Archive for November 16th, 2009
Interview with Mary Balogh, author of “A Precious Jewel”
November 16th, 2009 | 
Author: 
Join Mary Balogh, author of the Regency romance novel, A Precious Jewel (Dell, November 2009), as she virtually tours the blogosphere in November on her first virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book Promotion!
MARY BALOGH is the New York Times bestselling author of the acclaimed Slightly series and Simply quartet of novels set at Miss Martin’s School for Girls, as well as many other beloved novels. She is also the author of First Comes Marriage, Then Comes Seduction, At Last Comes Love, and Seducing An Angel, all featuring the Huxtable family. A former teacher, she grew up in Wales and now lives in Canada. To learn more, visit the author’s website at www.MaryBalogh.com.
Interview:
Could you please tell us a little about your book?
A PRECIOUS JEWEL is a Regency-era romance with a difference. The hero, Sir Gerald Stapleton, is a beta male whose self-esteem was taken from him during childhood by a cold, insensitive father and a stepmother who betrayed his love and trust. He is afraid of relationships and so satisfies his needs with frequent visits to a high-class brothel. The heroine, Priscilla Wentworth, well-born but forced by circumstances into prostitution, becomes his “regular” and later his mistress. It is not an auspicious beginning for a love story, but that is what their story becomes. I love to take on a challenge as a writer, and there was none greater that this.
Did something specific happen to prompt you to write this book?
Gerald was a minor character in THE IDEAL WIFE, best friend of the hero. In that book he was struggling with the loss of his long-term mistress (Priscilla), who had left him to marry a former beau. My mind played with the usual what-ifs as I wrote THE IDEAL WIFE. What if Gerald really loved Priscilla? What if she really loved him? What if the former beau and impending marriage were fictitious, an excuse to get away from a liaison that had become intolerable to her? What if…
Who or what is the inspiration behind this book?
The inspiration was THE IDEAL WIFE and the minor character who intrigued me to such an extent that I had to tell his story. Actually, his story became an obsession with me. I knew I could not write it. Gerald was not the alpha male readers expect their heroes to be. Priscilla was a working prostitute. It was all quite impossible. A few fellow writers on whom I tried the idea agreed with me. I did not even ask my editor about it. But those two characters would not let me alone. Finally I wrote their story during a hectic two-week period and put the manuscript up on a shelf in my office for a long time before deciding to send it in just to see what the reaction would be. When I phoned about it some time later, I discovered that the book was in copyediting!
Who is your biggest critic?
I am. No one sees what I write until the book is completed to my satisfaction. My editor is the first to read it after me. From long experience I know what works for me and what is likely to work with my editor and with readers. Very rarely now am I asked to make any really extensive revisions. And as a British educated former teacher of English, I am always upset with myself if a copyeditor has to point out a grammatical error that I have made.
Who has influenced you throughout your career as a writer?
It is always a good idea to write either what you know or what interests you as a reader. I write historical love stories set during the Regency era in England. Obviously it is not what I know but what I have researched and what I have always loved to read about. I loved Jane Austen as a girl, and I adored Georgette Heyer when I discovered her surprisingly late in life. It was her books, in fact, that impelled me to write my own. But influences have to be fought against once one begins to write one’s own books. One does not want to be a pale imitation of someone else. I worked hard to discover my own voice and my own particular approach to the Regency and my own vision of love.
What are you currently working on?
I have just completed writing a quintet of books about the Huxtable family—three sister, their brother, and their male second cousin. The first four books were out during the spring of 2009. The fifth, A SECRET AFFAIR, Constantine’s story, is set to be released in hardcover at the end of June, 2010.
Do you have any advice for writers or readers?
The only advice I would ever give a writer is to write. That might seem rather a silly thing to say on the face of it. I am always amazed, however, when in company with groups of writers, to discover how many will find any excuse imaginable to stop themselves from actually sitting down and writing—the need to get their lives organized, do some research, read some how-to books, attend more conferences, consult their critique group, etc. The only way to learn to write is to write. The only way to finish a book is to start it and keep going with it. The only way to get published is to write a book that may be publishable.
What do you feel has been your greatest achievement as an author?
Keeping on writing for more than twenty-five years and keeping my career building throughout that time. There is an amazing number of published authors I have known over the years who have disappeared from the scene for one reason or another. Surprisingly few authors make a long-term career out of their writing. I always have a chuckle when people describe me as a veteran, but I suppose that is what I am. And I am proud of the fact.
