Today, we're doing something a little different. This is our 19th guest author interview on the Marie Lavender's Books! blog, and fellow author S.C. Alban is visiting us.
Hello!
Hi. Thanks for having me today. I'm so glad to pop on by.
Oh, it's my pleasure! Happy to have you here! :)
Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out and where can we get it?
One of my latest releases is titled A Life Without Living. It was just released at the end of last year. It’s a paranormal fantasy, the paranormal element involving witches. But, it’s really a love story. The story follows the “star-crossed” love of Kate and Gio- two souls destined to be together, though Kate’s betrothed, Alessandro, doesn’t necessarily agree and stops at nothing to keep these two apart. There’s a little bit of everything in this one…sex, violence, time twists, magic, true love, and mystery. It’s currently available through Amazon as a paperback and e-reader version, Barnes and Noble online, and, of course, through the publishing company, Solstice Publishing.
Interesting!
So, did anything prompt this book? Something that inspired you?
So, did anything prompt this book? Something that inspired you?
I’ve
always been a romantic at heart. I was an English Literature major at
university, so much of my writing has been prompted by classic tales of love
and loss.
All right.
I’ve always had a passion for writing. I’ve always loved to read. I’m a “journaler” so I suppose you could say I’ve been a writer for a while now. However, it was only just recently (five years ago) that I decided to follow my passion and commit to one story to completion.
Love to hear a good origin story! ;)
I love Anne Rice. The Witching Hour is one of my top 5 novels of all time. But, I’m also a Hemingway fan. I also tremendously enjoy Garcia Lorca and King, Keroauc and Walker.
Great!
So, just to let you know, we're curious...
Do you write in a specific place? Or time of day?
Do you write in a specific place? Or time of day?
I
work from a laptop because I prefer to be mobile. If I really need to get
working and focused, I love to work in the library of the nearby university.
There’s just something about being around all those books that gets me going.
As far as a certain time, I’m all over the place, morning or night, whenever,
just as long as I have my iPod and headphones.
Isn't it fascinating how the muse works?
S.C., are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers? Any advice?
As a newbie myself, there is so
much I have to learn, but one of the most important lessons I have gained thus
far, is to be persistent. Just keep at it. Evolve as a writer, keep writing,
keep querying, keep going, don’t quit. Just…persevere.
Wow, I couldn't have said it better myself. That's great advice!
S.C.
Alban was born and raised in Northern California. She is the eldest of three
children and often spent much of her childhood playing make believe with her
two younger sisters. However, it wasn't until much later that she knew she
was destined to be a writer.
Thanks so much for stopping by! It was such a pleasure to have you here. :)
Readers, here is the blurb for A Life Without Living.
Kate
Martins appears to have it all– a good career, a beautiful home, and an amazing
husband. What more could a woman ask for? But when Kate's recurring nightmares
begin to cross over into her waking hours, she discovers that her perfect life
is not at all what it seems. It isn't until she meets a mysterious stranger
that Kate begins to question who she truly is and where she comes from.
Here is an excerpt.
I was
running. Always running. Running fast among the trees, feet bare as I trampled
over the wet ground. My breath sliced the air with quick and rapid urgency and
my lungs burned for me to slow down. My throat was raw; my heart pulsed at its
max. Still, I ran faster.
I was in
a forest. The lush greenery that comprised most of the northern California
coast flew past me as I ran faster and faster. The monstrous redwoods that
flanked both my left and right sides were a blur as I ran in earnest. The
spongy moss gave just a little as each foot fell heavily on its furry surface.
As I ran
faster to my unknown destination, I knew that there was no alternative to
failure. I would make it on time. My conviction was strong and I would get
there. I had to. And yet, in the back of my mind, I knew how this would end. It
always ended the same – I had been there before.
I knew
that no matter how fast I ran, no matter how much I wanted to get there, the
simple truth was that I would not make it. What I had would not be enough. I
would be too late. I wouldn’t be able reach him in time and there was nothing I
could do about it.
