Do you start a new story with the plot or characters first?
Interesting question. I’ve never thought about my process before, but as I reflect on my writing process (such as it is), I start with characters. They show up in my head for a variety of reasons and hang with me a while. My writing partner and I talk about them over chips and diet coke, sometimes steak and a margarita, and their stories just sort of unfold. And I’m not nearly as crazy as that sounds.
Is your writing style planned or freestyle?
A little of both. I always have an outline and major scenes planned before I sit down to write. That doesn’t mean that I never change the plan. Sometimes as I’m writing, something will occur to me and I’ll go off to explore the tangent. I try to be aware when a plot line or scene isn’t working so that I don’t try to force something that feels wrong. I often write the rough draft of by hand. I seem to be able to think better that way. But after the first very rough draft everything is done on the computer.
If you use music while you’re writing, name your favorite types.
I do use music when I write but I listen to many different types, depending on the scene and what mood I want to impart. Most of the time it’s a CD or my iPod, but I also use movies (on DVD) that I think have good soundtracks/scores. My tastes range from the heavy metal band Disturbed to New Age Kitaro.
Can you share a tip about what you do when you get stuck in creating a story?
There isn’t just one thing I do when I get stuck. Taking a break from the story usually helps. Sometimes I work on a different idea that I want to explore. I listen to music or walk the dogs. I have used tarot cards to explore ideas.
In what genres do you read?
The primary genres I read are Urban Fantasy and Fantasy in general, but I’m as eclectic in my reading tastes as I am in my musical tastes. I also read mysteries, humor, books on the writing craft and other non-fiction.
Are you a pet person and what do you have?
I currently have two rescued mix breeds, Chloe and Molly. I love cats but have asthma and am severely allergic to them. I am very interested in Animal Welfare programs and support them whenever I can. I would love to be able to do bat rescue. Those little guys are so cute!
What do you hope readers gain from your stories?
I hope readers find a connection with the characters, and that their hearts are touched in some way. I also hope that they feel the triumph and vindication the characters feels, and cheer for them when they achieve the life of their dreams. But mostly, I hope they have a good time!
Sex. Rebellion. Rock and roll.
Living After Midnight, Book 1
Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.
Alexander’s future is all set—finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who’d be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He’s barely met the woman his father expects him to marry.
As Cheyenne’s musical career takes off, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel, exacerbated by an ex-lover who can’t let go, a crotchety barkeeper with a dirty mind and a pure heart, a drag queen who moonlights as a nanny, and Alexander—who’s not sure if he’s falling for the incubus or the rocker.
Cheyenne denies who he is, while Alexander hides what he wants. Together, they learn that getting what they truly want means being who they truly are.
He spotted Alexander settling his tab and headed over to the bar. He hopped onto a bar stool next to him and winked at Eddie. “Give me whatever he’s drinking.”
Eddie swiped down the space in front of Cheyenne and set down a short glass. “Bourbon rocks, with a twist. The good stuff. Quite a change from your usual rotgut. It’s coming out of your check.”
“No. Let me.” Alexander took a bill out of his wallet and pushed it toward Eddie.
“Cheyenne, you gonna introduce me to this gorgeous side of beefcake?”
“Sure. First name Nunya. Last name Bidness.” He turned to Alexander. “This nosy old woman is my boss, Edwina, as in…” Cheyenne held his arms out and spun around gesturing towards the stage, the dance floor and the bar.
“Edwina is…Eddie?” Alexander wiped his hand on his pant leg before extending it. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. Name’s Alexander. You have a great place here.”
Eddie took his hand with a firm grip and shook it. “Here, there, I get around.” She turned to Cheyenne and pointed her thumb in Alexander’s direction. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You hear him, you tiny twit? He’s a gentleman. Be nice to this one.” Eddie leaned her impressive girth across the bar to scan the tall man from head to toe. “Remember, the store room is pretty small.”
“Oh, that’s subtle.” Cheyenne drummed his index fingers on the edge of the bar with a quick staccato beat. “No worries, old woman. He’s not my type.”
Eddie’s laughter echoed throughout the emptying bar. When it began to fade, she looked from Cheyenne to Alexander, shook her head and started laughing again. Cheyenne fed on her amusement and returned it to her. She giggled as she resumed cleaning the bar.
“What was that about?” Alexander’s confusion brought Cheyenne’s attention back to him.
Cheyenne didn’t have to look at Alexander to know the man was growing tense. He tasted it. “Crazy Old Woman Syndrome. Don’t worry about it.” Cheyenne doodled in the moisture that had pooled at the base of the glass of bourbon and then stuck his tongue into the dark amber liquid. “Ugh! Yuck!” He coughed. “You drink this stuff or strip furniture with it?”
Alexander shrugged. He swirled the ice in his glass and took a drink. “Take a little and give it a minute.”
“What the hell. I’ll try anything twice.” Cheyenne brought the glass to his lips, hesitating before taking a sip. He closed his eyes as the liquid’s warmth traveled down his throat and settled in his stomach. “I see what you mean.” He leaned around Alexander to check out the empty seat next to him. “So where’s the babe you were with earlier? Ditch you for a better prospect?”
“What?” Alexander shook the ice in his glass, and swirled it again.
Cheyenne found Alexander’s fidgeting interesting. “You were with a girl earlier. Where’d she go? She ditch you, or did you dump her?”
“Oh, that was a friend. Prudence. She didn’t… I mean, she wasn’t feeling well, so I took her home.” Alexander gulped his bourbon, grimaced and cleared his throat.
“Huh.” Judging from the delicious new jolt of cayenne he’d just ingested, he knew even talking about the woman was making Alexander agitated and angry. Why didn’t he admit that he’d been angry at her? Cheyenne filed the information away. He’d dig a little further into this curiosity some other time. “I don’t remember seeing her here before. Well, maybe you’ll bring her back sometime when she’s feeling better.”
The spicy taste of Alexander’s discomfort kicked up a notch. It was delicious. Cheyenne imagined making him furious would be mouth-watering.
“Listen, I better be going. Early morning and all that.” Alexander stood up and dropped a twenty into the tip jar. “See you around,” he said, walking away.
“Conflicted much?” Cheyenne retrieved the twenty from the jar and stuffed it into his pocket. Maybe big, sexually confused guys with money were his type after all.
Snippet from a 5-star review
“Once I opened House of the Rising Son, I fell in love with the characters, all of whom are strange in their own individual ways. They are also witty and funny and appealing. Oh, and incidentally, Incubi are also very sexy…”
Trevann Rogers writes urban fantasy and LGBT paranormal romances. Her stories incorporate an unquenchable addition to music and her love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. Like these elusive creatures, Trevann learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.
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