What do you feel sets this book apart from others in the same genre?
A PRECIOUS JEWEL is very unusual in both its hero and its heroine. It is a love story set in Regency England, but it cannot be classified as a Regency romance. It is passionate and quite unconventional.
You know the scenario – you’re stuck on an island. What book would you bring with you and why?
Very difficult! Whatever I choose would turn out to be the wrong choice after I have been on that island for a year or decade or two. It might be Georgette Heyer’s FREDERICA. It was the first of her books I read, and it led me into an enchanted world that I rediscovered with every other book of hers I read. It also led to my own writing career. So, as well as the enjoyment I would get from the book itself, I would also get endless hours of dreaming and reminiscing out of having it with my on my desert island.
Is there anything else you would like to share with us?
More information about me and my books, including an excerpt from A PRECIOUS JEWEL, can be found at my web site – www.marybalogh.com.
She was unlike any woman he’d ever met in the ton or the demimonde. But Sir Gerald Stapleton frequented Mrs. Blyth’s euphemistically dubbed “finishing school” for pure, uncomplicated pleasure—and nothing else. So why was this confirmed bachelor so thoroughly captivated by one woman in particular? Why did he find himself wondering how such a rare jewel of grace, beauty, and refinement as Priss had ended up a courtesan? And when she needed protection, why did Gerald, who’d sworn he’d never get entangled in affairs of the heart, hasten to set her up as his own pampered mistress to ensure her safety—and have her all to himself?
For Priscilla Wentworth, the path leading to Sir Gerald’s bed had been as filled with misfortune as it suddenly seemed charmed. But Priss couldn’t allow herself to believe she’d ever be more to a man like Sir Gerald than a well-cared-for object of pleasure. Now, despite Gerald’s deep distrust of marriage, neither scandal nor society’s censure can keep them apart—only the fear of trusting their hearts.
“I am afraid Sonia is indisposed today, Sir Gerald,” Miss Katherine Blythe told the young man when he was shown into her private sitting room instead of being admitted to one of the downstairs salons, as usual. “She has taken a chill from walking in the park yesterday without adequate protection from the cold wind. I would scold her roundly if she were not feeling so miserable, poor girl.”
“It was a chilly day yesterday,” Sir Gerald Stapleton agreed. “I am sorry to hear that Sonia is not well, ma’am. Will you give her my regards? May I see her three days from now if she is recovered?”
Miss Blythe sat back in her chair and looked assessingly at the young man who stood before her. He was of average height, slim and well-formed, fashionably dressed. His face was pleasant even if not startlingly handsome. His fair hair curled into no particular style, but it was soft and clean. She appeared to come to a decision.
“I have one girl who is unexpectedly free for the next hour,” she said. “Prissy has been with me for almost two months and is proving to be very satisfactory. Would you care to see her instead of Sonia for this evening, Sir Gerald?”
The young gentleman pursed his lips and considered for a moment. “I am afraid I am a creature of habit, ma’am,” he said. “I have been seeing Sonia for three months.”
“As you wish, sir,” she said. “I am sure Sonia will be recovered in three days’ time. I shall make the appointment for your usual time?”
He bowed. But he hesitated as he turned to leave. “Of course,” he said, “I have no other plans for this evening.”
Miss Blythe smiled at him. “Why don’t you go down to the blue salon, Sir Gerald?” she said. “I shall send Prissy to you there and you may talk with her for a while. If you do not wish to stay after seeing her, you need not feel obliged to do so. If you do, well then, she is free.”
He bowed again after nodding an assent, left the sitting room, and went downstairs to the blue salon, where a cheerful fire crackled in the hearth and took the chill from the March evening. He held his hands out to the blaze.
Perhaps it was time he tried someone new, he thought. He was indeed a creature of habit—he had told the truth in saying that. But he was also a man who feared commitment or obligation. He had avoided long-term relationships for all of his twenty-nine years and intended to do so for the rest of his life. Even his family relationships had never lasted long. Self-reliance was the only safe way to live, he had concluded long ago.
Yes, perhaps it was as well that Sonia was ill. Three months was quite long enough. Too long, perhaps. And when he thought carefully about the girl, he had to admit that there was nothing about her that he would miss.
