Michael Robb: The IAN Interview

Michael Robb Mathias has made a name writing epic fantasy novels under the pen name M.R. Mathias. His Amazon, and Barnes & Noble Bestselling e-books:
The Sword and the Dragon, Kings, Queens, Heroes, & Fools, and The Dragoneers Saga have taken on a life of their own as masterworks in the fantasy genre.

Michael's newest release, The Butcher’s Boy, is not a fantasy. It is a terrifying Haunted House/Murder-Mystery/Chiller.

In order to maintain a distance from the YA fans of his popular Dragoneers Saga, this frightening tale has been released under the pen name:

Michael Robb

IAN. How long did it take to write The Butcher’s Boy?

MR. An odd question. Years? More like 5 weeks in long hand. The NaNoWriMo rewrite and edit went fast. About 60 days, with the editing help of Derek Prior doing the chapters as I finished rewriting them.

IAN. What inspired you to write the book?

MR. After reading until I had read every book in the cell house I decided that I could write a book. I just started writing to keep from going crazy. During that incarceration at James V. Allred prison, I spent 9 months straight in a solitary cell for fighting. Later I would spend 2 calendar years in solitary at Michael’s Unit in Tennessee Colony, Tx. That’s where I wrote the 700k word epic Wardstone Trilogy and a lot of the short stories I have published under the pen name M. R. Mathias.

IAN. Talk about the writing process. Do you write at night or in the morning?

MR. At the time I wrote ‘Butcher’s Boy’ my process was to try and read 300 pages and write ten pages a day, every day. Like I said, I was in a high security solitary cell and had nothing better to do. Now I get in different grooves, sometimes writing after my morning run with my tweeting dog @MrStubbsSays, but mostly at night when it’s just me and the radio.

IAN. Did you use an outline or do you just wing the first draft?

MR. I wrote the first draft while doing time. It was a 125 page tale called Buxly House. I dug it out last year for NaNoWriMo and turned it into Butcher’s Boy. So I suppose that first draft was an outline of sorts.

IAN. How is your book different from others in your genre?

MR. It is actually gut wrenchingly scary without being overly gross. But more than that, it’s such a “twisty” and disturbing tale that it just can’t be explained without spoiling some part of the book. Even the synopsis on the book page is inadequate. Read the reviews especially the 3 star review on Goodreads.com

I like that all the reviewers say “I figured out who the killer was, but...” The main reason the book gets so scary is because of time you get to spend inside the point of view of the killer. I had to divulge him. It was intentional. You also get to spend time in the POV of the ghost, and Lucy-Fur, the Rottweiler. The dog and the ghost have an epic battle of wills too.

IAN. Is your book published in print, e-book or both?

MR. Both

IAN. What do you hope your readers come away with after reading your book?

MR. I hope the reader is entertained, thrilled, terrified. Fiction is virtual reality escapism in its purest form, projected on its best most complex screen. No HDTV or movie theater screen can compare to the mind’s eye.

IAN. Where can we go to buy your book?

MR. Everywhere that eBooks are sold online. Amazon and B&N have the nice 6”x9” paperbacks. A few book stores in Texas and Louisiana.

IAN. Tell us about your next book or a work in progress. Is it a sequel or a stand alone?

MR. Michael Robb is currently M.R. Mathias and working on the next Dragoneer novel.

IAN. Any other links or info you'd like to share?

MR. My three websites:

M.R. Mathias/Wardstone Homepage: http://www.mrmathias.com/

M.R. Mathias/Dragoneers Homepage: http://www.mrmathias.com/Dragoneers.html

Michael Robb/Butcher’s Boy Homepage: http://www.mrmathias.com/MichaelRobb.html

@Michael_Robb on twitter

The Butcher’s Boy by Michael Robb

360 pages

Genre: Paranormal Horror

Publisher: Michael Robb Mathias Jr.

Excerpt from book:

From Chapter 8

Normally Oliver would have said something reassuring like, boys will be boys, or he can’t be far, but he sensed Janet’s distress and held his tongue. Instead of comforting her, he charged around the front of the house, down the driveway, and into the backyard, calling for Michael and the dog as he went.

*** * ***

Janet stood in the front yard and turned a slow circle, first searching down the road toward the neighborhood beyond the intersection, then out into the field across the street. She needed to know that Michael was safe and was trying hard not to panic.

Am I going crazy? She asked herself. She hoped she was just stressed out and over reacting. The thought didn’t lessen her anxiety, and she ended up jogging toward the row of pine trees that separated her property from the newer houses. All that newspaper crap had her paranoid, but as she got to the end of the block, she decided it wasn’t paranoia she was feeling. It was fear. She was flat out scared. The cold lingered on the skin of her neck like a film, and she had a lump of worry like a snow ball sitting in her gut.

Remembering the train tracks and the woods beyond the neighbor’s house, she started back that way. Damn it! Where are you Michael? She was decidedly confused because she knew that Michael was responsible enough to tell someone before going too far. He always had before.

