Anna Kyle on Questions Readers Ask + Omega Rising Excerpt
When people find out that I’m an author I get comments that I imagine some other authors get like:
“I’ve never heard of (your book title).”
“Oh, I only read NYT bestsellers.”
Sometimes it’s a simple “that’s nice” before they move on to someone more exciting. And that’s okay.
But the really interested people, the ones whose eyes brighten and you know instantly that they love reading and writing and possibly yearn in their heart of hearts to be published, will ask me a version of “How do you do it/What’s your process?”
I love talking to them. My answer will be different from other authors simply because I’m me. Everyone’s journey in life is different and writing is no exception. My writing process is constantly evolving but some things remain constant.
I write best in the morning so I like to wake up early on my late start days for work and write a bit. My alarm goes off every morning at 5 a.m. even on weekends. Yes, that’s the ass-crack of dawn today and the middle of the night during winter. I’d be lying if I said I write every morning, but I do it a lot. I’ve become a morning person. In my days after college I’d stay up writing until 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning writing fast and furious. Not so much anymore. Work, life, responsibilities have transformed this night owl into a grumpy morning lark.
I write down all my ideas, well, the good ones. Readers and writers are cut from the same cloth or two sides of the same coin, in my opinion. By that I mean we both have active, fertile imaginations. Ideas are fleeting, ephemeral. When one sparks, write it down because you WILL forget it. And yes, I keep a pad and pen by my bed but honestly, only twice used it :)
I also don’t usually write every day (four to six days a week depending on the week). Unless a deadline is zooming toward me, then, yes, I write every day.
There is no substitute for learning the craft of writing. I have a writing background as a reporter and later freelance writer but I found out quickly that fiction is another beast entirely. I attended workshops and read tons of books on the subject and that would be my #1 nugget of wisdom to readers aspiring to be authors. Like Chuck Wendig says often on his blog, “you have to know the rules of writing before you break them.”
Thanks for having me, Night Owl. It’s been a hoot (ugh sorry, not like you haven’t heard that one ten thousand times and cringe :) I’ll show myself out).
Cass Nolan has been forced to avoid the burn of human touch for her whole life, drawing comfort instead from her dreams of a silver wolf—her protector, her friend. When her stalking nightmares return, her imaginary dead sister’s ghost tells her to run, Cass knows she should listen, but the sinfully hot stranger she just hired to work on her ranch has her mind buzzing with possibilities. Not only does her skin accept Nathan’s touch, it demands it. Cass must make a decision—run again and hope she saves the people who have become her family, or stand and fight. Question is, will it be with Nathan or against him?
Nathan Rivers’ life is consumed by his quest to find the Omega wolf responsible for killing his brother, but when the trail leads him to Cass and her merry band of shapeshifters, his wolf wants only to claim her for himself. When evidence begins piling up that Cass is the Omega he’s been seeking, things become complicated—especially since someone else wants her dead. Saving her life might mean sacrificing his own, but it may be worth it to save the woman he can’t keep from reaching for.
He gestured toward the desk again, his eyebrows lifting at her obvious reluctance. Well it could only take a few seconds or so to place a bandage and he smelled so damn good. She settled herself on the desk and held out her hand. He was so close she imagined she could feel the heat of his body warming her skin. His thumb smoothed the edges of the criss-cross bandage while his other hand held hers loosely. Cass tensed, ready to yank her hand away. Nathan looked at her, questioning, she guessed, how she got the scrape.
“Misjudged the wall.” Her voice was unsteady as she tried to ignore the shooting tingly little sparks fanning out from his touch. His large tanned hand enveloped hers loosely, turning it over to trace her palm. Cass’s apprehension grew and she braced for the inevitable burn, her brain automatically rifling through the best maneuvers to pull herself free. The clunky phone on her desk could be a weapon and the letter opener was lying within easy distance. A bonk on the head or stab in the throat, if her gut had massively misjudged his character, would gain her freedom.
His hold didn’t tighten. Five seconds, ten, still nothing. Fifteen, twenty. She wanted him to let go yet clung to the warmth and texture of his skin. Her breath came faster but it wasn’t nerves alone. His finger traced a small cut on the pad of her ring finger and he looked up again.
“Pa-paper cut.” He grabbed an antiseptic square, tore it open with his teeth to keep his hold on her hand. Soon that cut was cleaned and covered. Her insides shivered as his hand glided over her forearm, pushing up the sleeve of her hoodie. Her skin soaked in the roughness of his palm and reached for the heat in his touch. Ninety seconds. She stared at his large, tanned hand stroking her pale forearm, the pure pleasure of it making her light-headed.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured as he continued his exploration, finding a larger angry red line with bruising around it. He traced it gently.
“Mr. Clean,” Cass said, her voice husky. “He’s an asshole.”
Nathan chuckled, the sound raspy as if he hadn’t found much amusing for a long time. Cass stared, transfixed. He was already the best looking man she’d ever seen, but with the smile softening his features for a moment he was devastating, the crinkles at the corner of his eyes positively kissable. Her heart flipped in her chest.
He pressed his lips against her palm, taking a deep, ragged breath. His nose and lips were hot and she waited, quivering in anticipation.
Anna Kyle wrote her first story at age 12 on an old manual typewriter, and though the technology has changed, she hasn’t stopped since. She lives in the Midwest surrounded by family and friends and dogs and horses. They’ve forgiven her (mostly) when they appear in her stories. She reads everything she can get her hands on, but romances, especially paranormals, are her favorite. Vampires, humans, Fae, shapeshifters, or demons, it doesn’t matter—Anna’s heart goes pitter-pat for the Happily Ever After. Hot heroes + strong, funny heroines = awesome.
Social Media Links