My guest today is debut author Tory Allyn. Hello! Welcome to Writing in the Modern Age! It’s such a pleasure
to have you here.
Can you tell us a little bit about your latest book? When did it come out?
Where can we get it?
EGO is chock full of mystery with action adventure, realistic fantasy, humorous
banter and romantic suspense peppered throughout my novel. It begins with the
discovery of a disfigured body and ends with the discovery of a live…it would
be unforgivable of me to give you the ending, now wouldn’t it?
My novel came out on April 15, 2016. One can get it on Amazon.
anything that prompted Alter Ego? Something that inspired
My father died unexpectedly and it
totally prioritized what I wanted to say about my life. Some not so important
things were relegated to the lower end of my list, allowing my writing to take
precedence. Once I made the commitment, a set time was put aside every day to
write. I found a quiet location and let the words pour from my brain. Before I
realized it, the flooding of words gave me a total of four books which is a series
entitled, THE DAVENPORT DECREES. My first novel is ALTER EGO.
Wow! Writing novels in a stream like that is impressive.
And I'm sorry about your dad. :( I know how grief can sometimes make you pour your emotions out on paper.
Let's try a different question.
When did you know you
wanted to write? Or has it always been a pastime of yours?
would always tell stories when I was a young boy. I’ve had the story line
jangling around in my brain since the mid-1990’s. It wasn’t until I committed
my ideas to paper that they took on a life of their own. With each stroke, my
characters developed personalities, qualities, temperaments, dispositions and
so forth. As you will see in my first novel, writing for a variety of men and
women is quite the challenge…but I loved every minute of it. What helped me
most was writing out a ‘grid’, as I call it. The grid allowed me to write out
each character’s name, age, physical features, education, employment,
backgrounds, personalities and how they related to the story. I used it so much
that it had coffee stains on it (I probably shouldn’t have admitted that)!
Nice! It's fun to hear about an author's writing process.
Do you have any favorite
authors yourself, Tory?
I enjoy John Grisham and Lee Child. I have recently put some Indie Authors on
my reading list. I love autobiographies.
Do you write in a specific
place? Time of day?
I have a room which is quiet where my thoughts can gather. I write in the
mornings because my mind hasn’t had the chance to get cluttered.
Are there any words you'd like
to impart to fellow writers? Any advice?
story has to be hungry to get out. When you sit to write, let it consume all
thought; just allow it to bleed from your mind. Do not worry about perfection.
That will come to fruition during the editing process. Once you have finished
the initial draft, go back and read it out loud. Awkward sentences will reveal
themselves. Always hire a competent editor (check Predators & Editors to
see if they are in good standing) and get a beta reader (one who is not a
family member) to make sure you manuscript is ready to be published. Also, buy
a mini tape recorder or have a pen and paper available because inspiration can
come when you least expect it and your memory will lose it within two minutes.
Yeah, I just make sure I have paper on hand at all times. ;)
But, this is all
great advice! Thank you for offering those words of wisdom.
And thank you so much for stopping
by to visit us here today at Writing in the Modern Age. It was so nice
having you! :)
here is the blurb for Alter Ego.
At Granite’s Mill, deep in the backwoods of Virginia, a body is
discovered with unusual physical characteristics. By morning, the media
erupts over a headline in a local newspaper, ‘The Son of Virginia’s
Governor is Missing’. FBI Special Agent Jack Stanwick is handed the
case. Realizing he’ll have to go outside the brethren, Jack marshals the
help of an old friend, Raymond Davenport, who hung a sign on a
renovated brownstone in Washington, DC, with the verbiage: Davenport
Detective Agency. To assist him, he hired three former police officers
from various precincts, who like himself, blew the whistle on dirty cops
only to deal with the fervent hostility from the brotherhood. With the
investigation under way, the detectives stumble upon a group of men
known as M.A.G.O.C., who’re muddled in a governmental conspiracy
involving a top-ranking official at the White House. With their many
resources, they dig further and unearth Prescott Chemicals. Years
earlier, the owner and his lead chemist had stolen an elixir from the
Mayapo natives of the Amazon rain forest and have transformed it into a
formula to be used in a congressional scheme. When the detectives accidentally come into contact with the new formulation, something
undesirable happens to one of them, altering his life forever.
Here is an excerpt.
Sirens echoed in
the distance as Jack Stanwick entered the rural town of Rockfort, Virginia.