He turned when the salon door opened. The young lady who stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind her seemed strangely out of place in Kit’s house. She was small and dainty and dressed in a pretty green muslin dress, the neckline in a high frill beneath her chin, the sleeves puffed at the shoulders and then extending straight to the wrists. Her face beneath her short dark brown curls was pleasant and smiling, her gray eyes candid. She was pretty in a wholesome way. Her skin was creamy with a blush of color high on her cheekbones. She wore no cosmetics.
“Sir Gerald Stapleton?” she said. Her voice was light and musical, another discordant detail in the house. “I am sorry for your disappointment, sir, but Sonia really is dreadfully ill. Would you like me to entertain you for this evening?”
“Prissy?” he said, bowing to her. He did not usually think of bowing to any of Kit’s girls. “It seems like a good idea, since I do not have any other plans for the evening.”
She smiled, revealing to him white and even teeth. The smile extended all the way to her eyes, so that he was given the feeling that she really was pleased.
“I am glad,” she said. “Will you come up to my room, sir? There is a fire there, too. It is a chilly evening, is it not?”
“Deuced depressing weather for March,” he said, following her from the room and up the stairs, and wishing for some unfathomable reason that he had omitted the “deuced.” The top of her head reached barely above his shoulders, he noticed.
“But how lovely to know that it is March,” she said, “and that summer is to come. And how lovely it is to see all the spring flowers in bloom when one steps out of doors. Daffodils are my very favorites. We used to pick them by the armful when I was a girl.”
She looked scarcely more than a girl now, he thought. She spoke in refined accents. But then all of Kit’s girls did. She trained them to lose their regional accents and coarse vocabulary and to give the illusion of being ladies. Kit’s house had a reputation for refinement.
The girl’s room suited her, Sir Gerald thought when she opened the door and preceded him inside. It was decorated all in shades of blue. It was pretty and comfortable without in any way being either fussy or oversensuous. Plain mid-blue curtains were looped back from the bed, which was turned down neatly, ready for use, to reveal crisp white bedsheets and pillowcases.
She closed the door as quietly as she had the salon door earlier. She turned to him with a warm smile.
“How may I please you, sir?” she asked.
Her breasts looked small beneath the high bodice of her dress. So did her waist. Her hips looked as if they might be shapely enough, though it was difficult to know what exactly lay beneath the loose skirt of her dress, which fell from a fashionably high waistline.
“Would you like me to undress?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
She turned her back on him, presenting him with the long line of buttons that extended from the neck of her dress to the hips. “Will you, please?” she said.
As he opened the buttons, he could see that she wore nothing beneath. She turned when he had completed his task, drew the dress off her shoulders and down her arms, let it fall to the floor, and stepped out of it.
Yes. Small breasts, but they were firm and uptilted. As he had suspected, her waist was small, her hips shapely. Her legs were slim, her stomach flat. There was none of the voluptuousness he normally expected of a whore. And none of the wiles, either—at least, not yet. She stood quietly for his inspection, her arms at her sides.
“Do you wish me to unclothe you, sir?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No.” He shrugged out of his coat and raised his hands to his neckcloth. “Lie down on the bed.”
She did so and lay quietly on her back there, watching him as he undressed. She did not cover herself.
“I don’t like any tricks,” he told her when he was almost ready to join her. “None of the little arts you girls know to make things proceed faster. I like to take it slowly at my own speed. All I want you to do is lie still.”
Of course, none of them ever did. They seemed to feel that they were not doing their job if they did not use at least some of their considerable arsenal of arts until his control deserted him. Or perhaps it was in their own interests to make their encounters as brief as possible.
She smiled that warm smile again as he climbed onto the bed and on top of her, reaching up her arms for him, accommodating her body to fit comfortably around his, easing up her hips so that he could slide his hands beneath her.
“It shall be exactly as you wish, sir,” she said. “I am here to give you pleasure.”
He pushed himself inside her, and she raised her knees to hug his hips.
And she was as good as her word. Blessedly, during all the minutes that followed, she kept herself still, though she was relaxed and warm and yielding, very softly feminine. There were no tricks either with hands or hips or inner muscles. She allowed him to satisfy his appetite in the way he most liked to do it.
He sighed against her soft curls eventually and relaxed his full weight onto her. After a few minutes, when he was still hovering in the blissful state between waking and sleeping, he felt her lift one foot and reach down with one hand. A smooth sheet and warm blankets were drawn up about his shoulders. He sighed again and slept.
