Author Interview with KG Petrone

Welcome February’s Author, KG Petrone. KG provided some interesting answers to my interview questions. One of my favourites is #7. Her answer made me chuckle. When I originally came up with the question, I was thinking of my favourite historical romance novel. I was not thinking about some other genres. I definitely would have to agree with her answer.

If you are an author and would like to be a guest on my blog (here and on my website) send me a message.

 

  1. Do you remember the first book you read that had an impact on you – in what way and what was the name of that book?

Oh, goodness my first book was Ballerina Bess. I read and read that little book. I remember feeling much like Bess. I loved to dance and felt I too, could become a Ballerina.

 

  1. When did you first realize you wanted to write?

I didn’t, I dabbled most of my life writing memorials and poems. However, I didn’t know I wanted to be a writer until a story popped in my mind and became trapped in there. I began putting the story down on paper and nine months later, “Cycles of Time – Revenge is Mine” was complete and published.

 

  1. Who is/are your favourite author(s)?

My favorite authors are Stephen King, Dean Koontz and Lisa Jackson. I’m sure I will acquire a larger list as I read more stories from my peers.

 

  1. What is your favourite thing about writing? What is your least favourite thing writing?

Of course, the accomplishment of a completed story, but what I enjoy more than that is feedback from my readers. For me hearing feedback from my readers good or bad is the most satisfying aspect. On the flip side the least favorite thing for me in writing would have to be punctuation. Not too long ago I would have answered writing dialogue but I have become more comfortable with it.

 

  1. Where do your ideas come from?

The idea for my current release came from a true story I came across while doing some research. I was researching an area where I was considering purchasing a home and came across the story of Frances Slocum. The story hit a cord inside my heart, not from Frances’ perspective but from her mother’s. As I began the process of putting the story to paper the story-line evolved on its own.

 

  1. I’ve often found that creative people have more than one talent, what is yours?

I guess for me it would have to be cooking. I love to cook and have been told I’m pretty good at it. I also have a cooking Facebook page and blog on cooking where I share some of my favorite recipes. https://cookingwithauthorkgpetrone.wordpress.com/ https://www.facebook.com/Cookingfortwowithkgpetrone/

 

  1. If you could jump inside of a book for one day (as an observer) what book would it be?

Well to be quite honest, none. You see I prefer thrillers, horror, and murder mysteries. So I don’t think I really would like to physically observe any of these in this genre. LOL

 

  1. When you create characters are they completely made up or do they resemble or remind you of people you know?

My character are a mix. Some are based on people I know. The two main characters Detectives Hart and Jones from my published novel are based on two of my children. Victoria another character in my story resembles me. However, the other characters are totally invented.

 

  1. Have you ever created a character “out of thin air” only to run into someone in real life that reminds you of that character either in personality or their features?

Oh, sadly yes! As I stated in question 5, the idea for my story-line struck me while researching a location for a prospective new house.  I immediately began writing prior to the closing on my home. I created this female character Beth O’Donnell an avid runner. After closing on the home, we moved (to another state). That when I began to take notice of a woman walker who regularly passes my home. Her features are identical to that of my characters. I have yet to speak or say hello to her. I think I feel a bit guilty because in my novel she becomes a victim and killed off. The other kind of creepy thing I noticed is that two of my new neighbors (Jerry & Joe) are also two names I chose prior to moving for other characters in my novel. I did not know or meet these people until after the move just uncanny.

 

  1. What are you working on now and can you tell us about it?

I am currently working on Book two of the Cycles of Time serious. Cycles of Time – Down in the Mind is another crime mystery novel and should be released later this year. I am also about to release a monthly newsletter featuring Misty’s Memoirs. The newsletter will also contain new releases, author interviews, poetry and more. The first issue is scheduled for release April 2, 2018. (The newsletter is exclusive; if you are interested in a copy please sign-up on my blog.)