*** * ***

Oliver stopped and took a moment to think about where he would have gone if he was eleven years old. In less than a minute he knew. He approached the hole in the fence behind the garage. The patch job was nothing more than a tacked on board, and there it was lying to the side with a hammer and a coffee can full of nails. Michael could have pulled the piece of wood off with his hands. The hammer, Oliver figured, was to put the board back in place when he returned.

Although he was skinny from a dozen years of severe drug abuse, Oliver was still man-sized and couldn’t just squeeze through the hole. Instead, he used the top of the post that met the garage and pulled his body up so that he could throw a leg over. He nearly tore out the crotch of his jeans, and he was glad that no one was there to witness his awkward crash landing on the other side.

When he stood, his height allowed him to see over most of the rampant tangle that grew under the trees. Only a small portion of the yard had been taken care of, and as he took it in, he saw nothing that caught his eye. On his second scan he glimpsed movement through the window of a vine-covered shed that stood away from the house at the edge of the thicket. It seemed as if the yard were trying to camouflage the old structure, or swallow it up. He was lucky to have spotted it.

Oliver started easing over to the shed, careful not to alert Michael or Lucy to his presence. Pressing himself against the side of the building, he peeked through the glass. There was Michael, headphones on, intently trying to bust the lock on a chest that was standing against the wall. Lucy was sitting beside him, so content on watching what her boy was doing that she wasn’t interested in anything else. A few rusty tools hung from loops of wire that dangled from the rafters, and an ancient snap-jawed bear trap was nailed to the wall. It sounded as if Michael was pounding the lock with something heavy like a hatchet or a ball-peen hammer. Oliver couldn’t tell for certain because Michael’s body was in the way.

Trying not to alert Lucy with his giggling, Oliver poked his head into the partially opened door.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Oliver yelled at the top of his lungs, then slammed the door shut and held it closed while laughing harder than he had in ages.

Oliver hadn’t really wanted to shut Michael in like this, but he was smart enough to know that Lucy would tear into him as if he were a t-bone steak if she could get to him right now.

“Let me go!” Michael screamed. He was plainly terrified and the pleading quality in his voice melted Oliver’s resolve. Lucy wasn’t barking yet, probably because she had recognized Oliver’s voice. Dogs know. Oliver had startled her so badly though, that she’d bolted into the corner of the shed and was only just now recovering.

“It’s me, Mike,” Oliver said through his laughter.

When he pushed open the door, Michael looked like his heart was about to pound right out of his chest. He found Oliver literally rolling in the grass holding his belly. Lucy poked her head out beside Michael’s leg and snarled halfheartedly, which caused Oliver to laugh all the harder.

“It’s not funny!” Michael huffed.

“You should’ve seen your face, boy,” Oliver’s laugh turned into a cackle. “I bet you shit your pants.”

Michael’s face flushed with rage and embarrassment, but he casually let his hand reach back to check. This caused another fit of hysterical mirth to explode from Oliver. Lucy bounded out and pounced on Oliver then started licking him playfully.

“That wasn’t funny,” Michael said again, his anger fading so much that the hint of a grin found the corner of his mouth. “I should tell Lucy to eat you.”

“She wouldn’t do it,” Oliver replied as he got to his feet and ruffled Michael’s hair. “Your mother is looking for you Mike. She’s really worried. Why were you burglarizing the old lady’s tool shed?”

“I was just exploring,” Michael said. “I wasn’t gonna take anything. I swear it.”

“Hey Mike, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you were doing over here.” Oliver put a hand on Michael’s shoulder and aimed him toward the hole in the fence. “Just don’t get caught messing around or you’ll get in some real trouble. I’m sure of it.”

“You won’t tell my mom?”

“Why would I do that?” Oliver looked down at Michael and shook his head. A few years ago he would have already cleaned the old lady’s house out for dope money. Not anymore. “You don’t snitch on your friends, Mike,” Oliver told him. “It’s just not cool.”

Christa Polkinhorn: The IAN Interview

Christa Polkinhorn, originally from Switzerland, lives and works as writer and translator in Santa Monica, California. She divides her time between the United States and Switzerland and has strong ties to both countries. Her poems have appeared in various poetry magazines. She is the author of Path of Fire, a collection of poems published by Finishing Line Press and of the novel Love of a Stonemason, which is a sequel to An Uncommon Family.

IAN. Welcome Christa. I understand you've had a very recent book release. Please tell us a bit about it.

CP. A chance meeting between a middle-aged woman, a widower, and a semi-orphaned child in the city of Zurich, Switzerland, brings together three people who grapple with a past of loss and betrayal. Six-year-old Karla, whose mother died in a car crash, has a hard time accepting the loss. Anna, her aunt and guardian, struggles with her former husband’s deception and her shattered confidence in men, and Jonas, artist and teacher, mourns the death of his wife.

While trying to help Karla, a talented but troubled child, Anna and Jonas develop feelings for each other that go beyond friendship. The budding romance, however, hits a snag when Anna discovers a sinister secret in Jonas’s past. While the two adults have come to an impasse, young Karla takes matters into her own hands. Together with a friend, she develops a plan to bring the two uncooperative adults back together. The plan, however, creates havoc and as it begins to unravel, Karla is forced to learn some difficult lessons.

