Cass Weatherfield’s powers come with a deadly price.
Cass knows it was her telekinetic gift that killed a college classmate five years back, even if no one else believes her. She’s lived in hiding from her fellow shadowminds ever since, plagued by guilt and suppressing her abilities with sedatives. Until the night her past walks back into her life in the form of sexy Shane Tanner, the ex-boyfriend who trained her…and the one she left without saying goodbye.
When Shane tells her that his twin sister, Mina—Cass’s childhood friend—is missing, Cass vows to help, which means returning to New Orleans to use her dangerous skills in the search. But finding Mina only leads to darker questions. As Cass and Shane race to learn who is targeting shadowminds, they find themselves drawn to each other, body and soul. Just as their powerful intimacy reignites, events take a terrifying turn, and Cass realizes that to save the people she loves, she must embrace the powers that ruined her life.
* * *
1. You can fit a body in the back of a ’69 Camaro.
I had my doubts about this, but it turns out to be possible. It’s one of the many fascinating trivia items Google has taught me. I also know the best way to survive a gunshot wound to the chest and how long it takes to get from Biloxi to New Orleans driving ninety-five miles per hour. Writers: Mad, bad and dangerous to know.
2. I write paranormal fiction.
Technically, I discovered this while writing my previous novel, The Vampire Pseudo-Romance That Shall Not Be Published, but Twisted Miracles was the book where I owned it. I’d heard other writers say they didn’t get to pick what they wrote, but when I opened that blank Word file and started Twisted, I finally understood what they meant. When you’re writing what you’re supposed to write, you feel more like a conduit than a creator. This was the book where I finally stopped laboring to craft a Sweeping Southern Family Saga and instead let my subconscious do the walking. When a telekinetic New Orleans B&B owner showed up, instead of trying to kick him out, I was like, Cool. Can you invite some friends?
3. Paranormal fiction is awesome.
I’m glad I figured out #2, because letting my subconscious do the walking led me to some freaky and fascinating places. I was writing about all the themes and tensions that have always bothered and fascinated me—how your family shapes your destiny, the complicated culture of my home state, whether we have a responsibility to use our gifts. Only, this time there were a bunch of telekinetics and supernatural healers doing the talking, and the questions of what family is, what home is, what our gifts are—they came into much sharper relief. I was able to make those issues larger than life, so big that I could finally see them, tackle them, take them down. Start to understand them.
Writing paranormal fiction let me play in a way no other form has. I could take all the troubling intangibles that were puzzling me and give them a physical avatar in my fictional world. I made them real.
4. Not everyone agrees with #3
Paranormal fiction does some amazing things. It entertains, sure, but it can also tackle thorny problems symbolically. It’s an oblique hit, and it can be all the more brilliant for it. But not everyone agrees that paranormal fiction—or really, any genre fiction—is worth reading. Here’s a sample of replies I got when I told some of the non-writerly folks in my life what I’m writing:
“Oh, so you’re writing those books.”
“Well, but, I’m sure you write strong women, right?” (This in response to the news that Harlequin is my publisher.)
“Maybe you just need to get some practice before you write something serious.”
Sigh. What can I say? Except:
5. You can fit a body in the back of a ’02 Corolla, too.
Just kidding.
* * *
A.J. Larrieu grew up in small-town Louisiana, where she spent her summers working in her family’s bakery, exploring the swamps around her home and reading science fiction and fantasy novels under the covers. She attended Louisiana State University, where she majored in biochemistry and wrote bad poetry on the side. Despite pursuing a Ph.D. in biology, she couldn’t kick the writing habit, and she wrote her first novel in graduate school. It wasn’t very good, but she kept at it, and by the time she graduated, she had an addiction to writing sexy urban fantasy and paranormal romance. Her second novel, Twisted Miracles, was a finalist in RWA’s Golden Heart® competition in 2012. The book kicks off her dark, romantic urban fantasy series, The Shadowminds, which follows a group of humans with psychic powers through New Orleans’ supernatural underworld. A.J. is currently a working biophysicist in San Francisco, where she lives with her family and too many books.
