I had a great time at AAD in NOLA, and part of the good time was meeting Spanish writer/journalist/blogger Yuliss July. We had fun chatting and running into each other during the convention. You can find the interview in RomanTica’s online (pages 25-27) or read the English version on Yuliss’s blog, Club de Lectura.
Here’s a screen shot from the magazine:
A little taste as a thank you for your patience. I hope to post more before long!
“Christ,” Von muttered, shifting restlessly. He heard the crunch of paper beneath his foot. Glancing down, he saw what looked like a charcoal sketch now bearing his sneaker print, a sketch with a very familiar face. He bent and picked it up.
“So now what?” Merri asked as he straightened, sketch in hand. “You got a plan B in mind?”
“Looks like waiting to hear from Lucien is plan B,” Von said, not liking it, but not knowing what else they could do. Heather might be waiting, unsure if her message had even made it through, but more likely she was trying to find a way to escape—provided they didn’t drug and restrain her again—and Dante . . . He looked at the sketch.
Dante in charcoal—with his eyes closed, jaw tight, caught in the act of wiping a dark trickle of blood from his nose with a hoodie sleeve, moonlight glinting from the ring in his collar.
A simple drawing, not yet completed, or so it looked to Von, but somehow Vincent had managed to capture not only Dante’s beauty, tension, and pain in bold strokes of gray and black, but had symbolized in that casual swipe of a hoodie sleeve, the quiet will that kept Dante on his feet, kept him moving, kept him fighting.
And at the sketch’s bottom, printed in charcoal letters: Lost.
“Is that Dante?” Merri asked, leaning beside Von, her scent electric with interest. She’d only seen Dante in photos, Von realized, had never met him. “And you’re right about the artist being good.”
“Yup, it’s Dante,” Von replied, his voice rough. He quickly folded up the sketch, then slipped it into his jacket pocket as he sent to Dante one more time.
<Keep fighting and stay stubborn, you sonuvabitch, or I’ll kick your ass when I find you, little brother. Kick your ass into tomorrow.>
But all he received was more silence slathered thick in barbed-wire and pain.
AUGUST 2013
Wednesday was more or less a free day. I had time to show Sebastian around the Quarter before the convention officially began. I also walked my Dante’s French Quarter tour route with him to see how it flowed and quickly discovered I needed to start at the spot I originally intended to end at. LOL. Being from Oregon, we rarely see thunderstorms, so we were thrilled to experience one that first day. The skies rumbled and talked and the rain POURED. (Fortunately, it was warm rain.) We stood outside in front of the hotel along with other guests and watched nature’s furious, spectacular display. The thunder was so loud at one point, I fought the urge to surrender to my primeval self and cower while babbling about the gods and their apparent displeasure with puny humans. The street filled with water that quickly surged over the curbs and onto the sidewalk and geysered up out of manhole covers. All in all, pretty damned awesome.
Earlier in the year, I had participated in the Brenda Novak’s Online Auction for the Cure of Diabetes, offering to have dinner with a winning bidder while at AAD. I was meeting the winner in the lobby of the Royal Sonesta that evening, Shelly Younger. We had dinner at a restaurant across the street that featured quick and friendly service along with marvelous food and drink. Shelly and I chatted like we’d known each other for years and I had a wonderful time, one of the highlights of my visit. I’m so glad that Shelly won the bid! I couldn’t have asked for a better evening. Thanks so much, Shelly!
Me and auction winner Shelly.
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This was my first time at AAD (Authors After Dark) and the fact that it took place in New Orleans this year at the Royal Sonesta Hotel on Bourbon Street in the French Quarter was just powdered sugar on the beignet. I had a fantastic time at the convention and met tons of wonderful people. The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly, and I’ve never had a better time at a convention. I hope to attend again soon.