An Uncommon Family is a story about loss, lies, and betrayal but also about the healing power of love and forgiveness. It takes places in Switzerland, New York City, and Guadalajara, Mexico.

IAN. How long did it take to write the book?

CP. I wrote a first draft of a similar novel several years ago, then abandoned it. After finishing my debut novel Love of a Stonemason, I picked it up again and completely changed it. The actual writing of the second draft took about a year.

IAN. What inspired you to write the An Uncommon Family?

CP. The seeds to this novel can be found in a former manuscript I mentioned above and in my earlier novel Love of a Stonemason. After writing about Karla, the young painter, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I wanted to find out more about her life as a child and a young girl. I also wanted to get to know her aunt who raised her and her first painting teacher and close friend who became an important presence in her life. And so a new story began to take shape.

IAN. Tell us about your writing process. Do you write at night or in the morning?

CP. My favorite time is the early morning. In a way though I write all the time. I think about stories and characters while taking a shower, going for a walk or sitting together with my friends. That’s why I often look a little absent-minded.

IAN. Did you use an outline or do you just wing the first draft?

CP. I do both. I normally just sit down and write. Then after a while, I do some outlining, then go back to writing and the outline changes. Since the plot in my novels usually stretches over several years, I have to be careful about the timing. The real challenge in An Uncommon Family was the fact that I went back in time and wrote a prequel to Love of a Stonemason. In this case, I had to come up with a timeline that was realistic enough, since the events took place before Love of a Stonemason.

IAN. How is your book different from others in your genre?

CP. Both my novels, An Uncommon Family and Love of a Stonemason cross genres. They are part general fiction, part romantic fiction. They are love stories but they go beyond the more formulaic romance in that they deal with marriage, family life, as well as art and creativity.

IAN. Is your book published in print, e-book or both?

CP. As of now, An Uncommon Family is available as e-book only but will be available in print in the future.

IAN. What do you hope your readers come away with after reading your book?

CP. I hope readers will like the characters and be able to relate to them, no matter how flawed they are. I also hope they will enjoy the international flavor of the story, which takes place in Switzerland, New York, and Guadalajara, Mexico.

IAN. Where can we go to buy your book?

CP. E-book for Kindle on Amazon

E-book for the Nook on Barnes&Noble

Different e-book versions on Smashwords

The book can also be ordered from My Website

IAN. Tell us about your next book or a work in progress. Is it a sequel or a stand alone?

CP. I’m working on a possible third book in this Family Portrait series. I am also in the process of translating my novels into German, so they would be available for readers in the German speaking world.

IAN. Any other links or info you'd like to share?

CP. Yes, I would love my readers to drop by my website as well as my blog (and click the Follow button on my blog!)

An Uncommon Family by Christa Polkinhorn

Page count: abt. 200 pages

General fiction/Love Story

Bookworm Press

Excerpt from book

Chapter 1

Karla licked the crispy cone, trying to catch the sliding droplets before they hit the ground. The raspberry ice cream was a dark purple, her favorite color. She wrinkled her nose as she caught another whiff of exhaust from the busy street along the Limmat River in the city of Zurich. It was August and hot in Switzerland. The six-year-old girl scanned the scenery in front of her with dreamy eyes.

A longish canoe was sliding by a tourist boat on the river. People with funny-looking sun hats and dark glasses sat on the benches of the boat. Along the river on the other side, the built-together stone houses looked like a row of uneven different-colored teeth, gray, yellow, white, and some with a tint of orange. Behind the houses, on top of the hill, the linden trees at the park shimmered in their pale-green foliage and a curtain of dark-green ivy hid part of the gray granite wall.

Karla took another lick from her ice-cream cone, then turned around and peered through the window of the art shop, where her aunt picked up two framed pictures. When she looked back at the sidewalk, her breath caught.

“Mama?” she whispered.

She saw the woman only from behind, but the bounce in her step, the long, reddish-blond hair flowing down her back, swaying left and right, the tall, slender figure—it must be her mother. She tossed the rest of the ice cream into the trash can, got up, and ran after the woman.

“Mama!” she called as the woman got ready to cross the street. The light turned from blinking red to solid red, just as the woman reached the other side. Karla rushed after her, barely aware of the honking around her or of the shrill warning bell of the blue-and-white streetcar. She heard someone yell at her but by then she had arrived at the other side. The woman was walking along the river toward the Lake of Zurich.

“Mama, wait!” Karla bumped into someone.

“Watch it, kiddo.” A man stepped aside.

“Mama . . .”

The woman finally turned around and looked back, scanning the people behind her, then walked on. Karla stopped dumbfounded. It was the face of a stranger.

A wave of despair washed over her. Not believing that she could have been so wrong, she started to run again. She didn’t see the slight indentation in the pavement. As she fell, she barely noticed the searing pain in her knees; the disappointment hurt more. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Mama would have helped her. Mama would have picked her up, hugged her, and even sang a little tune to her to make her feel better. But her mother was gone.