I never
would, but I had to try.
“NO!!!”
I sat up
with a start. The room was black. Sweat poured down my brow, my breathing was
labored. How long had I slept? Five minutes? An hour? Six hours? I had no
concept of time anymore. I glanced over at my bedside table to take a peek at
the red digital glow of my alarm clock. It was 3:23 a.m. Good, I still had time
before I had to get up.
“Honey?
Angel?” Alex sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Are you all right? I heard you
scream.”
As my
eyes adjusted to the darkness, I was able to see him. Even at 3:23 a.m., my
husband resembled a Greek god. He was of lean build and solid muscle. My eyes
wandered across his bare chest and up toward his face. His features were dark,
with a strong jaw line and a face that held perfect symmetry. The kind of
perfection that would make any woman bargain for a second glance. His longish,
obsidian hair stuck up in all
different
directions, commanding attention. He ran his fingers through it as he became
more aware of his surroundings. Looking at him, I had almost forgotten what had
awakened me in the first place. His tanned face carried a look of confusion,
turning into alarm as he reached toward me and gently caressed my arm.
“Jesus,
love! You look awful. Are you all right?” There was genuine concern in his
voice that melted my heart, and again I struggled to focus. “Kate, what’s
wrong? Are you sick? Hurt?” His voice had an edge to it. I could tell he was
losing his patience. “Kate, answer me! Please!”
Like
being hurtled into a brick wall, the sound of my name through the pain in his
voice snapped me out of my trance. I could sense his frustration and remembered
what had started this to begin with. Suddenly, without hesitation, the images
of my dream came flooding back over me like a dark, black wave. Involuntarily,
I shuddered.
“Nothing,
love,” I said, not too convincingly. “I guess I just heard a noise or
something.”
I was
not going to go into the dream again – not tonight. Every time I began talking
about it, I sounded more and more crazy while Alex became more and more
frustrated. No, I was definitely not going to discuss it.
“Are you
sure you don’t want to talk about it? You look really bothered.” The unease in
his voice mixed with a tone that let me know that he was not fooled. “What
happened in the dream this time?”
Even
though I was grateful to have Alex by my side, I did not want to go through the
details with him. Not again. Not tonight. I knew I had to be more convincing if
he was going to go back to sleep.
“No,
love,” I said in a gentle voice. “I’m fine ... really. Go back to sleep. It was
nothing ... just a noise outside ... a dog barking or something.”
His lips
were soft as I leaned in toward him and pressed mine against his. His hand rose
to brush the side of my face as he pressed back and for a moment I was lost,
not knowing who or where I was, spinning alone in a universe untouched by
anyone.
Alex had
always seemed to have that effect on me. He made me forget everything and
anything except to wonder how it came to be that I was this lucky. But I
couldn’t get lost. I had to stay focused if I wanted him to go back to sleep.
“Goodnight,
see you in the morning.” This time, I almost convinced myself.
Yes, I
was getting better at hiding the truth from him, though I was not quite sure if
that was a good or bad thing. I didn’t think much on it in that minute. For the
moment, I merely turned over on my side, my back to him, and pretended to go to
sleep.
“Goodnight,
love,” he whispered in a soft tone. I recognized the tiredness in his voice and
knew that he had believed my lies or was at least resigned to them. “I love
you.”
It would
not be long now before he was sleeping again, that much I knew. What I was not
so sure about was why I kept having the same dream over and over again, night
after night. And why did I feel this indescribable need to keep it a secret
from Alex, my own husband?
Sooner
than later, Alex’s breathing returned to the rhythmic inhale and exhale that I
had grown so familiar with, and I knew that he was asleep.
Not
wanting to close my eyes just yet, I slowly slid out of bed and quietly entered
the bathroom. I took great care to close the door as silently as I could behind
me before I turned on the lights.