Fingers smoothing through his hair woke him. He did not know how long he had slept. He was warm and comfortable. Her hair smelled good. She smelled good and felt good beneath him.
“My time is up?” he said.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Almost.”
When he turned to her after dressing, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a modest pale blue dressing gown. She smiled at him.
“You are good, Prissy,” he said. “There are not many . . . girls who are willing to do exactly as I ask.”
“But it is my job and my pleasure to please you, sir,” she said.
“I will be visiting you again,” he said, one hand on the knob of the door.
“I shall look forward to it,” she said.
He almost believed her as he let himself out of the room, so warm was her smile. She was a good actress as well as being very good at her profession.
He tapped on Kit’s door.
“Ah,” she said after summoning him inside. She set aside her book and removed the spectacles she was wearing. “You decided to stay, then, Sir Gerald? I thought you would once you had seen Prissy.”
“I want her again,” he said, “in three days’ time. Is she much in demand?”
“Indeed she is,” Miss Blythe said. “Almost all of her clients return and become regulars. You were fortunate that one of them was out of town this evening.”
“Yes,” he said. “Three days’ time?”
She drew an appointment book toward her from a table at her elbow. “Four is the best I can do, I am afraid, Sir Gerald,” she said. “Of course, Sonia will be free.”
“Four days will do,” he said. “The usual time?”
“I shall record it,” she said. “I am glad that Prissy pleased you so well, Sir Gerald.”
“Good night, ma’am,” he said. He nodded to her and took his leave.
He did not, as he usually did when he left Kit’s, go to White’s in search of a card game and congenial company. He returned to his bachelor rooms and was in bed before midnight. He had a relaxed feeling of well-being and thought he would sleep well without the drugs of liquor and cards and male conversation until the early hours of the morning. He was not normally a good sleeper.
Gina Browning’s MOONBEAM DREAMS VIRTUAL BLOG TOUR ‘09 will officially begin on Nov. 2 and end on Nov. 27. You can visit Gina’s blog stops at www.virtualbooktours.wordpress.com during the month of November to find out more about this great book and talented author and to find out about chances to win a free copy of Moonbeam Dreams.
Guest post by Joan Hochstetler, author of “One Holy Night”
Join Joan Hochstetler, author of the contemporary women’s fiction bool, One Holy Night (Sheaf House ,April 2008), as she virtually tours the blogosphere in November on her first virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book Promotion!
J. M. Hochstetler writes stories that always involve some element of the past and of finding home. Born in central Indiana, the daughter of Mennonite farmers, she graduated from Indiana University with a degree in Germanic languages. She was an editor with Abingdon Press for twelve years and has published four novels. Daughter of Liberty (2004), Native Son (2005), and Wind of the Spirit (March 2009), the first three books of the critically acclaimed American Patriot Series, are set during the American Revolution. One Holy Night, a retelling of the Christmas story set in modern times, is the 2009 Christian Small Publishers Fiction Book of the Year and a finalist for the 2009 American Christian Fiction Writers Long Contemporary Book of the Year.
Hochstetler is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, Advanced Writers and Speakers Association, Christian Authors Network, Middle Tennessee Christian Writers, Nashville Christian Writers Association, and Historical Novels Society. She and her husband live near Nashville, Tennessee.
You can find Joan online at www.jmhochstetler.com or at this book’s blog http://oneholynight.blogspot.com.
Finding Peace in the Midst of Trials
By J. M. Hochstetler
One of the main topics currently on everyone’s mind is the economy. It seems as if everywhere we look, there’s bad news. The unemployment rate is rising and companies are still cutting jobs. Families are struggling to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. The stock market is unstable, the financial sector is plagued by scandal, and we’re still at war in Iraq and Afghanistan, with the consequent drain on the federal budget and no end in sight. Politics is marked by increasing rancor that makes it hard for the opposing parties to work together. The president’s approval rating is on a downward slide, and so is Congress’s.
It’s easy to get discouraged when you look at all these things. In Ecclesiastes 1:14-15, the Preacher says, “I have seen all the works which have been done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and striving after wind. What is crooked cannot be straightened and what is lacking cannot be counted.” It seems we’ve gotten to the point where there’s too much that’s crooked to ever straighten it out, and even the will is lacking. It’s a pretty bleak picture.