“Are you hurt, honey?” a dark voice said. Karla felt a hand on her back. “Come on, let me see.”

A pair of strong arms lifted her up. She looked into a face with a gray-white beard and kind, blue eyes below thick tufts of eyebrows. The man was tall and sturdy. He had wildish white hair. He reminded her of Saint Nicholas. But it was summer and Saint Nicholas only appeared in December.

“Are you here alone?” he asked. “Where’s your mother?”

The question brought a new flood of tears. “I thought it was Mama,” Karla managed to say, her chest heaving with sobs.

“Karla, what happened? Why did you run away?” Aunt Anna came rushing toward her, clutching her purse and a large package. “I thought I’d lost you. Jesus, what happened to your knees?” She bent down, put the package on the concrete and examined Karla’s legs. Brushing a strand of wavy brown hair out of her face, she peered at the man with gray-blue eyes, the color of ice. “What’s going on here?”

“I just happened to walk by when she fell,” he explained. “She said something about looking for her mother. Are you her mother?”

Anna shook her head. “No, I’m her aunt. Her mother . . . died half a year ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” The old man gently touched Karla’s cheek. “But she thought she saw her mother.”

Anna sighed. “She still hasn’t accepted the truth.” She turned to Karla. “Tell me what happened, sweetie?”

Karla told her between sobs that a woman had walked by who looked exactly like her mama.

“But you know that’s not possible, don’t you?” Aunt Anna hugged her. Karla leaned her face against Anna’s chest and poured her sorrow into her sweater. It was soft but didn’t smell like her mama’s. Anna waited for her to calm down. “We have to take care of your knees.”

“There’s a pharmacy right over there. I’m sure they have something to clean the wound and some bandages. May I?” Saint Nicholas gave Anna an inquiring look.

Anna nodded and the man lifted Karla up. His thick hair tickled her cheek. Karla wrinkled her nose. He gave off a faint whiff of smoke, which reminded her of Anna’s woodstove. It felt a little comforting.

At the pharmacy, a friendly lady took care of Karla’s knees. She wiped them clean, trying not to hurt Karla, who flinched and gave an occasional sob. “Sorry, hon, but we don’t want it to get infected.”

While the woman bandaged Karla’s legs, Anna unwrapped the package she had been carrying. She handed Karla one of the pictures and held the other one up for her to see. “Don’t they look beautiful?”

Karla nodded with a weak smile. They did look nice. She barely recognized them again behind the glass and surrounded by a fine wooden frame. One of them showed a woman, sitting on a chair and holding a little girl in her arm. The woman had long reddish-brown hair and the girl’s hair was black. They were sitting in front of a house. The stones in the wall had an irregular shape; they looked a little bit like cobblestones. It had taken Karla a while to make them look right. The other picture showed a tree with large purple and cream-colored blossoms. It was the chestnut tree in front of Karla’s old home. She had painted the pictures with her favorite pastel pens.

“They’re gorgeous,” Saint Nicholas said in his deep voice. “Who painted those?”

“Karla did,” Aunt Anna said.

Saint Nicholas stared at her, then at the pictures, then at Karla. “How old is she?”

“Six,” Karla said, brushing the last tears off her face. Anna handed her a Kleenex.

“And she painted those by herself, without help?” The man squinted as he scanned the pictures. The wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes deepened. He truly did look like Saint Nicholas.

“Yes,” Anna said.

“This child is very talented. Does she get any instruction?”

“I’m actually looking for a teacher for her. She loves to draw and paint. If it was up to her, she’d do it all day long. And it seems to help her with . . . you know, the loss.”

“Amazing.” Saint Nicholas shook his head and continued to scan the pictures. “Well, I happen to be a painter myself. I also teach a few children.” He looked at Karla and Anna with a serious face. “I’d love to have her as a student.”

Amazon.com

Michelle I. Brooks Takes "Bone Dressing" on a Blog Tour

Time is running out … the Dark that's been chasing Syd for many lifetimes has finally caught up with her …

Sydney Roberdeau lost her parents as a young girl. Waiting for her life to start and the freedom that will come with her eighteenth birthday, Syd spends much of her time haunting the local cemetery. It is there, stretched out among the dead, that she feels most alive, most at home. Until one rainy night when Beau, Sarah and T.J. crash her ghostly sanctuary, appearing out of nowhere, turning her already inside-out world one degree past upside down.

Syd must now revisit past lives, dressing in the bodies of her previous selves … bone dressing. Her only chance to outrun the evil breathing down her neck is to face her own worst nightmares and her strongest desires. But if she can’t stay out of trouble in this life, how can she possibly fix mistakes from past lives? And just how many lives has she lived, loved and lost? What is Syd exactly, and what will she risk for the life of a man she doesn’t remember, the man she spent a lifetime with, the man she loves? Everything … including her very own life?

Bone Dressing, the first in a series of seven books, will carry Syd and Beau on an adventure that transcends life itself.