G.G. Andrew says:
This looks like a great read. Oy, the whole “strong women” thing… I really think we need to euthanize that phrase. I read this interesting post last year (http://www.newstatesman.com/culture/2013/08/i-hate-strong-female-characters) about female characters, my takeaway which was that we should allow women to be strong or weak or goofy or smart or badass…or all of that, because women are diverse and multi-dimensional, and, you know, human.
April 10, 2014 — 8:30 AM
AJ Larrieu says:
I remember that post! Revolutionary concept, right? 😉
Thanks for stopping by today. And good luck with the body and the Nissan.
April 10, 2014 — 10:00 AM
G.G. Andrew says:
Now off to see if I can fit a dead body into a ’09 Nissan Rogue.
April 10, 2014 — 8:32 AM
M T McGuire says:
I love your point number 2. I’d lay bets MI6 (I’m British) are all over my arse after some of the stuff I’ve typed into Google. Loved what you said about merely being a conduit, that’s exactly how I feel.
Also, I sympathise completely with 4. One of my friends read, and loved, my first sci-fi fantasy book but after he failed to enjoy the second one he told me, “You’re wasted writing this rubbish. No one’ll ever publish it. Why don’t you write a real book?” I told him to fuck off and published it myself. Thus ensuring that everyone thinks my books are shit, except for the tiny handful of people who’ve actually read one. Sorry I’ve veered off into my own personal baggage there.
Your book sounds great, it’s a really intriguing premise and so all the best with it, here’s hoping it does well for you.
April 10, 2014 — 8:51 AM
AJ Larrieu says:
Yes, my search history is a terrifying place. Also bizarre. I think the weirdest thing I ever had to find was an online calculator that will tell you how much a log weighs based on the type of wood, length and diameter. I did not know such a thing existed until I went looking for it, but now any experienced woodworkers/loggers who read my book will not have to roll their eyes at unrealistic log weights.
Thanks for the good wishes, and same to you. I don’t think we get to pick what we write, really. And anyway, sci-fi fantasy is awesome. 🙂
April 10, 2014 — 10:14 AM
M T McGuire says:
That is impressively bizarre. But I know the feeling about wanting to add an authentic feel.
April 10, 2014 — 10:51 AM
Kay Camden says:
“more like a conduit than a creator”
I hear ya. Well put.
And those Google searches. I opened my laptop yesterday to find Firefox tabs open to symptoms of pneumonia, surgical sutures, and medical supplies. I need to remember to close that shit out. Premeditated surgery and/or pneumonia? Just doesn’t look good.
Looks like a great read, I’m about to go add it to my Goodreads right now.
April 10, 2014 — 10:45 AM
AJ Larrieu says:
Thanks, Kay! I hope you enjoy the book.
I love that “conduit” feeling, when everything clicks and I truly have *no idea* where the words are coming from.
Good luck with the character surgery/pneumonia. There are definitely some scary medical problems in my search history as well. Poor characters, always getting maimed. 😉
April 10, 2014 — 10:56 AM
Marc Cabot says:
I get both and in-between. I might call myself more of a tour guide – I collect (create) the characters, and I plan the itinerary to a degree. But at least as often as not, they get carried away at the wine-tasting stop and the next thing I know it’s all I can do to keep them in a group and not run over by a Greyhound bus as they go where they damn well want to go.
I’ve never had a character actually “talk” to me – I think that would creep me out something fierce. But I’ve had them, as chains of continuous thought, absolutely refuse to do what I thought I wanted them to do. I’ve had characters I thought were just ordinary sleazeballs turn into absolute monsters, and I’ve had characters I thought were predatorial douchebags turn into full-fledged romantic heroes. I dunno how it works. I’m just glad when it does.
April 14, 2014 — 9:47 AM
Kay Camden says:
I’ve had characters change on me too. Mostly the bad ones, looking for sympathy. And often they get it for very good reasons. I dunno how it works either.