But God has a different perspective. He sees our situation from the vantage point of eternity—not as we see it, from below, limited by time and space. Although we can’t know the way ahead and where unseen dangers lie, or the solutions to all the problems we face, God does. And our heavenly Father, more than any other, cares deeply about our circumstances and reaches out to save us.
In the midst of our hardships and trials, God gives us the simplest solution of all. It goes back to a baby, born in a stable many years ago to a poor family that couldn’t even find room in the inn—a baby who was given to us to heal our wounds, forgive our sins, and restore our relationships. In John 16:33, Jesus says, “These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.”
When we face difficult and painful circumstances, the cross is our assurance that Jesus has been where we are and that God sees our situation and is working on our behalf. The only one who can overcome the tribulation we experience is the One who set the universe in place and still holds it in His hand.
An unforgettable story of forgiveness and reconciliation, One Holy Night retells the Christmas story in a strikingly original way—through the discovery of a baby abandoned in the manger of a church’s nativity scene. Destined to become a classic for all seasons, One Holy Night deals compassionately with the gritty issues of life—war and violence, devastating illness, intergenerational conflict, addictions, and broken relationships. This moving, inspirational story will warm readers’ hearts with hope and joy long after they finish reading.
November 19, 1966
Mike McRae dropped his battered duffel bag on the concrete floor and glanced through the bank of windows to where the wide-bodied army transport sat waiting on the snow-dusted tarmac. Waiting to take him and his buddies halfway around the world to war.
Viet Nam.The name hung between him and his family as they gathered in the spare, unadorned military terminal, trying to pretend that this trip was nothing out of the ordinary. But it seemed to Mike almost as if he were gone already, that he had moved beyond the point where he could reach out to touch them. Their faces, loved and familiar, blurred before his eyes as though he looked at them through a mist.
His father cleared his throat before shoving a dog-eared, plain, tan paperback book into Mike’s hands. “Thought you might be able to use this sometime,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You and Julie used to like to sing some of these old songs when you were kids. Remember?”
Mike looked down at the book he held. It was his father’s old service hymnbook that he’d gotten as a young Marine at Sunday worship aboard a ship headed out to the South Pacific during World War II. Frank McRae wasn’t much of one to attend church, and the gift surprised Mike. Maybe spiritual things meant more to his father than he had thought.
It evidently surprised his mother too. “Oh, Frank, I didn’t think you paid any attention. Julie taught you those songs when you were just a toddler,” she added, lightly touching Mike’s shoulder. “The two of you sounded like little angels-” She stopped, her voice choking.
Mike could feel the heat rising to his face. To cover his embarrassment, he flipped open the worn cover and stared down at the inscription on the title page. No date, just the owner’s name: Frank McRae.
It was Mike’s turn to clear his throat. There was suddenly a lump in it despite his skepticism about anything that had to do with faith or religion.
“Well . . . cool. Thanks.”
Blinking back an unexpected prickle of tears, he glanced over at his mother, Maggie, who was thin and wan from surgery and chemotherapy for ovarian cancer. His sister, Julie, hovered near her, still in her white nurse’s uniform after coming straight to the airport from the hospital where she worked. Behind her stood her husband, Dan, holding their daughter, Amy.
“I know you’ve got a lot to carry already, but-”
Mike waved his father’s words away. “It isn’t heavy, Dad, and who knows. You lugged it through all those battlefields, and you made it home. Maybe it’ll bring me good luck too.”
On impulse, he pulled a pen out of the breast pocket of his fatigues, clicked it open and added his name below his father’s, added the date too. Squatting down, he zipped open his bag and squeezed the hymnal in among his clothing.
When he straightened, his mother stepped forward to give him a fierce hug. “When you get there let us know you’re okay and what unit you’re assigned to. Write as often as you can.”
“I will, Mom.” He struggled to keep his voice from choking up. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“You get well, okay?” he whispered in her ear.
“I will. I’m going to beat this cancer, God willing.”
Inwardly Mike sighed, though for her sake he managed not to grimace. He and his mom had always been close, but he got awfully tired of all this God talk. On the other hand, if there really was a benign force somewhere out there in the universe, he supposed prayers couldn’t hurt.
Julie crowded in to put her arms around him as well. “I’m sure going to miss you, little brother.” She was crying openly, not making any attempt to brush away her tears.