A Blog Tour with Novel Publicity.com

"Bone Dressing" Blog Tour Stops June 6-17

Monday 6-Jun Muse Shack

Tuesday 7-Jun O about That

Wednesday 8-Jun My Writer’s Cramp

Thursday 9-Jun Life is Short – Write it all down

Friday 10-Jun Literary Magic

Saturday 11-Jun The Belle of Boise

Sunday 12-Jun Persistent Writer’s Blog

Monday 13-Jun ¡Miraculous!

Tuesday 14-Jun Courtney Conant’s Blog

Wednesday 15-Jun Writing Wonder

Thursday 16-Jun Triumphal Writing

Friday 17-Jun Lucy Felthouse’s Blog

Amazon/Kindle

Jeannie Walker on BLOGTALK RADIO

Join me Friday, June 3, 2011 9:00 A.M Pacific Daylight Time-11:00 A.M. CDT/ 10:00 A.M.MDT/ 12:00/Noon EDT for a blogtalkradio program that will have you riveted to the show as I talk about the unexplained phenomena and supernatural elements that permeate this TRUE crime drama.

Call 347-994-1903 to listen or press 1 to join the conversation and talk to the author. The chat room will be open on theblogtalkradio website where you can listen to the show and ask questions in the chat room. Carra Riley - http://cosmiccowpie.com/

"Fighting The Devil" is a True Crime story of consuming passion, deadly poison and murder written by Jeannie Walker.

Jeannie Walker is an Award Winning Author -

• Walker's Debut Novel is the 2011 NATIONAL INDIE EXCELLENCE AWARDS TRUE CRIME FINALIST and

• 2010 FOREWORD MAGAZINE BOOK OF THE YEAR TRUE CRIME FINALIST

The Indie Excellence Awards are reserved for the “best of the best” in books published in various genres. The criteria for recognition are stringent and include overall excellence in presentation. This award celebrates the highest achievements in independent press and self-publishing, a sector of the industry that has grown exponentially in recent years.

"Fighting the Devil" is a saga of murder, abuse, embezzlement, poison, and premonitions. Readers who enjoy suspense, strong female leads, and crime drama, will cling to every word.

Jeannie Walker is a real-life Sherlock Holmes. She follows the evidence to "Fight The Devil."

Jerry Sternadel, a self-made Texas millionaire, Jeannie's ex-husband was poisoned to death in 1990. While hospitalized, he told nurses and doctors alike that he was being poisoned. The staff did not heed his frantic pleas, allowing the suspects continued access to him as he lay dying in the hospital.

No arrests were made for three years. Read about the woman ultimately convicted of first-degree murder and then sentenced with only a fine and a lengthy probation. The convicted murder was finally sent to prison a full 13 years after she committed the murder because she violated her probation.

To this day, a main suspect has yet to be brought to justice. There is a twisted triangle "hate" that will chill you to the bones.

Walker, who played a key role in helping law enforcement investigate many aspects of the murder, says she felt compelled to write the book. "I owe my ex-husband a voice, as he no longer has one," she says, adding that "when I see injustice, I want to fight it." She continues that fight now by raising new awareness of her ex-husband's case. The ex-wife-turned sleuth and author says that she hopes fans of crime stories have an appreciation of the pain, trauma, and grueling battle for justice that the family and friends of real-life victims experience. Additionally, she wants them to realize that if their lives are ever touched by anything as horrific as a murder, "they have the ability and right to become their loved one's advocate, and to become their own, real-life Sherlock Holmes."

This is a must listen to show as some day you might be seeing the story on the BIG SCREEN!

Jeannie Walker's story aired on TV as a segment of The True Crime Story on "Current Affair" and "SNAPPED" Season 1, Episode 12:

Twenty years after the murder, Jeannie Walker penned "Fighting the Devil". Walker had fought the devil even before her ex-husband was murdered, but was she prepared for the unexplained phenomena of the evil supernatural being from the belly of hell?

Connect with the Author of "Fighting The Devil," Jeannie Walker:

facebook

twitter @JeannieWalker1

buy the book on Amazon

Jeannie Walker website

Video book trailer

John W. Huffman: The IAN Interview

John W. Huffman talks about his latest novel and how a journal he kept during his combat tour of duty in Vietnam in 1966-67 became an award winning novel in 2011.

John W. Huffman was born in Hemphill, Texas, attended elementary school in Pineland, Texas, junior high and high school in Jasper, Texas, and graduated summa cum laude from Embry Riddle Aeronautical University.

John enlisted in the Army Airborne in 1966 and served two tours of combat duty in Vietnam, the first as a private, and subsequently a sergeant, with Alpha Company, 1/27th Infantry, 25th Infantry Division, in 1966-67, the second as an officer/aviator with the 120th Aviation Company in 1972-73. He retired as a major in 1986 with three Purple Hearts, three Bronze Stars, sixteen Air Medals, one Army Commendation Medal, two Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry Medals, and various other service and campaign ribbons.

Upon retiring from the military, John launched a real estate sales and management company, SouthCorp Properties, Inc., which he still owns and operates today. He previously owned and operated seven speedways in five states, created an automobile racing and sanctioning body, the American Racing Association, and developed three touring series.

