I want to kick things off with how awesome freaking Candace Blevins is for joining us today for an awesome little blog interview. Her Bash series really made me squirm in my seat and you know, all that good stuff.
I really do not know why I keep putting myself through the situation where I constantly feel paranoid when I read her books at school because you know how pretty graphic they are.
Well here's a small excerpt for you:
Eight years ago
Angelica
Kayla met me in the bathroom after last period, and watched as I changed out of my super tiny mini-skirt into jeans. God, if my dad saw me in this skirt he’d have an aneurism.
“I can’t believe you lost Brain. God, Ang, he’s the best biker-bitch you’ve had yet.”
Speaking of aneurisms, my dad nearly had one when he found out Kayla called me Ang. He calls me Angel, but says no one else is allowed to shorten my name. One of the reasons I love Kayla is she isn’t afraid of my dad, or any of the other bikers, and she just kept calling me what she wanted.
I shrugged as I buttoned my jeans and stowed the skirt in my backpack. “I got one of the new guys, I’ve only met him a couple of times. He looks like he’s pissed at the world, and I seriously doubt he’s going to be any fucking help at all with my calculus or chemistry homework.”
“He have a cool name?” she asked as we left the bathroom.
“Bash, and best I can tell, it isn’t ‘cause he’s bashful. And damn, the boy is beautiful.” And he’d be so fucking pissed if he knew I’d called him a boy.
“How you gonna break him in?”
I shook my head. “Haven’t decided. He’s actually kinda scary, even for one of my dad’s men. Also, I don’t think he’s that much older than us. I know when he first came, he couldn’t have even the prospect patch yet, ’cause he wasn’t old enough. They treated him like one, which had to suck, but he didn’t get his first patch until a few weeks ago, so I think he just turned eighteen.”
“You know his story?”
I shook my head. “He has a fucked up accent though. He isn’t from around here.”
Kayla showed the assistant principal the note from her mom saying she could ride home with me, and he waved us to the RTMC vehicle waiting in the car line.
I got into the front passenger seat and settled my backpack at my feet as I put my seatbelt on and told him, “Bash, meet Kayla. She’s my BFF and you’re her ride now, too. Not just mine.”
He breathed deep, and I assumed he’d just realized she’s human and not wolf, and I added, “We have a problem, you take care of her first, then me. I can handle myself a few minutes, but she isn’t a fighter. Get me?”
He pulled forward and glanced in his rear view mirror at Kayla before looking forward again. “My orders are to keep you safe, Princess.”
I sighed and leaned my head back, looking at the road instead of him. “Those are your orders from my dad. Thing is, I can make your life a living hell if I want, or I can help make this a cushy assignment until you get your patch. I’ve grown up in the club, I know the drill. When Kayla and I became best friends in the fourth grade, our dads had a talk. Their agreement was she’d come to the house, but never to the club, and there’d be no parties at our house when she’s over. She hasn’t been around ya’ll much at all. Her parents have met my prospect chauffeurs over the years, and they’re mostly chilled about it now, but they’ll need to meet you sometime this week.”
“Basically,” Kayla said from the backseat, “you’re our bitch now. You’re our ride when we need one, and you go get stuff we need, even if it’s tampons at two in the morning. You’ll carry our packages for us when we go shopping at the mall, and if we ask if our ass looks fat when we try on clothes, you’ll be honest and tell it to us straight from a guy’s perspective.”
“And not,” I added, my voice low and deep, “from my father’s viewpoint.” I held my wolf in, so I didn’t growl at him in front of Kayla. “I know you’re supposed to cock-block us, but I also know you can’t actually hurt any of the guys.” He held his hand up, thinking he could silence me, and I said, “Fuck you, asshole. I’ll talk when I fuckin’ want to.”
Now that that is done, please join me in applauding Candace Blevins with us. WHOO! Yeah, I'm not a 'WHOO' kind of girl so just applaud in your head. Or aloud. Whatever works best for you awesome book nerds.
Q: What is for you the perfect book hero?
I don’t think there’s a single description. I’ve fallen in love with good guys, bad guys, antiheros… I need them to be honest, but otherwise, I’m not sure you can put the perfect hero into a tidy little box.
Q: When you start a book, do you already have the whole story in your head or is it built progressively?
In the beginning I was a total pantser. Now, I’m kind of a hybrid pantser/planner. I know my characters inside and out before I start, and I know their backstories, as well as the main events of the book, and the basic ending. However, if I do much more than that, my muse gets bored. She often takes the stories in directions I hadn’t intended. We end up at the same ending, but there are often several fun detours, along the way.
Q: When did you first consider yourself a writer?
When I got my first decently-sized royalty check.
I used to juggle professionally, and I didn’t consider myself a “professional” juggler until I made a good bit of money doing so, as well. For some, the fact they write everyday makes them a writer, and that’s fine for other people, but it wasn’t real for me until I was holding a check.
THANK YOU, CANDACE BLEVINS FOR JOINING US TODAY! It really meant a lot to have you as my first author interview.
Blog you later, awesome book nerds.