“Aw, you’re going to be too busy with this little princess to think about me,” Mike returned awkwardly, reaching over to tickle three-year-old Amy under the chin.
She leaned out from her father’s arms, reaching for him. Dan surrendered the child, and she wound her arms around Mike’s neck, nestled her golden head against his shoulder, giggling, as he tugged on her braid.
Mike was relieved to see that Amy, at least, seemed not to comprehend the dangers he was heading toward or the length of the separation that lay before them. He turned to clasp Dan’s hand in a handshake he hoped would say everything he couldn’t.
Dan pushed his hand away and embraced him without speaking, pounding him on the back at the same time. Only Frank held back, frowning, as he stared through the windows at the plane.
Outside Mike could hear the engines revving up, signaling that it was time to board. The last of his buddies were heading outside. Hastily handing Amy back to Dan, Mike kissed his sister and mother, shook his father’s hand, then zipped up his parka and grabbed his duffel bag.
“Thirteen months,” he said, forcing a grin. “See you all back here next Christmas.”
“Don’t forget to tell Terry hello from all of us. Remind him Angie and the kids want him to stay safe and to hurry home. Give him a kiss from Angie,” Julie added with a wicked grin.
“Yeah, right!” Mike chuckled in spite of himself, then hefted his bag. “It sure will be good to see a friendly face when I get there. With luck, I’ll end up in Terry’s platoon.”
“It’ll be more than luck,” his mother said. “I’m going to pray about it. And we’ll be praying every minute until you’re home safe with us again.”
Mike gave her a crooked smile, then with a quick wave to all of them, turned and strode out the door and across the tarmac. By sheer willpower he kept his stride steady, refusing to let himself turn to look back at them. He knew that if he did, he’d never make it to the plane.
Every step of the way he could sense their eyes following him, and their love. When he reached the stairs, he ran up them, not letting himself think about what he was leaving behind or what lay before him.
Hurriedly he moved through the open door into the plane’s dim interior, feeling, like the severing of an embrace, the moment when he disappeared from their sight.
Read the Reviews!
“One Holy Night is J.M. Hochstetler’s fourth novel, and within its pages you will discover the most beautiful modern-day essence of Christ’s nativity, mercy, and grace you’ve read in a very long while!…She richly captures the turmoil surrounding the lives of those affected by the Viet Nam War, and the many emotional conflicts that raged on as a result of that war. I look forward to reading her other books, and I highly recommend this one to you!” —Kim Ford, Window to My World (berlysue.blogspot.com)
Joan Hochstetler’s ONE HOLY NIGHT VIRTUAL BLOG TOUR ‘09 will officially begin on Nov. 2 and end on Nov. 27. You can visit Joan’s blog stops at www.virtualbooktours.wordpress.com during the month of November to find out more about this great book and talented author and to learn how to win a free copy of One Holy Night.
Interview with Michael Estepa, author of “Purged by Darkness”
Join Michael Estepa, author of the young adult crime fiction book, Purged By Darkness (Eloquent Books, June ‘09) , as he virtually tours the blogosphere in November and December on his first virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book Promotion!
Michael self published and financed his book releasing it locally in 2004. For two years he went around talking to libraries, youth groups, his old high school and book clubs about his book, gangs, drugs, believing in yourself, the writing process etc. He even appeared in several local newspapers and on the local radio. “I enjoyed my talks with these kids and meeting new people because it allowed me to do my part in giving back to the community by helping and inspiring kids. I wrote Purged by Darkness as a vehicle to do just that and if my book is able to steer even just one youth away from the path I almost ventured into then I know everything I have been through is worth it!” said Michael.
While his book did find success locally with his old high school and a number of libraries purchasing his book, he felt there was so much more his book had to offer. So he sent his work to America and was fortunate in obtaining an American literary agency in 2006. “While they loved my work, my agent felt that my work needed to be worked on. At first, I was hesitant to change anything but then I realised, I can’t be stubborn as I only have one shot at the American reader to make an impression,” he said. After much time was spent rewriting, editing and searching for a publisher, Michael would be knocked back a total of 22 times over the course of two years by American publishers. “I definitely felt disheartened, I was even at a point where I wanted to give up and work on something else. The problem was, I believed in my manuscript too much to just give up. I honestly believed that my book would make a difference in the lives of young people or anyone for that matter,” said Michael. His patience and belief paid off as Michael finally got his break when his agent announced that they had a possible publisher interested in him. After liaising with the publisher, they offered him a contract. As of November, 2008 Michael’s manuscript Purged by Darkness will be officially published by Eloquent Books. His book won’t be released until later this year.
