AUTHOR INTERVIEW
Welcome!! It's so great to have you visit my blog again. Thanks for doing this Q&A. Tell us about your favorite restaurant.
My favorite restaurant was called Billy’s. My mother used to take me when I was little, I don’t think it still exists but I still remember it fondly.
The restaurant wasn’t much, more a hole in the wall than a five-star dressy place, the staff wore jeans and checked shirts. The menu, which was just yellow paper, said “Jest Plain Good Food” and that is what it was. The menu included everything from burgers to fresh fish dinners served with coleslaw, fries and hush puppies, all made the country way and served by some of the nicest people I can remember.
My favorite thing was the biscuits, which were the size of tea saucers. One birthday the staff brought me a biscuit smothered in honey. A pink candle was stuck in the middle and the whole freaking restaurant sang happy birthday to me, which makes it one of my happiest, oldest memories. I can still taste the biscuit.
A restaurant doesn’t have to be fancy to be awesome, and to this day I prefer small, local restaurants to five-star chains.
Tell us about the absolute BEST fan letter you have received.The best fan letter I ever received wasn’t one fawning over me or saying how great my books are. Not at all, in fact.
It was a simple letter, less than a page, and it mentioned the Storm Chronicles only in passing.
What it was, was a thank you. A thank you for sending my books to his daughter, who had been badly injured in an accident and recovering. I’d heard about her through a mutual friend and sent all five of the chronicles to her.
This father’s letter meant a lot to me. Helping people escape, letting them have a few hours of excitement through my characters, that is what it is really about. I know I am never going to change the world with my books, but if I can change someone’s world for a day, that is more than good enough.
You wouldn’t see me. I am so not a morning person, to the point that people who come to my door before about ten in the morning have been threatened with grievous bodily harm.
Describe what it’s like to be an author in three words.Most stress ever.
Do your friends think you are an introvert or an extrovert? Why?They don’t think, they know. I am an extrovert. I’m the one who sings karaoke without getting drunk first, the one who randomly talks to strangers and who is most likely not to care what someone else thinks of what I am saying or doing.
This is not to be confused with the rude pickle-heads who think they have the right to be assholes to people they don’t know. I would never do that. But if I am having fun or look silly doing something, I don’t care. I don’t get flustered and couldn’t care less if someone thinks I look silly.
What is something people would be surprised to know about you?Most people are surprised I am a lot older than they think I am. Most people look at me and think I am about ten years younger than I am, between twenty and thirty, then get surprised by how much experience I have in a wide variety of fields.
As far as I am concerned that is a lesson in not judging others by their appearance.
You just won a huge lottery what is the first thing you'll buy?I’m not the kind of person to run out and make a bunch of purchases. I would pay off my car and loans, then look into getting a beach house somewhere. Nothing huge, nothing extravagant, I am pretty happy with my simple lifestyle of writing, fighting and muscle cars.
Do you have a favorite quote, quip, or saying? What is it?“Fuck you, I know shit!” Stolen from the Boondock Saints.
Is there a piece of advice that you have received that has really stuck with you? If so, what was it?I have a mentor and friend who put out his first book before I was born and has something like ten New York Times bestsellers. He is someone I will always look up to. When I put out my first book, Stormrise, I got upset over the first negative reviews. He saw I was upset and said something like this:
Don’t read reviews. No matter what form of entertainment you are in, singing, dancing, writing, whatever, don’t read the reviews. Reviews are not for you and mean nothing when it comes to your work. The vast majority of people neither read nor write reviews, so at the end of the day they matter only to the small number of people who do. Leave them alone and get on with your job, which is putting out the next (song/album/book).
I hold this dear and after three years and ten novels, he isn’t wrong. Reviews are for people who like reviews, not the entertainer.
ABOUT THE BOOK
Title: STORMSeries: Storm Chronicles Book 6Author: Skye KnizleyPublished: April 21st, 2016 Publisher: Vamptasy Publishing Genre: Horror, Urban FantasyContent Warning: Contains violence and horror elementsRecommended Age: 17+Synopsis: On a rainy night in 1971 the cruise ship Crescent Star vanished in the North Atlantic without a trace. No crew, no lifeboats and no wreckage was ever found, in spite of a three-week search.Two days ago, she crashed through and sank a pleasure yacht off the coast of New York, leaving five people dead. The ship has answered no hails and no one appears to be aboard. Agent Raven Storm and a forensic team lead by Aspen Kincaid have been tasked to investigate and bring the ship in, if possible.What happened to 720 crew and passengers and where has the ship been for 44 years?Clue by macabre clue, Raven uncovers the truth of the Crescent Star and faces a villain from beyond the grave.But how can she stop something she can’t see, can’t touch, and that won’t hesitate to use the ones she loves against her?Amazon | Barnes & Noble | GoodReads
Excerpt from STORM by Skye Knizley:
Raven Storm sat up in bed, a scream fighting behind her lips. It had happened again; her father in the shadows, the boom of her pistol, and his body dropping. She’d had the nightmare every night since coming home. Her psyche eval was so bad she’d been dropped from field duty and was investigating UFO sightings in Montana. Not her best job ever.She slid out of bed and padded toward the stairs. Around her was the loft bedroom she shared with her fiancé, Aspen. The walls were painted a soft lavender that was almost gray and matched the carpet. Their king-size bed was covered with a blue flowered bedspread and the nightstands were antiques sent by Valentina from Chicago. Raven ran a hand over the Maltese Falcon poster in the stairwell and turned out of habit to the kitchen, where two scoops of coffee and some hot water soon produced a brew that would be guaranteed to keep her up the rest of the night. She was just sitting down to savor a cup when Aspen’s cell started chirping from its charging plate on the counter.Who the hell is calling her at this hour? Raven wondered.She picked it up and slid her finger over the screen. “Storm.”There was a pause and then, “Agent Storm? Is Aspen Kincaid there?”“She’s sleeping, like normal people, who is this?”“This is Kane, I’m with Agent in Charge King’s office. Please get her, its important,” Kane said.“Who is it?”Raven looked up to see Aspen leaning over the upstairs railing, her purple hair trailing around her face. “King’s office,” Raven replied.Aspen wiped sleep from her eyes. “They have a case for you?”Raven shrugged. “It’s for you, probably a crime scene.”Aspen hurried down the steps and took the phone. “This is Aspen.”She listened for a moment, and turned to Raven, eyes wide. She pressed the speaker button and held the phone out. “Mr. Kane, can you say that again?”“We have a code thirteen emergency. The cruise ship Crescent Star is carrying an unknown preternatural threat and heading toward New York City. I need you to lead a team onboard and stop it before it reaches the one mile marker. You’ll be briefed enroute.”“Kane, this is Storm. Aspen isn’t a field agent, who gave the order?” Raven asked.“King, Agent Storm.”Aspen shook her head. “He knows I’m not an agent, Kane. I’m a lab-rat, I only go with Raven on certain cases, he can’t—”“You have basic field training and he handpicked you, Kincaid. You’re on a chopper in twenty minutes, a car is on the way.”“I want to talk to King,” Raven said.“He didn’t ask for you, Storm,” Kane said.“I don’t give a shit, Mr. Kane,” Raven said. “Code thirteen is the catastrophe code, you’re not sending Aspen—”“This conversation is over, Agent Storm. Agent Kincaid, be ready,” Kane said.
The line went dead. Raven stared at the phone, then looked at Aspen.
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