April 14, 2014 — 11:32 PM
Wendy Christopher says:
Brilliant post! I know what you mean with the conduit thing. I’ve come to feel the same way about sci-fi now; it’s chosen me rather than the other way around. And definitely know what you mean regarding research. I dread to think what the NSA would have made of some of my Google searches recently; how to skin, cook and eat a rat, how to make an anti-theft device for a motorbike that delivers a disabling electric shock at just one touch, are there any illegal street drugs that make you physically incapable but still able to function mentally..?
“Well, but, I’m sure you write strong women, right?”
How the heck were they thinking you’d answer that one? “Well no, actually – I like to make them weak and whiny, because there’s nothing I enjoy more than crapping all over the sisterhood.” *facepalm*
April 10, 2014 — 12:55 PM
Maure says:
I’ve looked extensively into what drowning feels like, among other things – I’m writing a paranormal horror/thriller/something at the moment.
Funnily enough, I’ve never experienced that ‘conduit’ feeling with a particular genre – I hop around a lot. Before this I was writing steampunk fantasy, and before that… just fantasy, I guess. With snow and people who channel fire spirits and stuff. Come to think of it, maybe it’s just fantasy that’s my thing, but it’s so broad it’s hard to think of it as a genre.
A telekinetic B&B owner sounds great. 😀 And I like ‘shadowminds’. I always struggle with coming up with something other than ‘they can do… stuff. Like magic, except that sounds remarkably dumb’ when I have characters with various powers.
April 10, 2014 — 1:21 PM
AJ Larrieu says:
@Maure
Ooof. Researching drowning must have been pretty harrowing. Oh, the places we go…
The conduit thing…yeah, those are the good days. I still have days where it feels like I’m stitching damp cardboard boxes together with Q-tips and trying to convince myself I’m building a rocket. Ups and downs, you know? (Case in point: I have a whole file full of brainstorming (aka flailing) in which I tried to come up with the term “shadowminds.” So, thanks for that compliment. 🙂
Good luck with the fire spirits!
April 10, 2014 — 7:43 PM
Rhianna says:
This post is fricking awesome. YOU are fricking awesome AJ. I ♥ genre fiction and paranormal fiction in particular for all the reasons you stated.
April 10, 2014 — 5:37 PM
AJ Larrieu says:
Aww, thanks! It’s a big part of why I love writing in this genre–the potential for symbolism is so vast. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂
April 10, 2014 — 9:54 PM
AJ Larrieu says:
Thanks! Hey, knowing how to eat rats is going to be super useful after the apocalypse. (Writers: mad, bad and USEFUL to know…)
I tried to take the “strong women” comment in the complimentary spirit in which it was meant, but it made me a little sad to be reminded of the negative way folks sometimes view the romance genre. There are plenty of strong women in romance–and they’re strong in such wonderfully different ways! Ah well. Perhaps I’ll give the complimenter a stack of books for Christmas… 🙂
All the best with being a conduit for sci-fi!
April 10, 2014 — 7:38 PM
AJ Larrieu says:
(this was meant for Wendy C, BTW. Came up in the wrong place for some reason.)
April 10, 2014 — 9:54 PM
AJ Snook says:
The dilemma of how to get rid of a body is one of my favorite scenes to read or watch (remember Heizenberg’s idea of melting it in acid in Breaking Bad?). A body will soon show up in the next novel I’m writing and I’ll be trying to think of something creative. The first body in the story was conveniently made to look like an accident. Thanks for the post.
April 10, 2014 — 9:21 PM
AJ Larrieu says:
I can still see that scene sometimes when I close my eyes. They wanted to make sure we knew what we were getting into with that show, I think. lol
Good luck with the fictional body disposal!
April 10, 2014 — 9:56 PM
orlando sanchez says:
He slammed her head into the wall, causing a guttral laugh to escape her lips.
April 12, 2014 — 10:18 AM