answer a few questions. Can you tell us a little about your latest release?

Anida: What would you do if you fell in love with the goddess of death? Tadhg Daniels faces this dilemma when he’s visited by Morrigán, an immortal he thought was only a myth. The attraction is instant and mutual, but she came to warn him his death is imminent. There’s a way he can gain immortality, but it will involve sacrifices the sensitive poet might not be prepared to make. Banished god Dian Cecht has discovered Morrigán can release him from his eternal prison, but Tadhg stands in his way. Time is running out, and the shackles are waiting.

Deborah: Sounds very interesting. What or who inspired you to write it?

Anida: Tadhg and Morrigán made a brief appearance in my first novel, The Pebble (Amira Press 2009, author name Nadia Williams). I was intrigued by this odd couple, and just had to tell the world how the two of them got together.

Deborah: How long have you been writing, and did you know at a young age you wanted to be an author?

Anida: I wanted to be an author from a very young age, and wrote little stories all my life. I gave up this dream as unrealistic in my teens, but near the end of 2003, my husband encouraged me to sit down and write a book. I did, and haven’t looked back since.

Deborah: Do you have a special place in your home where you like to write? If so, what does it look like?

Anida: My writing desk used to be crammed between the television and the fireplace in the sitting room of our house. I wrote wearing headphones and listening to loud music to drown out the noise - I don’t really watch TV myself. Last month, we moved to a new place, and I now have a wonderful writing spot by a window overlooking the Cooley Mountains

Deborah: Okay, it’s time for a list of your favorites.

Anida: Color - Red or blue.
B. Number - Six.
C. Food - Hmmm. Depends on my mood, but I’d say pizza.
D. Drink - Sweet white wine, though nothing beats a pint (shorthand for a pint of beer, but I suppose you all know that!) with a good friend.
E. Music - I adore Jason Mraz, and love most of his music.
F. Author - Terry Pratchett, no hesitation, no contest. A very close second would be Diana Wynne-Jones.
G. Actor/Actress - I’m very fond of Brad Pitt, mainly because of the personality I see in there. Second would be Hugh Jackman, mainly because of the body I see out there. I think Angelina Jolie is very talented, and I also identify strongly with the life journey she’s had.
H. Movie - Stardust.

Deborah: Yes, Hugh Jackman is one hot man. :) If you were stranded on a deserted island and you could have only one person there with you, who would it be, and why?

Anida: My husband, Micky. He is my best friend and the person I get along with best. I also have a really good friend, composer Lewis Smith , who is my other soul mate, in a way. I’d be very sad to not have him around, but knowing Lewis he’d make a plan to get us off the island to come to Belfast for a pint.

Deborah: Lol. What advice would you give someone just starting out in this business?

Anida: Have talent. That’s the harsh reality, you do have to have a talent for writing to be an author. It’s not something you can learn. Persevere. Stick your ego in your pocket and forget it’s there. Persevere. Read every writer’s manual you can lay your hands on. Persevere. Join a good writer’s workshop. Finally, don’t forget to persevere.

Deborah: And last but not least, is there anything else you would like to tell your readers? Perhaps something that no one would guess about you?

Deborah: My alter ego, Nadia Williams, also has a website with an attached blog You might enjoy tales of my cycling adventures, which you can find here

Deborah: Again, thank you for stopping by. It has been a pleasure talking with you. Take care.

Again, you can find The Ancient at Loose Id.

The Ancient:


What would you do if you fell in love with the goddess of death?

June 1945 - Tadhg Daniels sees a woman clad in strange clothes and a feathered cloak, but she’s invisible to everyone else. He’s convinced his mind has been unhinged by the horrors of the D-day landings four days before, but when she appears to him again, the woman proves she is real. She is Morrigan, goddess of death, come to warn him his life is about to end.

Morrigan is disturbed by the man she meets. He looks in her eyes unflinching, while all others avoid her gaze. She’s never found such a strong will to survive in any of her charges before. He refuses to accept he’s going to die.

