Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out? Where can we get it?
ALEX, the first book in this series,
is the story of a twenty-something year old psychic who's having gruesome
visions of the victims of a serial killer in the area. Through a summer of
mental anguish and physical pain, flashbacks of a tortured childhood and the
rallying of close friends, Alex wins through and helps the police catch the
killers.
THE SHED picks up immediately from
where ALEX leaves off, but where ALEX is told from his point of view, THE SHED
is told mostly from the perspective of his mental health specialist, Scott
Reid. Dealing with the scars of his own childhood, Scott is in the unique
position to empathize and help Alex as he learns to control his visions rather
than blindly following them.
Though THE SHED is mostly about the
kidnapping and brutalization of two young men and the heroes' drive to try and
save them, it also has the underlying stories of Alex's battle to have a normal
life and Scott Reid's attempt to give love one more try with Art Peters, a
local art dealer.
THE SHED came out on June 10, 2014
from Solstice Publishing.
Solstice Publishing: http://solsticepublishing.com/the-shed/
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-shed-dianne-hartsock/1119716446?ean=2940149418244
Is there anything that prompted your latest book? Something that inspired you?
When I first
wrote ALEX I hadn't planned on a sequel, but have you ever had that one
character who just wouldn't let you go? That lurks in the back of your mind
until you need to revisit them? That's
my Alex. A beautiful, complex man, a psychic, who had a need to tell more of
his story. And honestly, I was happy to oblige him. It was fun seeing my old
friends again.
As Alex's
counselor, Scott Reid was an important character in ALEX and I enjoyed filling
out his role a little more in THE SHED, giving everyone a glimpse of his kind,
lonely heart and letting you see him the way I do. I think you'll like him.
I know what you mean about characters that won't let go.
When did you know you wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?
I've always been
a storyteller, starting with the bedtime stories I used to tell my younger
brother and sister. It wasn't until first grade that I wrote one of my stories
down. It was about a giraffe who made new friends. My teacher and classmates
loved it and it was pinned on the board for a week. I was hooked! I started
writing out all my stories. Then when my seventh grade creative writing teacher
encouraged me to enter a writing contest with the local newspaper, and I won, I
knew I wanted to keep writing for the rest of my life.
Ah, so you got started at a pretty young age as well.
Do you have any favorite authors?
Too many to
name! But I like C.J. Cherryh for fantasty, Ray Bradbury for Science Fiction,
Dean Koontz for horror, Robin Cook for the medical thriller, Poppy Z. Brite for
romantic suspense, a whole slew of m/m romance writers… so many others!
Do you write in a specific place? Time of day?
Let's see, my
kids have both moved out of the house to attend college, so I've converted one
of the spare rooms into my writing room, with stuffed bookcase and art on the
walls and a huge picture window overlooking the flower garden. I'm up an hour
early for work every day to get some writing time in, then try for two hours in
the evening to write, promote, and the millions of tiny details involved with
having a published story.
Sundays are for
family and friends, and though I might get a little writing in, it's mostly
spent doing things with them. Oh, and every evening I spend with the family
before I get to my writing.
Thursdays, my
other day off, is strictly for writing. I need that day to just immerse myself
in a story or I'd never get anything done! What it comes down to is that I love
writing and so make time for it, wherever I can.
I know what you mean. :)
Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers? Any advice?
The best advice I've
ever been given and would like to pass on, is to be true to yourself and your
writing. Don't try to write like anyone else. Simply put the words that come to
you down on paper. It's the only way to find your own unique writing voice.
And never give
up! Write something every day, even when you don't feel like it. Soon those
hundred words will be a thousand, ten thousand, then before you know it you'll
have that novel down. Another quote I remember, though not who said it, says
that you can always go back and edit bad writing. You can't edit a blank page.
Keep writing!
That's great advice, Dianne!
Readers, here is the blurb for THE SHED.
As a Certified Mental Health Therapist,
Scott Reid has his share of interesting experiences, though nothing compares
with the time he spends with the psychic, Alex Elson. Plagued by terrifying
images and dreams, Alex turns to Doctor Reid in the hopes of learning to
control his visions. Instead, Scott is pulled into Alex’s world, where dreams
and reality mix and nightmares are real.
Two young men, brothers, have been
abducted from the lake outside of Oakton without a trace of who took them. That
is, until Alex receives a silver pocket watch in the mail belonging to the
elder brother, a taunt from the kidnapper for Alex to come find them. Alex’s visions
turn at once into nightmares. Images flash in his mind of an abandoned well and
a terrified, lonely boy slowly dying at the bottom. The shed looms close by,
holding a horrifying secret, a dark place Alex’s frightened mind refuses to go.
With the help of Scott Reid, Alex
endeavors to control his visions and find the brutalized victims before death
claims them. But the watch is ticking away and time’s running out.
Here is an excerpt:
“Hey Alex…” Justin’s voice trailed off,
and he put the coffee pot on the warmer and went over to him when the man
didn’t respond. Scott joined them, leaving his computer on the table as he
passed. Alex’s eyes were wide, unfocused as he stared out the window. His
breath came quickly and sweat beaded his forehead.
“What do you see?” Scott asked, voice
mild, placid.
