Monday, May 4, 2009

Red Rose Publishing Author, Delilah K. Stephans


Red Rose Publishing has some outstanding authors in its ranks. Among them is Delilah K. Stephans, who I had the pleasure of interviewing. Follows is that interview and an excerpt from her soon to be released book, Sarah's Story, the first in a series of stories from The Time Displacement Corp. Also, please make sure you check out her awesome video trailer for Sarah's Story at this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1wUxeyC6HU&feature=channel



INTERVIEW:

1. What do you consider to be your favorite genre to write, and why?

My favorite genre to write is paranormal. There are so many possibilities - vampires, shifters, time travel, ghost, and more. In a world where the media tell us that men should be sensitive and "in touch" with their feelings - we women do want that - but we also want a man who is all man. Those type men are more acceptable in paranormal than any other genre but historical.

2. Do you consider yourself to be a storyteller first and then a writer, or vice versa?

That's a hard one. I guess I'd say a storyteller first - I've always told myself stories on long drives or sitting at doctor's offices. As I got older the desire to put those stories down grew, as did the desire to share those stories.

3. Do you have a favorite author and/or book, and who or what is it and why do you like them/it so much?

I have a lot of favorites, each author has something different that makes me love them.

Sandra Hill - can always make me laugh. The humor in her books, is priceless. I read them over and over again, trying to figure out how she does it but get lost in the humor.

Jeaniene Frost - her ability to combine humor and danger.

Angela Knight - for her ability to steam up the pages, and yet not be vulgar.

Lora Leigh - the sheer volume she puts out each year and each book is good.

My favorite book would have to be Night Play by Sherrilyn Kenyon - I adore Vane and Bride. That both of them are so certain no one could love them for who they are, and yet want to be loved so much. That they find it together is beautiful. I also like that Bride isn't the typical heroine - she's is as she thinks "a good solid size eighteen". I try to remember that when writing - that readers want a heroine they can relate to.
That's it for the questions, but feel free to give me a picture of your cover when you get it, and if you can tell me how to do it, I'd love to add your video for you upcoming release. And if you want to give me a short bio, that's fine. And any other info. you'd like to be there.


4. Tell us about your book.

My book is the first in a series about sn agency formed to facillitate historical research, The Time Displacement Corps and their agents. The first book Sarah's Story is about their longest missing agent.

Excerpt:

The stench of too many unwashed bodies, excrement, and blood filled the building. The d├ęcor left much to be desired. A central hallway with long cells ran along each side, women and children on the left, men on the right. At the far end sat the clerk.

The system was fairly straightforward. Auctions were once only for the cargo of slave ships, now these people were from my neighbors plantations. The reasons for their presence ranged from too many mouths to feed to a woman pregnant from her master.

I blinked back my tears at the real proof of the cruelty of man to his fellow man. The people in those cells didn’t want or need my pity. What they needed was coming sooner than their captors expected and after ten years living this life I welcomed the approach of the Civil War. Oh, I wasn’t a fool and well remembered my history. These people would never see true freedom, nor would their children or grandchildren experience true equality. But, their great-grandchildren would see the beginnings of it. How I’d love to tell them of a future where a man with dark skin could run for the Presidency, but I didn’t relish spending time in an insane asylum.

I started examining the women, and my gaze met that of a wide-eyed girl of no more than six. Thin and wiry as any child of her age, her dark brown eyes were filled with fear and curiosity.

I knelt in front of her. “Hello.”

“Hello, Miss.” Her clear, sweet child’s voice rang with caution. I wanted to yank her out of that cell, hug her close and keep all the evil away of the world from this precious little girl.

“Is your mother here?”

The girl nodded and pointed to the far wall, a very pregnant woman rose with assistance from another woman, and walked towards the bars. It was easy to see she was the girl’s mother and even easier to tell that the girl’s father had not been a slave. Her mother’s skin a deep mahogany, while the child’s was a warm toffee and the thinner nose told me her father had been their previous owner or overseer or even the son of the one of the men. “Is your father here?” I knew he wasn’t but possibly the woman’s husband was.

“No Miss.” The child crooked her finger in the age old come closer curl and I obliged leaning forward. “He sent Momma, Uncle Adam and me here.” She confided this outrage in a tight whisper.

“Would you and your momma and Uncle Adam like to come live with me?” I figured Uncle Adam was the woman’s husband. A glance over my shoulder and I could guess which man was Adam. He stood at the bars, watching me intently. Not nearly as large as Sam, he was muscular, most likely a field hand.

“We don’t got no choice, Miss.”

“We don’t have any choice.” I corrected her without thought. “You do with me. If you wish it, I will walk over to that man at the end and buy the three of you. Then you would come and live at my home. Would you like that?”

Before the child could answer, a hand wrapped around my arm in an iron grip and yanked me to my feet. I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I reacted. As I spun on my attacker my free hand formed a fist and came around hitting my attacker in the jaw. He released my arm as he fell and I stepped forward, raising my skirt. I planted my boot in his crotch. “Keep your hands off me.”

The man glared up at me as he rubbed his jaw, but didn’t move.

I took a minute to admire him. His eyes, a clear vivid blue, flashed with anger. His hair, a surprising black, was cut to military regs. It was only then I noticed the vivid blue of his uniform that hugged his very trim and nicely muscled form.

I stepped back allowing him to stand. Inside my body was humming, the man looked good enough to eat and, boy, did I want to. Ten year is quite a famine.