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Welcome Sarah Madison :)

Hi, Sarah, and welcome. Firstly, can you tell us a bit about yourself and your writing?

I have as yet to meet a writer that doesn’t enjoy talking about themselves or their work! I have always written stories about my favorite characters—I just didn’t know it was called fanfiction at the time! I gave all that up when I went to college, putting aside childish things to focus on my career. Then I discovered entire fanfiction communities online—and I started writing for a favorite show. Seventy stories later, someone suggested that I write original stories for publication, and on a whim, I sent one in. It was accepted, and I’ve been writing ever since.

How long have you been writing for?

My earliest masterpiece was when I was five. However, I’d have to say that I’ve been writing seriously for about five years now. Rediscovering my love for writing was like finding the lost key to my secret garden. It was sadly overgrown and neglected, but you could see the outlines of what had once been planted, and it quickly came back to life with some hard work and some ruthless pruning.

Do you have any genres you prefer writing, and if so what are they?

Most of my stories are M/M romance. It would be lovely if I liked writing the contemporary story—that’s by far the most popular! I can’t help but put some sort of twist into it though—a little paranormal, a little mystery, a little science fiction. Time travel, alternate universes, yeah, they’re going to sucker me in every time.

Do you have any genres you prefer reading, and if so what are they? What book are you reading at the moment?

It’s a toss up between mysteries and science fiction really. As much as I like writing romances, I prefer my romance with detective interruptions.

Why M/M?

Wow, I could give you a whole blog post just on this question alone! For me, a big part of the appeal is the equal dynamics between the characters. My favorite shows always seem to be the ones with a strong bromance—and the chemistry between the characters is crucial. I love seeing characters solve crimes or defend the universe together—and I hate to say it, but most traditional heroines leave me cold. I keep saying one day I’m going to write a romance with a heroine that I don’t want to slap twenty pages into the story, and maybe some day I will. Part of my problem has to do with stereotypes in traditional romantic fiction. I know every genre has its own issues with stereotyping, but when I read my first M/M romance, I felt as though I’d discovered adult romantic fiction for the first time. No flowery euphemisms. No purple prose. Two strong characters on equal footing. That’s the way I think relationships should be in real life, so I guess it is only natural that I write what appeals to me.

Do you have a favourite character and/or book you've written? Who, what and why?
Well, that would have to be Tate, from Crying for the Moon. Tate is just so irrepressible. He takes everything in stride, from vampires to werewolves—it’s just all in a day’s work to him. He is genuinely sunny-natured—and as far from me as a character could possibly be. I have no idea how he came into being, but he is one of my most genuine characters.

Are you a panster or a plotter?

I love this question! Definitely a panster! I love a plotty story, and do my best to create them, but if I heavily outline a project, it is an absolute story-killer for me! I am frequently amazed at how my characters take the story in unexpected directions when I give them their heads, and that simply would not happen if I planned everything out in advance. I have a rough idea of the story I want to tell and how I plan to get there, but short of jotting down a few key ideas, the rest is very much by the seat of my pants!

If you could have any superpower or magical ability, what would it be and why? What would you do with it? And yes world domination is an acceptable answer.

Hee! Whenever I’m asked this question, I’m always reminded of the story in which a young man, being sent out on a quest by a wizard, asks if he isn’t going to be given a Cloak of Invisibility or something to help him along. The wizard looks at him witheringly and says, “You are a nobody. You can’t get any more invisible than that.”

I do like asking it myself though. I’m always curious as to how people will answer. Me, I’d like to be able to manipulate time. I never seem to have enough of it.

If you had access to a time machine just once, is there anything you'd go back and change? Either on a personal level or an historical event?

Funny, given how I just answered the last question, you’d think I would be ready with a specific event to change right now, but the answer is no. For good or bad, I’ve arrived at the point that I am in my life by the choices and events that have already occurred. I might choose to change something that would make me more financially solvent right now, but wind up in a different location, never having met the people I love. No, my desire to manipulate time would be to stop it while I get things done and not feel like I’m short-shrifting everyone and everything in the process.

