Thursday's Interview -- Cindy Speer

Today's featured author is Cindy Speer fellow writer of fantasy with hints of other genres.

What's your genre or do you write in more than one?



I do write in more than one...I primarily write in fantasy, but I like

to mix in mystery, especially murder, and romance.



2. Did you choose your genre or did it choose you?



I have always had a fascination for magical things, for folk stories

and myths, so fantasy seemed like a natural choice. I can't write

without it, really, I'll be writing a perfectly mundane scene and

suddenly something supernatural happens. So I guess you can say it

chose me!



3. Is there any genre you'd like to try? Or is there one you wouldn't?



I don't think I could write westerns! I kind of want to try some

Science Fiction but I am not sure if I have the right education or

mind for it.



4. What fiction do you read for pleasure?



I read anything that happens to hit an interest...mostly mystery and

fantasy, but also historical novels (I'm reading Philippa Gregory

right now) or anything else that takes my fancy.



5. Tell me a bit about yourself and how long you've been writing,



I've been writing most of my life...I've always told stories, and I

started writing them down in my early teens. I've always had a very

over active imagination.



6. Which of your characters is your favorite?



That is a hard question to answer...I love all my characters, even the

ones that don't deserve it. I do want to revisit Zorovin from Blue

Moon, though.



7. Are there villains in your books and how were they created?



You always need a villain, at least in mysteries. They were created

the way any character is created...I know everything about them. You

need to...round characters are important because, while sometimes you

want to make sure that the villains are people that your readers enjoy

hating, sometimes you also need to make them more subtle, so it's hard

to guess that they are the killer. So, I guess, I use a combination

of subtlety and just treating them like any other character.



8. What are you working on now?



A novel called The Queen of the Grey. It's hard to describe...the

main character is the queen of this forest, and of all the creatures

that haunt the night, wolves, owls, and so on. A war is coming, and

they will join forces with a rag tag army to fight them back, but that

is just the beginning of the story.



9. What's your latest release and how did the idea arrive?



The idea for Unabalnced came to me because I have always loved

vampires and werewolves, but feared their story had been told, so I

tried to take another look at the lore, to create something different.

Something that would still please readers and allow me to work with

those types of characters.



10. Tell me about your latest book and how it came about. Enclose the

opening of the book around 400 words.





*************************************************



IT’LL BE SNOWING SOON, ANDROMEDA THOUGHT AS SHE PULLED HER

black cloak tighter. It was an impractical thing, fastening only at the

throat, the wind parting it at will, but she liked it. Her usual

winter coat lacked the elegance needed at these sorts of parties.



The noise from that too-loud, too-glittery party faded as she walked

up the path, her feet crunching on pale gravel. She sighed with relief at

her temporary escape. The people here were not the kind she felt comfortable

with. The food was elegant, the music was good, and everyone

was nice enough, but she couldn’t seem to relax. She kept fighting the

feeling that, any minute, she was going to do something awful and embarrassing,

exposing her to the world as the classless slob she was.



Then there was Alaister.



She looked up at the night sky and watched the clouds pass across

the waning moon. She was mad at herself for coming, for trying to

wedge herself into a place where she fit about as well as an egg in a sack

of marbles. I guess I’m just lonely, she admitted with a bit of asperity, her

eyes panning the treetops, noticing how the branches met and interlaced.

She continued along the path, the woods surrounding her. For a few

minutes, until the cold chased her back to the party, she was free. She

paused and picked up one of the pale water-smoothed pebbles. How

expensive, she wondered, would a path of all white river stones be?



A twig snapped, and she jumped. For a second, her fancy made the

sound into a gunshot. She clutched the stone to her chest, peering into

the woods on either side of the path. Thick brambles and bushes obscured

her view. She tilted her head, listening.



Nothing, she decided, considering going back. But she wasn’t ready

to face the crowd yet, and she remembered there was an old greenhouse

farther down the path. Being out alone in the dark didn’t bother her—

she’d gotten over that fear long ago.



There was a bend in the path, and when she turned along it, the

moon removed its mask. The trees were suddenly outlined in light, their

shadows so crisp they seemed tangible. The path glowed, trailing like a

satin ribbon to the greenhouse that glittered, dark and jewel-like, in the

middle of a tiny clearing.