For more information on the book and author, please visit: www.MichaelEstepa.com
1) Can you give a brief description of your book?
Purged by Darkness is an action packed, coming-of-age story that revolves around the lives of six friends in the notorious criminal underworld of Melbourne, Australia.
The story is told through the eyes of Kai, the leader of his friends and the main character of the story as he comes face to face with drugs, bullets, and in most recent times a sense of morality. The group’s friendship endures as the six try to define their lives interweaved with their life of crime
In this strange existence, love and loyalty among the friends flourish because they can only depend on each other. But friendship is pushed beyond all normal limits, as danger waits at every turn.
2) Do you have a favorite character in your book and if so why?
Other than Kai (the main character of the story), my favorite character in my book, Purged by Darkness would have to be Mr. Wong who is the Dragon Head or leader of his Triad crime gang, which is referred to in the story as Wongshiu Society. Mr. Wong is my favourite character because he is trying to balance his traditional beliefs of the crime gang he created and led for more than 30 years with the modern age. When Mr. Wong first created his Triad society it was his loyalty for his members and their loyalty for him that kept his society together and virtually indestructible, however, as narcotics started to flood the underworld it was the lure of easy money that feeds the greed of his members (as well as his rivals) instead of their loyalty for each other. This becomes evident in the next generation of Triad gangsters coming through the ranks of his society and his rivals. Throughout the story the reader will ask itself if Mr. Wong’s age old traditions will be able to continue into the new millennium or will his beliefs become nothing more than outdated values?
3) What do you like most in your writing?
What I like most about my writing, especially in what people have said to me is that my writing isn’t complex and it’s easy to read. I have read countless books where the author throws all these words at you and it takes forever just to figure out what the story is about. My writing reflects a lot on my philosophy in life, which is “keep it simple!” My writing style is straight to the point and the language I use is simple but descriptive. I have had teenagers who have never read a book in their life, pick up my book and instantly get hooked on it. I have work colleagues (I’m a nurse in Australia) who aren’t a big fan of reading pick up my book and are instantly drawn to it. I have friends who after reading my book tell me that it’s easy to write a book (only to quit after a week once they realise how much work is actually involved) all based on my style of writing. I am not saying that my writing is the best but that is just my style of writing and what I like most about it!
4) What do you feel sets this book apart from others in the same genre?
I know there have been countless books written on organised crime but according to my knowledge there is yet to be a book (not written in Asia) published fictitiously about Asian organised crime, in this case the Triads, set in Western Society that specifically targets the young adult audience. What sets my book, Purged by Darkness apart from the others in the same crime fiction genre is that not only is my book written about the consequences of youth being involved in organised crime but it is also details of how this group of friends come of age in the dangerous criminal underworld of the Triads, but it also explores the innermost thoughts of a gangster rather than just the brutality and violence that is their world. To top it off, young readers can relate to the story because the author was only 18 when he wrote the story!
5) You know the scenario – you’re stuck on an island. What book would you bring with you and why?
That’s a tough one. I would say the Lord of the Rings Trilogy because their long and interesting, which depending on how long I am stuck on the island would hopefully be enough to sustain my attention from boredom (hahaha)!
6) If you could go back and change one day, what would it be?
There is one particular day, but it’s something I’d rather not talk about.
7) Are you a different person now than you were 5 years ago? In what way/s?
I would like to think so (hahaha). There are a few people that I used to roll with who will tell you that I am a different person and that they don’t recognize the person I have become, which coming from them is a compliment!
I was told once that I have an old man’s soul trapped in my young body. Given all the negative things I have experienced in my young life, looking back, I do feel that those experiences forced me to mature faster than I would have liked. In my teenage years, I was often seen by my closest friends as someone who is quite mature for his age, however, I still believe that what has changed most about me in the last 5 years is my maturity and my outlook in life. There are a lot of things I know now that I wish I knew 5 years ago, but with life experience brings wisdom and happiness. Thanks to my girlfriend I am a lot more patient as well!
What is the most important lesson you have learned from life so far?