There is a way for Tadhg to cheat death, a secret Morrigan has guarded for millennia. Morrigan can save him if she takes him as her lover, but sex with the goddess of death will change him. He needs time to decide if he’s prepared to give up his humanity in order to be with her forever.

But Tadhg is not the only one who knows Morrigan’s secret. Someone else wants to take by force the gift she can bestow. And he’ll stop at nothing to get it.

Excerpt 1:

Rat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat, and two more German soldiers lay dead on the ground that had soaked up the blood of so many good men. The smell of cordite stung his nose and roiled nausea in his stomach. He glanced down at their faces, a seasoned soldier, judging from the lines etched around his mouth, beside him a boy not much older than Stephen.

Not now, not now. There had to be time enough to let the agony of taking life from others flow through his heart. He shoved past Morrigán. Someone fell beside him, and he pulled the trigger, shot and killed, wounded, maimed, and moved on. Bullets zinged an inch past him, and he tumbled into a shell hole beside Mark, breath racing in his chest.

And she was there, beside him, silent, waiting.

“I will not die,” Tadhg growled, but rising fear clutched cold fingers at his throat.
“You’re right there, my friend.” Mark clapped his shoulder. “We’re going to get through this shit together and go horseback riding when this fuckup is over.” He turned his attention back to the fighting, back to the air cloyed with hatred, anger, despair, and fear, and killed more Germans so they would not kill him. “Come on!” Mark shouted to Tadhg and launched himself over the lip of the hole.

Tadhg glanced at Morrigán and hesitated. Her gaze rested on him, and he saw eternity in her eyes. “No, Morrigán. No.” And with that he followed Mark, lifted his body from safety -- and felt the bullets slam into his chest as if time had slowed to a trickle. He fell and slid back into the shell hole, stared up at the blue sky in stunned disbelief.

Sound receded until he lay in utter silence among screams of pain and anger, in the midst of pounding boots and rattling guns. He felt no pain, but it was difficult to breathe, and something wet bubbled on his lips.

Morrigán crouched beside him. Why did she look angry? “You want to live, poet? You want to live no matter what?”

Again he felt that odd sensation of a part of him accepting, looking forward to entering the land of shades. He could blend with the power of running horses, exist in the steaming joy of early morning gallops across dewy fields. Yet inside him, another part rebelled, struggled for life, even as he sensed the last few grains of sand sink to the narrow waist of the hourglass of his measure of days. And as he lay dying, he rested his gaze on Morrigán’s beautiful, pearl-white face, and the part that wanted to live grew, filled him, became all of him.

“Tadhg, answer me. Do you want to live, no matter what the price?”

He couldn’t speak. Dear God, she offered him a chance, and now, because his lungs were filling with blood, he could not force his voice to reach out for what he craved with his entire being. Blackness tinged the edges of his vision; he fought to hold the receding image of her face. He nodded his answer, and she reacted in an instant, flicked her cloak over his body, and Tadhg felt himself falling, falling into a landscape of terrible dreams.
Thanks, again, Anida, for taking the time to answer a few questions so we can get to know you a little better.
Take care,


Anonymous said...

Hello, Deborah, and thanks so much for having me over. The white wine you serve in your lounge here is just perfect. And once I've drained this glass, I'm eyeing those spigots... I'll have to have a pint as well!

joviangeldeb said...

I'm so glad to have you here. I've downed a glass myself and enjoying the day. :)

Mary Ricksen said...

While you guys are drinking I was reading a wonderful excerpt!
There are advantages to being the designated driver.

joviangeldeb said...

lol. thanks for being our driver. :)

Anonymous said...

Ah, bugger it, Mary, we'll get a taxi. *passes Mary a pint of lager*

Anonymous said...

Yeehaa! I just assigned a number to each and every commenter on my virtual book tour, including hosts, then went to my research assistant and asked him to pick a number. He saw no names!

The winner of the Shannon O'Shamrock bear is Patricia Esposito, who commented on Sheri Lewis Wohl's blog. Congratulations, Patricia, I'll email you to get your snail mail address to send your prize.

Thanks to all who commented, I really appreciated the warm welcomes all over the blogosphere!