If you could go anywhere in the world, all expenses paid, where would you go, who would you take with you, if anyone, and why?

I’ve done very little travelling in my life, but I recently got to visit the UK with my boyfriend, who is a native. I could only stay a week; it wasn’t nearly long enough. I would go again in a heartbeat and see more of Great Britain with him. It was all rolling green fields, and Jane Austen meets Harry Potter for tea with Lord Peter Wimsey, and Dr. Who just happened to drop in unannounced. It was an absolutely lovely experience. I could spend a week in Oxford alone. I took pictures of muddy lanes and whispered, “I’m in England” every few minutes. Travelling with someone that knows the country is ten times more fun than going it alone too.

If you were stranded on a desert island, what three things (or people) would you want there with you?

Oh dear, this is a tough one! But it would have to be my boyfriend, my dog, and my horse. Hopefully we wouldn’t end up eating each other.

What are your writing and personal goals for 2013?

I was a bit overly ambitious last year. I wanted to have a new story available for submission every quarter. My real life laughed at that kind of schedule and seriously dumped some extra commitments on me. This year, I will be happy to simply write. Write what makes me happy. Write a story that I am pleased with in the end. If someone else enjoys it as well, that’s icing on the cake.

As for personal goals, I need to slow down. I’ve spent the last five years running as hard as I can to stay in one place. It’s been necessary for my work and to stay afloat, but I look at my dog and realize his life is half over. And my mare will turn sixteen this year. I don’t want to look back on this time and regret that I didn’t share my life with the beings that I love because I was too busy working.

What are you working on at present? Would you like to share a snippet?

Oooh! Would I? That would be a resounding yes! The story I’m currently working on places my two main characters in a life-threatening situation—which is paralleled in a dream sequence that takes place during the Battle of Britain in WWII.

This couldn’t be happening. The plane couldn’t be going down.

As production assistant, David McIntyre has been enjoying the heck out of his current assignment: touring the Hawaiian Islands in search of the ideal shooting locations for a series of company projects. What’s not to like? Stunning scenery, great food, sunny beaches...and indulging in his crush on his hot pilot-for-hire, Rick Sutton.

Everything changes when a tropical storm and engine failure force a crash landing on a deserted atoll somewhere in the South Pacific. Sutton’s injuries and a lack of food and water make rescue imperative, but it takes an intensely vivid dream about the Battle of Britain to make David see that Rick is more than just a pilot to him. Will David gather his courage to confess his feelings to Rick—before it’s too late?

Still fighting to keep the nose of the plane up, Sutton guided the recalcitrant aircraft toward the so-called clearing, the ground rising up to meet them far faster than was comfortable. David found himself leaning back in his seat, bracing his hands on the console as the tops of trees scraped the underside of the plane. Branches swiped at the windshield, and David had the sudden impression of being in a car wash scene as written by Stephen King.

“Duck your head!” Sutton barked. “Wrap your arms around your legs!”

“And kiss my ass goodbye?” David shouted, raising his voice over the increasing noise as he obeyed Sutton’s orders.

Incredibly, Sutton laughed. It was an oddly comforting sound. Like everything was somehow going to be all right because Sutton was at the controls.

The moment of humor was gone in a flash. The plane screamed with the sound of tearing metal and the sharp, explosive crack of tree limbs and breaking glass. David kept his head down and his eyes closed, praying to a God he was pretty sure had more important things to do than to keep up with the well-being of one David McIntyre.

Despite being strapped in his seat, his head and shoulder thumped painfully against the passenger side door as the plane thrashed wildly. There was a moment of eerie, blessed silence, and for an instant, the assault on the plane seemed as though it had lifted. Eye of the storm, David thought, just before the plane hit the ground.

