Hello Delilah and friends, and thanks for letting me take over your blog.
Sometimes, when I try to explain to friends and co-workers (or my boss!) where my ideas come from, I get anything from a raised eyebrow to a polite “that’s interesting” or “I never would have thought of that.” Whether that’s a good or bad thing is unclear. Many of my original ideas come from the murky depths of my sleeping mind.
My latest Soul Mate release, Shifting Auras, started life in 2011 that way—as a half-remembered snippet of a dream. I wrote down what I could remember, and the germ of an idea started there. I wrote out some ideas and put the story aside. When I went back to it, a new idea started coming to me. Perhaps it was all the Marvel movies out there but I began thinking of a group of powered humans, ala the X-Men, and the government agencies they might be working through. The idea of having supernormal powers has always fascinated me. What would it mean to be telekinetic or psychic? Would it be good or bad? What would it mean for us and the world? I didn’t want to go down the road of “mutants are evil” as some current shows and movies have done, so I centered it around a shadow government agency. It’s been so much fun to write the series, and there are more books to come. Part of the challenge is finding powers for my characters. Outside of the popular ones, there are many others to play with, and I’m trying them all out.
I grew up reading anything that my parents had in the house. As it happened, much of what they had was science fiction and fantasy, so I skewed toward that from an early age. When I was younger it wasn’t an accepted thing to do, but I found my tribe, and we wrought havoc together. I could identify with Maya Wingfield, the heroine in Shifting Auras, who always felt like a bit of an outcast. I think that’s what makes these sorts of stories interesting. It’s the idea of not quite fitting in, of not belonging, whether you are a newcomer to school, entering an unfamiliar work place for the first time, or visiting a city where you are unsure of your welcome…or you have the ability to know what a person is thinking. I see it as a burden as much as it is a boon. The need to belong, to find people who accept you, is such a part of the human condition that it cuts across all social strata, whoever you are.
I will pick two people who answer this question to get a free ARC of Shifting Auras. If you could have a superpower, what would it be and why? Post your answer at https://www.facebook.com/ClaireDavonindieauthor/
Again, thank you to Delilah for the opportunity to interact with all you fine folks. If you’re curious about me, I can be reached at the following places in addition to my Facebook page noted above.
Newsletter/mailing list: http://clairedavon.com/mailing-list/
Here is a snippet of Shifting Auras, available exclusively on Amazon…
Maya backed away from him and toward the door, her hands going up in front of her body. Could she get out if she needed to and start screaming for help? Or could he use his power, whether telekinesis or something else, before she got a word out?
“Relax,” Ian said, his voice rising in jagged syllables. “Crikey, your emotions are written all over your face. The sensitive in Hammersmith can probably hear you. Take it down a level.”
He filled the room. She had no doubt he was faster than her and could get to her before she could yank open the door. He probably didn’t even need to move to shut it.
“I’m not here to hurt you, Maya. Bollocks, can’t you feel that? Reach in and find out if I’m telling the truth. I’ll let you.”
Bobbie made a noise and began to retch on the comforter. The air conditioner filtered the sour smell into the room.
“I . . .” she said and stopped. Touching his mind, she felt his shield again, a malleable surface she wanted—needed—to see beyond. A beat of anger at her friend pulsed under the shield before he lowered it just a little. He burned with determination and a sense of mission, but there was also sensual awareness pulsing under the skin. It was something she’d never touched before in a man. It glowed hot with primal need, searing through her and manifesting as red in his aura.
Maya concentrated on her breathing until she was lightheaded from hyperventilating. Putting a hand on her wrist Maya was relieved to feel her heartbeat slowing. Ian’s hands were overlapping on his belt buckle, a posture of waiting but not of ease. She noted with little surprise that his palms had a faint red glow in the center. Telekinetic, then. No surprise. He could, in fact, shut the door even if she got it open. She was trapped inside with someone of unknown motives, who may not have her best interests in mind. Universe rarely did, from what her parents had said.
“Um,” she said and stopped. After several moments of silence Maya relaxed and inclined her head. “You’re a big man and the whole thing is a bit sketchy, don’t you think?”
“It’s dodgy, luv, I get that. Do you think I’m dangerous?”
Maya swallowed, wishing she had a glass of water. Silence filled the room, punctuated only by Bobbie’s piteous noises. She noticed that he hadn’t made any move to go from the room. His aura was barely visible in the dim light. Pink and blue banded together, not mixing but staying distinct. Compassion, then, and dedication. No darker emotions, although something lay deep inside, but it was in a place she couldn’t get to.
“Not dangerous per se,” she said. “Not safe either. Thank you for helping Bobbie.”
Ian made an impatient gesture with his hands, waving them first toward Bobbie and then Maya.
“There is a lot we need to discuss.”
“Please,” she said, putting a hand to her head, feeling an incipient headache begin. “Just go.”
He opened his mouth but then shut it. Still he waited, his heavy scrutiny pleading with her to change her mind. She pointed to the door, aware she was being rude, but in that moment not caring. Too much had happened, and she needed him gone.
He retrieved a business card from his wallet and handed it to her. Their hands clasped momentarily, and electricity danced down her forearm. Without looking, Maya curled her fingers around it, but still gestured toward the door. Finally, Ian nodded.
“Call if you need me. We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t,” she replied. “Thank you but I have no interest in any of your groups.”
“You will.” With that, he made a short bow, spun on his heel, and left.
Maya leaned against the door after he had gone. He felt so familiar, but he was Universe. Never trust the government, that’s what her parents had said. Even if she felt like she should.