“It’s hot here. Grass is dry.” Alex’s
whispered words sent a shiver through Scott. He sounded…detached. “The forest
is dark across the way. Crows circle above the trees.”
“Alex, where are you right now?” Scott
made the question a demand.
A shudder ran Alex’s lean frame. “I’m in
your office, Dr. Reid. I see the garden through the window. But I’m also here,
in this empty field. Talk to me! I want to come away from here.”
Scott touched his hand. “Come home,
Alex.”
“It’s hard. Something’s drawing me to
the forest. God! I don’t want to go in there.”
“Jane would want you to come home,”
Scott said firmly, using the ace up his sleeve. For a second he didn’t think
even the deep love Alex had for his wife could draw him back, but then he blinked his eyes into focus, and gave Scott a slight
smile.
“Thank you. That’s a terrible place.”
“Is it a real place, do you think?”
Alex’s expression turned bleak. “Yes,”
he whispered. “The crows were the ones from my dream this morning, and they had
this.” He pulled the soft cloth holding the silver watch from a pocket and
showed it to Scott. “It came in the mail a few days ago. No note. And now it
shows up in my dreams. There’s a connection…somehow.”
He turned the watch over and showed
Scott the engraving on the back. “There’s a picture of a man and woman inside
as well, but no way to identify them.” Alex made a discouraged sound. “Who
would send this to me? God, Scott, I don’t want go through this again. Can you
make it stop?”
Scott drew a quick breath, feeling
panicked, out of his depth. Was Art Peters right? Could he help this special
man or would he cause even more emotional damage? He swallowed a sigh. There
was no one else and Alex desperately needed hope to keep him sane during the
madness of his visions.
He exchanged a look with Justin, who
poured them all coffee while Scott pulled a chair from the table for Alex. Alex
sat and tangled a hand in his hair, dragging the bangs down to cover his eyes.
He snorted when Scott brushed them to the side as he sat beside him.
“Janie doesn’t let me hide, either. I
suppose you want details.”
“If you feel up to it.”
“Hell with that.” Justin took the chair
opposite Alex and leaned toward him, saying firmly,
“Spill.”
Alex nodded. “The dreams are different
but I’m sure it’s the same place. In this one I was standing in that field
looking at the forest. The one this morning, I was in the forest.”
“And?” Justin prompted when Alex stopped
and they watched a shiver run through him.
“And the crows led me along a dark path.
I smelled something rotten, found a child’s grave. And something else. An old
shed that terrified me for some reason.”
Justin’s eyes narrowed. “What are you
leaving out?”
“Hell, Justin! Let me tell this my own
way.”
Scott watched the two friends. Alex glared,
clearly furious, but Justin gave him a cool look in return, unruffled. Slowly
the flush left Alex’s face, leaving it pale, his blue eyes enormous. “Bastard,”
he muttered, but his voice lacked heat. “The child tugs at me. The grave would
suggest he’s dead, but I don’t think so. Oh fuck, Justin. I thought it was
over! I thought I could give Jane a normal life, be a good husband to her. If
the visions are coming back…”
Alex covered his trembling lips and
looked away from them. Scott’s heart squeezed with pity but before he could say
anything Justin slammed his hand on the table, making them jump.
“We’re not playing it this way, Alex,”
Justin informed him. “You tried to push us away two months ago. You’re trying
again. Pre-emptive strike. But I’m not going for it. I know Jane won’t either.
Now man up and we’ll see what the good doctor here suggests we do next.”
Scott blinked as two sets of eyes turned
to him, hope in one, caution in Justin’s. What did they expect him to do? He
wasn’t a detective. He couldn’t solve a crime, if any had been committed. The
pain when he bit too hard on his bottom lip recalled him from the edge of
panic.
“First things, Alex,” he said gently.
“Just now at the window, did anything warn you that a vision was coming on?”
The strain left Alex’s face and he
tilted his head, thoughtful. “I think so. These last few times I’ve noticed
that everything becomes clearer, more focused, sometimes almost painfully
bright.”
“Any scents involved? A certain odor?”
Alex looked startled, then shook his
head. “I don’t think so, though I can smell as well as touch the things in the
vision, as if I’m really there.”
“Maybe you are,” Justin put in.
It was Scott’s turn to be surprised by
an idea, but Alex scoffed. “Hardly, Justin! Let’s not add astral projection to
my weirdness.”
“You’re not weird,” Scott and Justin
said in unison, then the three of them burst out laughing, easing the tension
that had been building in the room.
Sounds riveting! Thanks for visiting us today, Dianne!
Author Bio
After growing up in California and spending the first ten
years of marriage in Colorado, Dianne now lives in the beautiful Willamette
Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the
endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play.
Dianne is the
author of m/m erotic romances, both contemporary and fantasy, the psychological
thriller, and anything else that comes to mind. Oh, and a floral designer. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she
can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and
foliage.
Links:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/diannehartsock
Twitter: https://twitter.com/diannehartsock
Amazon
Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dianne-Hartsock/e/B005106SYQ/
Books:
Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers? Any advice?
Are there any words you'd like to impart to fellow writers? Any adv
Thank you so much for having me back, Marie! It's been fun. Hugs!
ReplyDeleteIt's been an honor, Dianne! The book sounds fabulous! :)
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