In 2010 John won two Next Generation National Indie Book Awards for A Wayward Wind and Tiger Woman, and one National Indie Excellence Book Award for The Baron of Clayhill. In 2011 John’s Above All won a Next Generation National Indie Book Award, and America’s Diplomats won a National Indie Excellence Book Award. His latest novel, Searching For Leah, is scheduled for release in July, 2011.

IAN. Please tell us about your latest book.

JH. America’s Diplomats powerfully portrays the Vietnam conflict’s initial phase when patriotism still reigned supreme. All wars spawn simple heroes from youthful naivety as boy-soldiers evolve into weathered combat veterans. Young Jay Sharpe is no exception. Born into a long lineage of patriots, he never questions his generation’s call to arms. Filled with wanderlust and rarely sure of what he wants, but knowing precisely what he does not want, a predictable marriage to his high school sweetheart and looming job at the local sawmill in his small hometown after graduation, he gallops off to the nearest Army recruiter to become Private John Joseph Sharpe, All-American hero. After rigorous training, he emerges as one of the Army’s elite paratroopers and eagerly sails off to Vietnam and the golden opportunities awaiting him there—a near fatal encounter with the 9th North Vietnamese “Ghost” Regiment in the legendary battle of Attleboro, the largest land engagement of the entire war effort. His gripping tale of the trials of a soldier in our nation’s most controversial confrontation is a graphic chronicle of love, hate, hope, and despair in an era of uncertainty and misdirection.

IAN. How long did it take to write the book?

JH. I wrote the first draft of this novel as a memoir and rewrote it in 2010 as Military Fiction.

IAN. What inspired you to write America’s Diplomats?

JH. There were two reasons I wanted to write this book. First, for my son, and second, to honor the men I served with. Attleboro was the largest ground battle of the Vietnam war and my company played a key part in it, which was all but covered up in the official army after action reports, which can be read on Wikepedia. I encourage you to read that after action report on the Battle of Attleboro before you read America’s Diplomats, and then reread it after you finish reading the novel.

IAN. Talk about the writing process. Do you write at night or in the morning?

JH. I write almost every day, starting early in the morning and finishing when I am tired or run out of words. Sometimes I write two or three hours, at others ten or twelve hours.

IAN. Did you use an outline or do you just wing the first draft?

JH. I wrote this story from a journal I kept during my tour of duty as an infantryman in Vietnam in 1966 - 67.

IAN. How is your book different from others in your genre?

JH. It portrays a side of Vietnam that has never been written about from the eyes of a private serving in combat.

IAN. Is your book published in print, e-book or both?

JH. It is in paperback , Kindle, Nook, and all other ebook formats.

IAN. What do you hope your readers come away with after reading America’s Diplomats?

JH. A very real perspective of Vietnam and the American soldiers who fought there.

IAN. Where can we go to buy your book?

JH. Amazon.com carries it in paperback and Kindle format, Barnes and Noble in paperback and Nook, and Smashwords carries it in all ebook formats.
You can also purchase it through Goodreads and The Independent Author Network, or receive signed copies from my website, http://www.johnwhuffman.com

IAN. Tell us about your next book or a work in progress.

JH. I am currently putting the finishing touches on Searching For Leah, which is a love story about a witch and a race car driver.

IAN. Any other links or info you'd like to share?

JH. You can find me on Facebook and Twitter under John W. Huffman.

America’s Diplomats, The Road To Attleboro by John W. Huffman

Page count: 568

Genre: Military Fiction

Publisher: Createspace

In the five hundred years following the Burning Times, the colorful members of Council have attempted to govern their Craft, once the most powerful religion on earth, with their twelve individual tribal members while they await the enlightened one, a thirteenth member who holds genetic links to each of the twelve tribes. Forced to practice their craft in secrecy due to the persecution and false accusations of other religions until the modern era, they are now viewed as something of an amusing oddity, if not outright lunatics, by society in general. By chance, they discover Clint Long, a rakish, devil-may-care racecar driver who carries eleven of the genetic links and Council hastily adapts a somewhat dubious plan to gather his seed to complete the long sought after twelfth linkage. In this noble quest, they select Leah as the vessel to bear his child, a young, beautiful maiden raised in the swamps of Louisiana and home-schooled by her mother with virtually no contact with the outside world. When Leah’s ancient godmother mistakenly casts a love spell in addition to the sanctioned spell of lust, what follows is a hilarious, heartwarming adventure as Clint whisks Leah out of her protected environment into his fast-paced, problematic world while the Council valiantly tries to keep up and subtly influence the outcome.

David K. Hulegaard: The IAN Interview

Author David K. Hulegaard discusses his debut novel, Noble and his writing and publishing journey.

David K. Hulegaard is an author and student of film and music. From an early age, he was encouraged by his parents to read a little bit each day, and developed an extensive imagination while burying his nose into a mixture of R.L. Stine books and literary classics.