 

Links:

https://twitter.com/kgpetrone

https://www.literaryartsbykgpetrone.wordpress.com

https://facebook.com/kgpetrone

You can read some of my poetry on my blog or on one of the below links. I have also been featured in Indies Writers Review.

https://www.poetrynation.com/collections/depressionmental-health/

https://festivalforpoetry.com/2018/02/04/read-poetry-tears-for-you-by-kg-petrone/

 

You can purchase my books through Amazon.

 

 

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Some of my Favourite People

The Daily Post Photo Challenge – A Face in the Crowd

 

I couldn’t choose just one because these photos feature some of my favourite people.

Some of these pictures are a few years old and some more recent. I do think though that they fit well with this week’s photo challenge.

Fun at the Fair

Pie Eating Contest
Lemon Sucking Contest

Even the Snowman is Faceless

 

Autumn Hike

When One Door Closes….The Journey Continues

For several months I have been back and forth on a decision I felt I had to make.  Several weeks ago, I made the decision, and tonight it became final.

I decided to request my rights back from my publisher and tonight I received the reversal of rights document effectively making me an un-published author.

I do have another publisher who has agreed to re-publish my books but it will take a bit of time before that happens.

So until then, my books (Promised Soul and Playing in the Rain) will no longer be available for purchase on-line.

I look forward to this new chapter as I continue my journey.

 

NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge 2018

This is my first time participating in this short story challenge. Round 1 started on Jan 27 and all competitors had 8 days to enter their short story of no more than 2500 words. I was also given an assigned genre, subject, and character. It will be a little while before I find out whether I have made it to the next round. Here is what I came up with.
Round 1 Heat 27
Genre: Thriller
Subject: Angry mob
Character: Sick Child

Loop

 

Synopsis: For Cassidy, the struggle to understand the difference between memories and reality is a challenge.

Can she escape a villain that’s always one step ahead?

 

Blood smeared across the windshield as he rolled over the hood of the car. The sound of metal denting under his weight sickened her. For a brief moment she caught sight of his blank gaze before he fell and hit the ground.

Cassidy searched the growing crowd for her husband. Unable to find him, she squeezed her eyelids shut. The display of anger and violence outside the safety of the car made her anxious.

A raspy cry pulled Cassidy from her thoughts. She looked into her rear-view mirror and into the fevered eyes of her two-year-old son.

“Mama.” His little hands stretched toward her.

Cassidy reached back between the leather seats and touched his leg. Heat radiated through his pyjamas. They should have brought him sooner.

A loud thump caused Cassidy to jump and let out a small cry. The metal roof crunched overhead, and the car rocked. She stared upward, praying for it to stop.

“Mama,” Owen cried again.

Cassidy refocused her attention to the rear-view mirror. Owen’s face turned red. He drew his arms toward him and hugged his chest as a violent cough racked his body. A string of spit hung from his fever-cracked lips. He pumped his legs as though the action helped to draw in air. He exhaled a loud and exhausting wheeze and closed his eyes.

“Owen!” Cassidy unclipped her seat belt and twisted around to face the back. She reached over and placed her hand on his hot forehead. Owen’s eyelids flickered open; his glassy eyes stared at her for a moment before he closed them again.

Cassidy pressed two fingers against her carotid; her pulse hammered underneath.  Her free hand clenched into a fist. “Slow down,” she whispered. She tapped her foot on the floor in an attempt to expend the excess adrenaline flowing through her veins. Her anxiety mounted.

She took a deep breath and swivelled back in her seat. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. She had to find a safer entrance to the hospital. Cassidy reached for the key, a small photo of her and Owen encased in a keychain swung from her husband’s key ring.

A loud smack on the driver’s window caused Cassidy to forget about starting the engine. She flinched and turned toward the sound. A large hand pressed against the window. Its owner glared at her and shook his head. He grinned and slapped the glass again. Cassidy jumped, and he laughed.

She flopped back into her seat and closed her eyes against her tears. Her heart thumped in her ears as the car jostled back and forth. The motion made her queasy.

Cassidy weaved her fingers through her hair, clutched the top of her head, and rocked. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t,” she screamed. But her words were only for her ears. The loud mob outside didn’t hear and anyone close enough didn’t care.