Someone had left the window open and it was raining on him. How incredibly annoying. He shifted, intent on reaching for the offending window, when a jolt of pain ran through his shoulder and he gasped. When he opened his eyes, nothing made any sense at first. Then he remembered the crash, and realized that his side of the plane was pointing up at the sky. The rain was coming down in a steady stream through the broken windshield. The sound of the rain on the metal hull of the plane was nearly deafening.

He winced at the pain in his neck when he turned to look over at the pilot’s seat. Sutton was slumped to one side in his chair, unmoving.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” David murmured, hastily undoing his seatbelt so he could reach across to Sutton. His skin was cold and damp where David touched it, and adrenaline pounded through David’s veins as though he could jumpstart Sutton’s heart by sending his own pulse beating through his fingertips. “Sutton! Rick!”

David fought to free himself of his seat, twisting for greater access to the other side of the cockpit. When the seatbelt came open, he fell half across Sutton. Sprawled practically in his lap, David could now see the nasty cut on the left side of Sutton’s temple. The pilot’s side of the plane had taken a lot of damage, and David yelped as he encountered a sliver of glass. Bits of the windshield and console were scattered like confetti over Sutton’s jacket. “Sutton!” The lack of response was unnerving. He worked a hand down into Sutton’s collar and frantically felt for a pulse.

He could have kissed the man when Sutton suddenly groaned.

“Rick, are you all right? Can you understand me?” David began feeling around for additional injuries.

“I could never understand you, McIntyre,” Sutton said in a fair approximation of his slow drawl. Even the half-smile was a good imitation of his usual expression. “Who tours the toughest jungles in the South Pacific dressed to play golf?”

“Hah-hah, very funny, keep your day job. Oh, no, wait. Forget that. You’re not so good at the day job either.” Relief made him almost giddy. They were going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay.

Until Sutton tried to move and caught his breath painfully.

“What, what is it?” David tried to reach down around the other side of him, to see what the problem was. He felt something wet, warmer than the rain coming in the windshield, and he pulled back his hand to stare at it in shock.
His hand was covered in blood. The metallic odor of it caught him unaware and almost made him gag.

“Shit,” Sutton said mildly. “I seem to be stuck on something.”

“Stuck?” David knew he was practically shrieking, but what the hell was he supposed to do, miles from nowhere, with an injured man impaled on God knows what, who might die and leave him here all alone. “Radio,” he said, sharply. He tried to snap his fingers, but the blood caused them to slip against each other without a sound. He hauled himself back over to his seat so he could access the radio without having to twist his spine into a pretzel.

Sutton reached with his right hand for the radio mike, grunting just a little as he did so.

“Give me that.” David snatched the mike away from him. “Lie still. Don’t move. Try not to bleed to death.”

Sarah Madison is a veterinarian with a busy practice, a big dog, an even bigger horse, and an extremely patient boyfriend. When she is not chasing down a cat for vaccinations or wrestling a snake to administer a dewormer, she is relying on the smoke detector to tell her that dinner is ready. If anyone should come across Hermione’s Time Spinner Device, they can contact Sarah at akasarahmadison[at]gmail[dot]com.

Her website is www.SarahMadisonFiction.com All her links are there (Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook…)

Crying for the Moon is available at Dreamspinner Press and is a Recommended Read by Coffee Times Romance and jessewave, and runner up in the Paranormal Romance category of the Love Romances and More Golden Rose Awards


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Apr. 10th, 2013 03:16 am (UTC)
Interview and an excerpt!
User sarah_madison referenced to your post from Interview and an excerpt! saying: [...] I've got a fun little interview [...]
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Latest Month

April 2017


WIPs aka the to do list

The Harp and the Sea
One Word
Comes a Horseman
A Mage to Forget
Double Exposure
Dragon's Price
A Sword to Rule
A Wind of Roses
Finding Home
A Year and a Day
Tempus Institute
Jazz Detective
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