Since I hate flying and try to avoid it as much as possible (and, really, you would want me to avoid it too, if you were flying with me. I’m the one sitting rigidly in her seat, clutching the arm rests with white-knuckled hands, an expression of mingled terror and determination on my face as I fight to keep the plane in the air through sheer will power, and you’re wondering if I know something you don’t and feeling the first flutterings of panic in your belly), I decided to travel to New Orleans by train. Relaxed travel. Beautiful scenery. Civilized dining. No plummeting from the sky.
My eldest son, Sebastian (frontman for Kingdom Under Fire of Portland, Oregon) was traveling with me. He’d never been to New Orleans and hadn’t had a proper vacation in years. He took the train down from his home in Vancouver, Washington on August 2nd, and on August 3rd, we both boarded Amtrak for the first leg of our journey, a 27 hour trip to Los Angeles. Now, I’d only booked a sleeper car for us going to and returning from NOLA. I figured we could survive riding coach during the Eugene-LA, LA-Eugene portion of the trip. Ha! Silly me.
Me and my laptop in our compartment on Amtrak.
Folks, always book a sleeper car if you are riding the rails for twenty-four hours or more. Trying to curl up in those seats and sleep while the air conditioning is icing your toes isn’t advised unless you’ve had a few drinks first. Then you’ll no longer care about such trivial things such as comfort and warmth.
We arrived in Los Angeles on the 4th, then took a cab to an inexpensive hotel I’d found online. Our train for NOLA wasn’t leaving until Sunday night, so I’d found us a cheap hotel. Well, relatively. It cost $135 a night, so I’m expecting something halfway decent. We stroll into the hotel and the front desk clerk is behind a cage. Never a good sign, but we’re committed. Once we’ve been given our key and the TV remote (!!!), we go to our room and I notice that the hallway is bare of carpet, just a concrete floor. Again, not a good sign. The room is stuffy, but has two queen beds, a bathroom, TV, all the basics, so I’m starting to feel better. After all, we’re only there for a short time. We’re starting to relax, watching a little TV, then Sebastian asks, “Is that blood on the dresser? Down at the bottom?” No, of course not. But I take a look and try to come up with a reasonable excuse for the dark stuff spattering the wood. Soy sauce. BBQ Sauce. Hair dye. Then I notice that the drapes have random spatters of the same dark stuff.
We decide it’s best to not mention anything about bloodstains in our room. Maybe that’s why there’s no carpet in the hall and front desk clerk is in a cage. We lock the door and go to sleep.
Sebastian at Union Station in Los Angeles.
On the 5th, we spent over 10 hours at Union Station waiting for our train to NOLA. Fortunately, the station was not only beautiful with comfortable seating, but it had several eateries and stores. The time actually passed quickly. The time to depart finally rolled around and then we were boarding our sleeper car for New Orleans. Due to the misleading angles used in the virtual tour of the compartments on Amtrak.com, the tiny size of the compartment surprised me. But it worked fine and traveling first class (all meals included) was great. And the scenery was beautiful as we traveled through Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and Louisiana. We met interesting people in the dining car and, all in all, had a relaxing ride.
We arrived in New Orleans on the 7th, taking a cab to our hotel in the French Quarter. No front desk clerk in a cage, no supposed bloodstains, just a fabulous hotel with gorgeous rooms and a warm, friendly staff. It was great to be back in New Orleans! The weather was hot and humid and full of thunderstorms. Awesome thunderstorms–since we don’t get many in Springfield, Oregon. I showed my son around the Quarter that first night. Since the convention didn’t officially start until the next evening, we had time to explore.
Sebastian in front of statues of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday at the Tucson train depot.
French Quarter
Drop by BookWenches for a fun interview and a book giveaway (open to international). The giveaway ends July 3rd and two winners will be chosen. See you there!
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I have a short AAD Spotlight interview and giveaway going on now at That’s What I’m Talking About. The giveaway is open to international and ends June 6, 2012 at 9 PM EST. Three winners will be chosen and prizes include signed copies of my books and an e-copy of “Caught Forever Between.”
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