With an established professional background in the real world of category management, consultation and marketing, he felt unable to quench the thirst for creativity he'd been harboring for years. This led to the release of his debut novel Noble in October 2010.

Hailing from the postcard-perfect Pacific Northwest, where he currently lives with his fiancé, there is never a shortage of inspiration. Citing a variety of influences, he loves to dabble within many different genres and settings to tell a story.

IAN. Hi David. Let’s begin with a bit about Noble.

DH. Noble is the story of a small town private detective named Miller Brinkman and his quest to solve the case of a missing teenage girl. Like any good detective, Miller simply follows the clues in an effort to solve the case, but accidentally stumbles across a connection between the missing girl and something much, much bigger. Every instinct tells him to back away, but he’s too emotionally invested in the case to turn back. He begins to uncover traces of a secret organization that had remained hidden for years, which then attracts the attention of a mysterious ally named Puckett. Impressed by his exceptional investigative abilities, Puckett leaves a trail of bread crumbs for Miller to follow that lead to all the answers he seeks, but he will first have to crack Puckett’s grand riddle in order to get there. With every piece of the puzzle that Miller solves, it only leads to more questions. Who is Alyssa Noble and why does her name keep coming up at every turn? What is her involvement in the disappearance of Jane Emmett? Who are the men in black suits that appear to be following Miller’s every step? To answer these questions, Miller will be forced to suspend all reality as he knows it and open his mind up to the possibility of a whole other reality beyond his comprehension.

IAN. How long did it take to write the book?

DH. I wrote the first draft in about three months, but then the editing and rewrites took me another three. I’d say from start to finish, I came in at just under six months. Once I got going, the excitement made it impossible to slow down.

IAN. What inspired you to write the book?

DH. I love a good story and I had wanted to tell one of my own since I was a child. My life was forever changed after being introduced to creative writing in grade school. We had these books made of construction paper covers and college rule sheets and were instructed to write for thirty minutes every day. It was my absolute favorite part of the day. I even still have the books, but they’re embarrassing to read now days. J When I finally sat down to begin work on Noble, it was just the right combination of time and content. I was letting my day job consume too much of my life and the years were just passing me by. I felt like if I didn’t take the time to do it now, I probably never would. I had been sitting on the main idea for the book for over a year, but it was very raw. I saw potential, but I needed to give it substance. Creating and shaping the characters, connecting the dots between the plot points. There’s really nothing else quite like it.

IAN. Talk about the writing process. Do you write at night or in the morning?

DH. My style might be considered a little unorthodox, but it works for me. I need to write when it’s quiet, so that fluctuates between day and night on a daily basis. I start with the brainstorming process and jot down all of ideas I have in my head. From there I continue to add to them until I feel like I have enough to begin the outline process. After the outline is complete, next up is the first draft. I write the first draft in its entirety without re-reading a single word. I know there are errors in both spelling and grammar, but stopping to correct them would only slow me down. It’s more important to keep the creative juices flowing and fix the mistakes later. When the first draft is done, I print it out and mark it up with a red pen. I take those corrections back to the computer with me and create the second draft. From the second draft, I pick 2-3 proof readers to help me stamp out all those frustrating little mistakes that my brain refuses to see. I then take those corrections and create my third, and hopefully final, draft. The important thing to understand is that you’ll always be your worst critic and will nitpick yourself to death. At some point, you just need to be happy with what you’ve created and share it with the world.

IAN. Did you use an outline or do you just wing the first draft?

DH. I can’t even imagine trying to write without an outline! The outline is a handy way to slot your ideas into an order that makes sense from a continuity perspective, but also to make sure your story is paced appropriately. Early on, my outline is my best friend. It helps you to visualize where your story may be heavy in some areas and light in others.

IAN. How is your book different from others in your genre?

DH. My influences are about as diverse as they come, so I wanted to try and extract a little bit of inspiration from all of them and attempt to blend it all together. Sometimes you also need to look beyond books for inspiration. There are good stories available within all different types of media and the television show Lost was also a big influence on me. I believe what makes my book stand out is that there’s a little something for everyone, so it doesn’t have to appeal to just one type of audience.

IAN. Is your book published in print, e-book or both?

DH. Both! Noble is available in standard paperback and e-book, but there’s also a hardcover version available exclusively at FastPencil.com.

IAN. What do you hope your readers come away with after reading your book?

DH. I hope this doesn’t sound too generic, but legitimately, I just want my readers to come away feeling as though they’ve experienced a good story. There is an endless supply of books out there begging for a reader’s attention, so I want the reader to feel justified in investing their time in my book. If I’ve done my job correctly, they’ll have some type of connection to the story that doesn’t end when they close the book. I love it when people finish Noble and say things to me like “your book gave me a sudden craving for apple pie,” or “I’m so mad at you right now!” It’s the most flattering thing in the world when your words can leave the reader with some type of reaction.

IAN. Where can we go to buy Noble?

DH. It is available on Amazon.com in both paperback and Kindle, on barnesandnoble.com in both paperback and Nook, on the iBook store for iPad/iPhone in e-book, and on FastPencil.com in paperback, e-book, and the exclusive hardcover edition.