She allowed the panic attack to take hold. Fear of the outside encased her physical body and warped her mind. Terrifying thoughts raced through her head as her eyes darted from window to window. The mob swarmed the car. Faces peered in at her; fists pounded the glass; hands jiggled the door handles. Cassidy continued rocking, her anguish at full peak.

“Ma-ma.” Owen choked.

Cassidy pulled her hands from her head; strands of hair clung to her fingers. She opened her eyes and looked into the mirror.

Owen’s brown eyes bulged; his lips tinged blued. His little legs drew towards his chest as his pudgy fists batted the air.

“On my God!” Cassidy spun around and squeezed between the front seats. Her fingers shook as she depressed the harness release button on the car seat.  Nothing happened. She tugged the straps and pushed the release button again. Owen’s exhale wheezed in her ears.  “Come… on!” She tugged harder. Owen’s flailing hands caught in her hair.

“Ma…” Owen tried to speak.

Cassidy stopped for a second and looked at her son. His wide and terrified gaze focused on her face. She pressed the release button with both thumbs; the click echoed.

She untangled Owen’s hands from her hair and pulled the harness over his head. His body stiffened as she pulled him into her arms. His shallow gasps blew into her ear.

The mob surrounded them; Cassidy paused, paralyzed by fear.  Bodies pressed and banged against the car. Muffled shouts of anger made her shrink.

Owen’s strangled breath drove her into action. “I have to,” she said. Her stomach rolled. Cassidy unlocked the back door and shoved it open. “Get the fuck out of my way!” she screamed as she scrambled from the car. She could not loose Owen.

Owen’s limp body flopped in her arms as Cassidy ran toward the emergency room entrance. She reached out for the door and yanked on the handle. She stared at the still closed door for a moment with Owen slumped over her shoulder. Her hand slammed against the bar; this time she pushed and rushed through the open door. Help!” Cassidy cried. Her plea alerted the staff. They rushed forward and lifted Owen’s tiny frame from her arms and hurried him away.

“He’ll be okay.” A nurse assured her. “You got him here in time.”

Cassidy shook her head. “I don’t know. The mob outside, my husband, they wouldn’t let us through. What’s going on?”

The nurse’s attention flicked toward the door. Cassidy followed her gaze.

No crowd had gathered anywhere outside. A few people strolled past on the street. Cars pulled in and out of the parking lot. Cassidy’s gaze fell on a black car parked by the curb, untouched – undamaged.

The doors opened and a couple with a child walked in. Cassidy stared at them. The woman gave her a half-smile and Cassidy nodded. She pressed her fingers to her neck; her pulsed had returned to near normal.

A hand rested on her shoulder. Cassidy startled for a moment but it did not bring the fear she’d expected.  “Let’s go see that handsome young man of yours, Cassidy.” The nurse offered her a warm smile.

“It wasn’t real, was it?” Cassidy turned and looked at the now familiar face. The ER dissolved in front of her eyes; a more sedate waiting area took its place.

The nurse shook her head. “It never is.” Her warm smile turned to one of pity.

“And that car, it’s not mine.”

“No.”

Cassidy sighed and stared down at her running shoes. “At least I put on shoes this time.”

The nurse smiled. “Come on, he’s waiting.”

“He is here? Owen is okay?” Cassidy needed reassurance.

“You know he is.” The nurse placed a hand on Cassidy’s back and guided her toward the elevator.

Cassidy nodded. “How far did I get this time?” The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside.

The nurse pressed the button marked number six and the doors closed. “Outside, all the way to that car by the curb.”

“I think I’m getting better. Don’t you?”  Cassidy ran a hand through her hair as she looked at her older reflection in the mirrored wall.

The nurse smiled. She hoped Cassidy would get better but after ten years she didn’t think it was possible any more. Cassidy’s brain remained fixed on the day an angry mob killed her husband and almost cost her, her son. She would relive it again tomorrow, and the day after. The villain in her head ensured she remained stuck in an unending loop.