Another gruesome discovery led the local boys to claim jurisdiction—but the
Bureau had their own ideas and about to pull rank. After he sliced through the
necessary red-tape and secured the needed sanctions, FBI Director Gordon Weaver
issued an order to survey the tragedy and retrieve all remnants from Granite’s
With hardly a resident looking his way,
Jack hastened through the four-way stop and hurried up Old Gulch Road. He
noticed the sparse trees had turned into a dense forest that dimmed an already
cloudy sky. So after a quick flick of his wrist, the headlights came on.
As the car gained speed, it careened
along the crushed-stone route. The loose gravel struck the undercarriage like a
hail of bullets. At the same time, the screeching cry of police horns blared
louder with each impending tread. It put him on high alert. While the
adrenaline surged, he sped over a hill and caught sight of the glaring flares
that inflamed his path, which improved his view. The crime scene now became
Jack veered off onto a dusty road and
pulled ahead of the pack of scattered cars. He shut off the engine, peered out
the windshield and eyed the disarray of yellow police tape that encircled the
crime scene. All the grave facial expressions gave weight to what lay just
Here we go
He reached over to unlock the glove
compartment and removed a mini-recording device. Once his throat cleared, he
pushed the corresponding buttons and spoke in a deep and sturdy voice, “This is
Special Agent Jack Stanwick. It’s Sunday, the twenty-sixth of October and the
time is…” He looked at his watch then continued logging the rest of his statement.
When finished, he shed the blazer and put on his FBI jacket. He shoved the
gadget into a pocket and turned it back on.
Jack unbuckled his seatbelt and thrust
open the door. He emerged from the car and was overtaken by a brisk wind that
stiffened his face and stirred his spine. With a quick zip of his jacket, he
advanced toward the group of men who had gathered around as if in a football
huddle. One of the local cops approached him.
“You must be the FBI agent?” Out came a
hand. “I’m Deputy Morton Talbot.”
Jack grasped it. He noticed how the gun
holster hung loosely around the deputy’s waist; seemingly held up by a uniform
that was one size too big.
“You got here mighty quick.”
“I drove like a banshee.” Jack turned
and stuck his head between the congregated men. “Why is everybody just standing
here?” He looked down at a body partially covered with leaves.
“We don’t want to touch anything until
Chief McAllister gets here.”
Jack pulled his head out from the group.
“Where is he?”
“The chief is on his way up from
Gallagher County. He’s been visiting his brother over the weekend.” The deputy
glanced at his pocket watch. “He should be here any minute.”
Jack was raised to be respectful, but
also knew cops from the South played by their own set of rules. If things
weren’t done their way, an investigation could come to a screeching halt and
critical clues would be lost. “I take it you haven’t started processing the
crime scene? His eyes narrowed. “You know crucial evidence is disintegrating.”
“Like I said before, we’re waiting for
Realizing the jig—a name he called the
dance—Jack prepared for another whirl. “Can’t you can initiate things?” He
wanted to plant the seed. “Aren’t you second in command?”
“Where’s my CSI team?”
“Right behind you.”
Jack spun around his head and noticed
some FBI vans from Quantico, Virginia.
“We’ve got our folks standing by,”
Deputy Talbot said. “I told your team that.”
“C’mon people, you can at least take
pictures.” He pointed down. “I need those tire marks cast.”
“Damn it!” His body wrenched. “Where’s
the camera? I’ll start this investigation myself.”
“Oh no ya won’t,” bellowed a loud, crass
voice. The man bustled his way through the crowd. “This here’s my case that
happened in my county that happened in my state.”
Jack stood in the presence of the
South’s Wyatt Earp. He was a short, portly dynamo. Stuffed in an old suit with
cowboy boots, he looked like a real hellcat. “You must be Chief Denton
This book sounds fascinating!
We'll be sure to check it out! :)
Tory Allyn currently
resides in Upstate New York. Although born in Syracuse, he was raised in the
quaint town of Baldwinsville with his brother and two sisters, who drove him
into becoming the zany person he is today. As a child, he made up many a tale.
Some funny; others dark and brooding, but all started him on the path to
writing. Today, his nephew, lovingly referred to as ‘The Monster Child’, is his
partner in crime. Most days, you will see them playing ball at a nearby park,
going for a dip in the backyard pool or snowboarding down a popular