By Trevann Rogers (Guest Blogger)
Inspiration comes from many sources yet, when we are asked, it's difficult to articulate the answer. For me, inspiration comes in a flash. A picture that pops into my mind. It can be the result of music, someone’s appearance, an outfit that catches my attention… you get the point. I once wrote a short story about one of my characters, Ria, after seeing a magazine ad with a woman wearing a grey sheath dress and red stilettos. Another scene was born when I saw a man playing guitar under a streetlight. As you can see, it doesn’t take much.
But that's only the start. The flash is often the last scene, the end of the story. I’m a sucker for those “walk-aways”. You know the ones. The main characters walking together while the world burns in the background. I think the first time I noticed it was a Bon Jovi music video. After that, I saw it everywhere. I guess I’m not the only one who liked that visual. After "seeing" the final scene the work then becomes discovering how that character becomes the person that flashed in my mind.
Fleshing out the characters is fun. Like many authors, I sometimes use real actors, posting their photos on my bulletin board or Pinterest board. Then I dress them. I often go a little wild on my Pinterest board. I LOVE the goth and leather-clad guerrilla fighters look. Since I write urban fantasy, I can use some of those outfits. Most are wishful thinking. The movie “Fast X” recently gave me an outfit I have to use—modified of course.
You might not see those outfits in Waiting for the Son. Cheyenne is a struggling musician. He can dream of those outfits but not afford them. The rest of my characters include a couple of moguls, a rich attorney, and a drag queen. For them, the sky is the limit.
Naming characters is a chore for me. I try to keep a list of names that I hear and like. But I have a lot of characters, so occasionally I run out of good names. In my first draft, I always seem to end up with characters with names that start with a "K" sound. Eventually, I rename everyone. In my first book, House of the Rising Son, I changed Karl’s name after the publisher had the first submission. I later renamed him Logan but for the entire duration of the edits, I referred to him as Karl. The editor got used to it.
Deciding on what type of beings are the people in my story can be challenging, too. In the Living After Midnight series, the beings are primarily incubi, weretigers, and vampires. Each character requires a backstory—why they are in the story and what they expect from the experience germinates in their backstory. Most of that will not end up on the page. But as the author, I must understand the character and what makes him tick.
Cheyenne, an incubus (or as he would remind me, half-incubus) was one of the first characters that came to me. The rest of the series was built around him. In the next series, some unusual beings will make an appearance, and maybe they will wear some of my favorite outfits.
After the story is populated with characters, I study that end image I saw in my mind. What must happen for my character to reach that point? What is the worst thing that could happen? I keep asking these questions for most of the book. The character must make mistakes, but their choice must be the best choice at the time.
Which is not unlike the choices I, as the author, make for the story. Only I get to redo it until I get it right. Cheyenne and the gang don't have the luxury.
Waiting for the Son
A Steamy LGBT Urban Fantasy
Living After Midnight Series, Book 3
Cheyenne, the half-human son of the Monarch, is getting beaten up on the regular. He's also fighting with his weretiger boyfriend, holding down his gig in the city's premier nightclub, and taking care of his kids. Adulting is more complicated than he thought it would be.
Someone close to the Monarch is putting the supernatural races at risk. With everyone in his inner circle under suspicion, he asks his son for help unearthing the traitor.
Cheyenne declines. He doesn't have the bandwidth, and politics is not his thing.
When his father's troubles escalate, Cheyenne has no choice but to get involved. If he succeeds, the traitor will be exposed. If he fails, his father will die, and the backstabber will be free to lift the veil of secrecy that protects them all.
Waiting for the Son is the third book in the LGBTQ urban fantasy series Living After Midnight.
Warning: This book features quirky supernatural creatures, a luncheon that makes an orgy look like a made-for-TV movie and an incubus who makes you hope what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Excerpt
The standing-room-only crowd at Underhill had been into his new songs. Guys and girls alike had been in sync with him, swaying when he swayed and smiling when he smiled. His skin tingled with all the positive energy—until a voicemail from Unakite City Elementary School sucked all the happy out of him.
Cheyenne thumbed off his phone and tossed it onto the sofa in his dressing room. No sense in getting agitated. He couldn't find out what new crime his kid had committed until Monday morning. So instead, he changed out of his leather and chains performance gear and into more comfortable jeans and a black tee-shirt before packing up his guitar.
His footsteps echoed as he made his way through the empty club to the alarm panel. Eric, the manager, appreciated the chance to leave early, ensuring he made it to wherever he lay to rest before the sun came up.
Chey didn't like the vampire and owed him no favors. He didn't have to be the last to leave, and Eric knew it. Chey stayed when it worked for him, either because a fan-with-benefits caught his eye or he needed extra time to come down from the post-concert high.
He punched in his code and turned on the alarm. A sense of peace washed over him as the whirring of the industrial fans slowed, the florescent blue lights faded, and internal doors locked with a mechanical swoosh that reverberated throughout the cavernous building. The click-click of the alarm system started a rhythmic chant signaling it was time to leave or risk being trapped inside.
The club's rear double doors closed behind him with a clang. Underhill's parking was never adequate for the number of people attending his shows, but Cheyenne always arrived early to be sure he parked close to the building. With his history of getting jumped in alleys and parking lots, he wasn't taking any chances. At least Gre'gori, the owner, had installed adequate lighting.
He headed to the Cutlass, his ever-faithful ride. She stood waiting right where he left her, dependable if not shiny and new. Not that a bit of wear and tear was a problem. It kept anyone from thinking she was worth stealing or vandalizing. One day he'd be able to afford a new ride, something bigger and fancier, but even then, he'd keep this pretty green thing, maybe give her to the kids one day so she'd stay in the family. But for now, she was all his, like his guitar, the other important inanimate object in his life.
"Hey there, sweetness." He patted her roof affectionately, placed his guitar case on the passenger seat, and froze. The acrid taste of challenge and jealousy, something like burnt marshmallow and ash, assaulted his senses.
Jeeze. Not again. Was the entire population of incubi out to kill him?
Buy Waiting for the Son at:
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/waiting-for-the-son
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/waiting-for-the-son-trevann-rogers/1143735202?ean=2940160983226
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0C9XVHZKW
https://books.apple.com/us/book/waiting-for-the-son/id6450937140
About Trevann
Trevann
Rogers writes rock star romances, urban fantasy, and LGBT paranormal
romances. Her books include HOUSE OF THE RISING SON and AFTER
MIDNIGHT: The Beginning.
Her short stories appear in the anthologies Dangerous Curves Ahead: An Anthology, and Wickedly Ever After.
Each story incorporates an unquenchable addiction to music and Trevann's love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. She writes long after the sun goes down because, like these elusive creatures, she learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.
Trevann lives in Connecticut with Toby, her 10-year-old rescue puppy, and Lil Monkey, a sock monkey who thinks he's real but refuses to chip in on the mortgage.
Trevann's internet home is www.trevannrogers.com/about
Social Media
www.bookbub.com/profile/trevann-rogers
For up-to-date information about releases www.subscribepage.com/enter_livingaftermidnight
2 comments:
Hello, Trevann -- Welcome to Beyond Romance! This book sounds great, seriously. My kind of twisted world building. Hope it does really well.
Oh, yes— twisted indeed! Thank you for having me today!
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