That nothing and I mean nothing is ever set in stone. If you believe in yourself and you are willing to work your arse off to get it then nothing should ever stop you from reaching your dreams! My parents are living proof of that!
9) Is there anything you regret doing/not doing?
I am sort of torn between my answers for this question. On one side there is a regret, but on the other, I believe I would not be the confident (but not arrogant) down – to – earth person I am today had I not experienced that sense of loss, physical pain or mental anguish I did in my past. Everything happens for a reason and I truly believe that, and to live with regrets is not living at all!
10) What is your favorite past-time?
There are a couple favourite past-times. I enjoy spending time with my girlfriend, watching a good movie, grabbing a bite to eat with friends, working out at the gym or training in Krav Maga (Israeli Fighting System).
11) Is there anything else you would like to share with us?
I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for taking the time out to interview me and I would also like to tell all the viewers out there that if you want a book that excites as well as thrills, has non – stop action, heartfelt moments, a clear message at the end of the story, enough romance to warm your heart and is reader friendly, then Purged by Darkness is the book for you! Regardless of your age or reading skill, you will not be disappointed!
Feel free to check out my official website: www.MichaelEstepa.com for further information about me and my book.
Purged by Darkness revolves around six friends in Melbourne, Australia, and their journey inside the organised crime syndicate known as the Triads.
In the gang lifestyle, honor and absolute loyalty is demanded of all members, while fear, death and betrayal often follow. The group’s friendship endures as the six try to define their lives interwoven with their life of crime. In their world, no one ever wins and everyone involved finds it too difficult to ever get out. To them, the city represents violence and the countryside, peace.
In this strange existence, love and loyalty among the friends flourish because they can only depend on each other. But friendship is pushed beyond all normal limits, as danger waits at every turn.
What is it like to live in a world of death and violence? Is every moment cherished because it could be the last? Finally, what does it take to survive life in the mob?
Just minutes after entering the club, I found him. Towards the back tables above the steps was Freddy Zyu. I had never met him before nor had I ever spoken to him. This was the first time I would ever see him and it would be the last. Remembering the folder and the photo of this man back at Mr Wong’s conference room three weeks ago, I realised he looked every bit like he did in the photo. His men also had looked very familiar, almost as if I had seen them every day of my life. During the short time we were there, their faces were something I refused to forget. Their very detailed features I would force myself to memorise and remember when the time came. Watching this branch leader sit back and enjoy himself while my friend was dead, sickened me. I felt my blood rush and my emotions take over. Control yourself, Kai. Don’t let your anger take over. You’ve got a job to do, I said to myself. I wanted to kill this bastard right there and then, but the time to strike just wasn’t right.
Looking around, I could see that Philip and Ricky were within my line of sight. Finally making eye contact with both of them, I gave them the signal as to where our target was. Giving another signal, I made sure they watched the area in which our target was situated. Even though visibility was not clear, I saw when I showed my friends where the target was situated, their faces become lifeless and still and I felt their hearts stop. There was a look of terror and rage filling their eyes. It killed them to see that branch leader having a good time, laughing and drinking while our friend was dead. They wanted him dead and they would even die trying if they had to. I wanted that too, but the timing still wasn’t right. Several times I had to get their attention to stop them from making a move.
With our target staying put, we waited patiently for over forty minutes, even mingling with the crowd, watching and waiting for our chance to strike. We couldn’t strike just yet since he had a handful of women with him. It was my understanding that no matter what, under no circumstances was I or any of my men going to kill anyone, especially women, not involved in the hit. It had never been my practice nor was it something I condoned, to hurt or kill innocent people not involved in the underworld. I would wait as long as I had to.
With my men and myself growing very impatient, the opportunity finally came when all the women they were with got up and walked in the direction of the bathroom. Giving Ricky, Philip and Joseph the nod, we began putting our silencers on. Walking slowly towards them, I began counting in my head, taking a deep breath each time as I did so. One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… I said to myself. There were seven of his men with this branch leader. With Philip and Ricky coming from the left and Joseph and me coming from the right, we knew we could easily take them out without question.
Finally within range and with the darkness of the club still in our favour, we opened fire. It was quick and instant. For a moment I even felt pity, simply because it wasn’t honourable to kill an enemy when he cannot see you or is not ready. Then I thought, Who cares? No gangsters are honourable these days.
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Tags: michael estepa, purged by darkness, young adult crime fiction | 
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