IAN. Tell us about your next book or a work in progress. Is it a sequel or a stand alone?

DH. Noble is the first book in a planned trilogy and I hope to publish the second book by the end of the year. I am currently working on a novella entitled The Jumper, which is going to be available in the next couple of months. If you like ghost stories, this one’s for you! It’s about a middle-aged man named R.C. Dawson, whose retirement plan goes awry when the real estate market collapses and he’s forced to take on a job to make ends meet. The only job he can get at his age is a night custodian position at the youth community center downtown. They’ve been having some trouble keeping the position filled for very long, and R.C. is about to find out why first hand.

IAN. Any other links or info you'd like to share?

DH. Being an independent author is hard work because we don’t have the thousands of dollars in marketing support from a major publishing house. What we do have is all the heart, passion, and talent in the world! I realize that asking a reader to invest their hard-earned money into an unknown and unproven author is a tall order, which is why I’ve decided to release the e-book version of Noble at just .99 cents. I want readers to feel comfortable investing in my hard work, and I am confident that at just four quarters, readers will easily get their money’s worth in enjoyment.

I would encourage readers to keep an eye on my website over at www.davidhulegaard.com and to follow me on Twitter @HulegaardBooks.

Noble by David K. Hulegaard

Page count: 256

Genre: Mystery/Sci-Fi

Publisher: FastPencil

Excerpt from book:

The day had been passing by quickly and the sunlight from outside was starting to dim. Soon the station would be dark and I would be spending another night alone lying in wait for Sheriff Coleman’s next move. Though I knew it was selfish, I began to shed a few silent tears. I doubt most people ever imagine that their lives will eventually succumb to misfortune, but it would have been an understatement for me to say that I never saw my life going in the direction it had. I was mortified at the thought of living out the rest of my life as an innocent man in a prison, but it was more than that. I had let my parents down and that hurt worse than anything Sheriff Coleman could do to me. They would not have wanted the life of a private investigator for me. They were so convinced that I would go on to become a writer working in the city for a living, but I only humored them to make them happy. I never saw that for myself. They wanted me to use my gift of creativity in life and I wanted to use my desire to help people in need. In the end, neither of us got what we wanted.

Just as I was beginning to lose myself in my lament, I heard the sounds of someone jiggling the handles of the front door. I figured it must have been Sheriff Coleman coming back to rub his master plan in my face some more, smug son of a bitch that he was. Finally the doors opened and then closed quietly behind him. It was now dark in the station and I couldn’t see his face, which was fine by me. I had seen his face about as much as I could stand to and relished in the fact that never seeing it again was one perk of being sent to a state prison away from Ashley Falls. It was strange though. He hadn’t said a word since coming into the station.

“What’s the matter, Sheriff? Did you decide that a knife would have been a more practical murder weapon after all?”

There was no response. I could see the outline of a figure walking towards me and could hear the sound of footsteps moving along the tiled floor, but couldn’t make out any features. Suddenly there was a loud bang on the floor right outside my cell. I knelt down to see what it was. It was a set of keys for the station that the sheriff kept on a hook near the front door for the deputies to use, but why was he giving it to me? I stuck my arm out between two bars of the cell and reached the key ring. There was no mistaking that these were definitely the keys to the station, including the one that would open my cell.

“You’re not the sheriff. Who are you?”

Again, there was no response, though I could still plainly see the outline of the figure standing in the hallway no more than twenty to thirty feet from me. It was too hard to make out specifics, but the figure appeared to be wearing a dark trench coat and a short-brimmed fedora. I was positive that I was not in the presence of the sheriff, but according to him, he was the only person that even knew I was here. If not him, then exactly who was this standing before me?

“Kind sir, I am appreciative and mean no disrespect, but why are you helping me?”

Again, I was receiving no response. Whoever this person was apparently wasn’t big on small talk, but I was grateful for the help none the less. There were about ten keys on the loop in my hand, so it was going to take a few minutes to find the right key and get out. As I began to try out the different keys, I pondered what would be the first task at hand once I had my freedom. Based on what Sheriff Coleman had told me, I knew that he would be at Sunset Hill putting the finishing touches on his frame job. He would eventually head back to the station however and would surely not be happy to see that I had escaped. No matter what I would do next, I couldn’t simply just return home.

“Miller Brinkman.”

I was quickly pulled away from my thoughts by the sound of an unfamiliar and deep voice. It was a commanding voice that startled me to the point of dropping the key ring back on to the floor.

“Miller Brinkman… the answers to all of your questions begin in Baltimore.”

“Baltimore? Sir, is that where Jane Emmett is? Who are you?”

The man dropped something on the floor, then turned and walked away. I heard the sounds of the front door open and close again. Just like that, this mystery man was there and gone. I had many questions about what had just happened, but time was of the essence at that point. If there was still time to stop Sheriff Coleman from setting me up, then it was clear to me that my next move would be to try and beat him to Sunset Hill. Since he could not know that I was free, there would be no sense of urgency on his part to get there. I could use that to my advantage.