By
Viviana MacKade (Guest Blogger)
How
did Guns For Angels came to life? Having tea with my mom.
True
story.
You
see, my mom is the ultimate plotter, and she doesn’t even realize
how, to me, she’s as fundamental as Scrivener or the online
thesaurus.
Especially
when it comes to suspense plots.
She
loves mystery, psychological thrillers, stories so dark I’d have
nightmares for weeks if I read them. Her? Pfft, doesn’t even blink.
When
I was plotting Guns for Angels, a few years back, we were having tea
in her kitchen and I started to say, you now, “what if this girl,
with an apparently normal life, was thrown into something bigger than
herself?”
At
that, my mom started throwing out ideas, one more horrible than the
previous - and by horrible I mean scary, where my skin would crawl at
the thought.
I
didn’t want a book that violent, but I did want something that
would shatter Ann’s world and shake her beliefs. For that, I had to
tone down mom, first.
When
she jumped on my train of thoughts, where things were not as bloody,
we got along perfectly and the plot was done in one evening.
My
mom is the go-to girl for suspense, but I have to look elsewhere for
fantasy.
I’m
plotting a huge four-book fantasy story, one of those epic things
that needs weeks (read: months) of work before one word can be
written.
Now
that’s where my mom is done. She can tell you any number of ways of
having someone killed and cover it so you’ll never be found, but
ask her about elemental powers and she’s out.
Luckily,
my brother comes to the rescue. I think he read every fantasy book
and series out there (don’t get him started on Game of Thrones
or The Lord of the Rings. No one has that kind of time). He’s
sweet, and when I run an idea with him and it’s crap he’d go,
“well, you know, maybe something else? How about…”.
Because
I’m no idiot, I listen to him.
Then,
whether it’s suspense, fantasy, of contemporary, it comes the time
to narrate the entire to story to him: my husband.
This
is where things get real, people.
Because
the man, from the heights of his scientist's mind, can spot a plot
hole, a character mis-step, and generally any weak point in the story
a mile away. He would ask questions (“why did he do this if he did
that before”), challenge my explanations (“yeah, sure, this
works. If the character is stupid.”) He’s not as gentle as my
little bro, and I’m telling you, he ain’t easy to please.
So
we go back and forth within the story, usually while we make dinner,
and solve all the trouble I didn’t see before.
At
this point, after all my family had a go at the story, I know I have
something worth working on, and that makes a whole lot of sense.
Basically,
my family is my ultimate plotting tool, and here’s an example of
what we can come up with ;D
Gun
For Angels by Viviana MacKade
Ann
My
sister was all the family I had. She was taken from me and now,
someone wants me dead, too. Not sure why.
I’m
sure I’m not going to give my life up, though. I’m not going to
let them get away with my sister’s murder.
The
new me will try, anyway.
You
see, when she was alive I could live in brightness and peace. Now I
have to accept the darkness within me. After all, isn’t life about
balance? Ironically, the man who can teach me how to embrace the
shadows is broken, hopeless, and angry. Mark is also the only one I
trust to lead me through my heart’s night, and back into the light.
The
one I trust to keep us alive.
Mark
A
favor to a teammate: pick up two girls in trouble, take them to the
Team’s safehouse. Should have been easy. It was not.
Then
someone killed one of my team, one of my brothers. Now it’s
personal.
They
want me, too.
Even
worst, they want Ann. The only person who cut through me, who woke
me, who grabbed my hand and guided me back into life one smile at the
time.
I’ll
be damned if I let them have anything.
Not.
One. Damned. Thing.
From
NY to sunny Miami, Ann and Mark run into a maze of lie, betrayal, and
death, where love is the only, terrifying certainty. And when truth
unravels, they will have to risk all to survive.
Only
99 cents until release day
Excerpt
Mark’s
voice was dangerously controlled. “When I talk, you don’t.”
Ann
mouthed a sorry, gestured zipping her mouth.
“I
was still in New York after our last case. He worried about a friend
of his, Mary. He asked me to see that she and her sister were safe.”
“Safe
from what?”
“It
looks like your sister stuck her nose into something she shouldn’t
have. Mouse convinced her to disappear for a while. We’ll
rendezvous in Savannah.”
Ann
nodded. “So, you help people, you’re borderline outlaws, and
you’re difficult to find. You guys are the A-Team. Hey, stop
glaring at me, I didn’t mean to insult you! The A-Team was very
cool, and they always won.”
“Let’s
go before I hand you over.”
“I’m
sure you’d love that. There’s just one tiny problem: you don’t
know who they are.” Ann got off the bed, and stretched her
legs before she stood in front of him, hands on her hips. “I want
to know who did this to Mary, who dared to hurt my sister, break into
my home and kick me out of it. You’re officially hired.”
He
stood, towering over her and nodded. She had the feeling that from a
man like Mark Carson, a nod was all she needed.
About
the Author
Beach
bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian
town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal
cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved
keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her
husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves
eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding,
hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family.
Find
me:
The
best way to know me is through my website (and the books I host):
http://www.viviana-mackade.blog/
Amazon
Author page is
another good place to keep up with me.
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Twitter