The
bathroom was cold. My feet, surrounded by the soft, warm comfort of my sheets
just moments ago, were instantly assaulted by the hard, frigid flooring on
which I now stood. As I leaned over the sink, I looked in the mirror. I
struggled to recognize the woman I saw looking back at me. But who does see
themself clearly at 3:23 am?
I wasn’t
hideous looking. On the contrary, some people found me quite attractive. I
never quite agreed with them, but that was more of a personal problem. Rather
plain looking, there was definitely something to be desired.
Dark
eyes looked back at me with indifference. Dark hair framed my oval face. My
fair skin, once tight and glowing like a fine piece of porcelain, looked pale
and faded. It was during these times, the in-between times – when it was too
late to be night yet too early for morning – when I felt I could look at myself
and see the true me.
I took a
deep breath and let it sit in my lungs for a few seconds before blowing it out.
When did I get so old? Even though I had just turned thirty a few weeks ago, I
felt as if time was taking an express train across my face. Within the past few
weeks I had noticed laugh lines around my mouth, several fine lines around my
eyes, one large crease across the middle of my forehead, and four gray hairs.
The initial
shock still hadn’t faded from the morning when I was brushing my hair and
noticed the small patch of grays sitting close to the front of my hairline.
Most women probably wouldn’t have even noticed such an insignificant amount of
hair, but I did. Against the contrast of my black locks, those hairs shone
brightly and shimmered in a mocking elegance, silver trails meandering through
a black forest.
I
continued to stare at the reflection I saw in the mirror. However, it was only
a brief moment before the haunting images of my dream came creeping back into
my consciousness with stealth- like expertise.
The
dream. The reason for this early- morning bathroom visit now came back to me
with a harsh clarity.
I was
running. Yes, I was always running. I was running faster this time, faster than
any of the other times before. Where was I going? I did not know the answer to
this question, but I did know I was trying to get to him. And this time I got
further; further than I had ever gotten before. Yes, I was getting closer. That
much I was sure of. Soon I would be with him and everything would be right
again. But who? And why was I so scared? What could it mean?
All I
knew was that I had to get to him before it was too late. My future, no, our
future, depended on it. It was my destiny. I knew that I ran to save him, the
man I would give my life for. The man that would save me from what would
destroy me; and that this man, whoever he was, was not Alex. As I pushed
further into my brain to capture more details, I felt the realness of it
slipping away.
“Keep it
together, Kate, it was just a stupid dream,” I said out loud as I tried to
convince myself again, but I had already reached that quota for one night.
Ooh! I definitely want to find out what happens next...
Purchase Links:
Universal Amazon: http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00PKSZA2Ac
CreateSpace: https://www.createspace.com/5104884
Author Bio
S.C.
Alban was born and raised in Northern California. She is the eldest of three
children and often spent much of her childhood playing make believe with her
two younger sisters. However, it wasn't until much later that she knew she
was destined to be a writer.
After
graduating from university, where she majored in English literature, S.C. Alban traveled for a year. She ultimately moved back to Northern California
where she obtained two Education Specialist credentials and a M.A. in
Education. However, her passion for writing never died.
Her first break came in 2013, when she had some of her poetry published in Coalesce
Literary Magazine, an online publication. In 2014, Solstice Shadows, an imprint
of Solstice Publishing, took on her first novel A Life Without Living,
the first book in the Life Without Living
series. It was released in December of 2014. Shortly after it’s debut, Solstice
also released the first story in S.C.’s short series, The Woman Inside.
These
days, S.C. spends every minute she can squeeze in imagining fantastic realities
for her characters, who are very real parts of her life. She is an avid hiker,
loves to garden and a relentless dreamer. Both of S.C.’s titles are available
through Amazon and the Solstice Publishing website. Additionally, A Life Without Living is also available
on Barnes and Noble online.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.scalban.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/scalban
Twitter: https://twitter.com/muchasfloras
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/S.C.-Alban/e/B00QUVBTVM/
Publisher: http://solsticepublishing.com/s-c-alban/
S.C.'s Books:
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