It’s the month of green so I’m all in for St. Patrick’s Day, being part Irish. Let’s kick off the green month, welcome one and all! Grab a beverage of choice, something sweet and sinful. No-no, not the men. What’s the matter with you? You know the hands-on rules… The guest gets first pick! 😉 Take a comfy seat for another, or a first, spin in the Round Pen.
I’m thrilled to welcome my wonderfully talented guest today, Cate Masters, who is sharing her book, The Griffin’s Secret with us! I think those who can take a regular fairy tale we grew up with and turn it into their own are super talented. I’ve never done it, but maybe I’ll give it a try some day. 😀
For now, please show Cate some real Ranch love!
Before I get to the nosy 5-3-4 part of this interview, tell us a bit about you.
Cate: Thanks so much for having me at the Ranch, Calisa! I’ve been married to my best friend for 37 years. I’m a lucky grandma of three wonderful boys, all of whom live with us! Our home is very lively, lol
CR: Ours too! We have five granddaughters and, though they all don’t, the oldest one lives with us. Hmm, all boys, all girls…could be a story there. 😆 I’m right behind ya’ll at 32 years this September, Cate. Congratulations on the time! Okay, I’ll begin with five questions, then follow with three more, and end with four final ones.
My writing area at the moment is in my recliner in a corner of my living room. What does your writing space look like?
Cate: Wherever I carry my laptop, lol. Sometimes the dining room table, where I can catch some sunshine to chase away the winter blahs, and sometimes in bed at night. When I need to break out of my routine (or escape the grandboys’ chaos, lol), I go to the library or a coffee shop.
CR: For a lot of writers it’s a life-altering event coming up with titles and character names. Others it comes as naturally as breathing. Which is it for you?
Cate: Rarely is either a natural occurrence. The name has to fit the character or I keep changing it till it does. Only once have I begun with a title (for my paranormal, Death Is A Bitch).
CR: What advice would you offer aspiring and new writers?
Cate: The most important thing is persistence. If you love to write, just keep writing what you love.
CR: The constant shift of the industry makes me often scratch my head and ask ‘what next?’ So, what do you think it takes to be a successful author at the moment?
Cate: I’m still scratching my head! Sometimes stories seem to just take off with readers. I think word of mouth is a powerful thing, and it’s a strike of lightning that either happens or doesn’t.
CR: I completely agree. If anyone finds the secret, don’t forget to share! Who would you like to meet in the publishing industry- dead or alive- and why?
Cate: Neil Gaiman has been an inspiration for a long time. I love his stories.
CR: I admit, I have no idea who he is. Guess what I’ll be Googling? LOL It’s time for 3 in 1! I’ll ask the questions and you answer them in one word. 😆
Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter?
CR: Me too on the food choice. 🙂 Well done!
Okay, Flash four. Ready? What are you working on now?
Cate: I’m working on several WIPs, but nothing even close to being finished at the moment.
CR: What are you sharing today?
Cate: My fantasy novella, The Griffin’s Secret, is a re-imagined Grimm’s fairy tale in a magical, rock and roll setting in current day.
The Griffin’s Secret
Reimagined fairy tale/fantasy romance novella
Publish Date: 5/12/2015
About 33,000 words
Jackson Grant had it all—the girl he loved, his Harley, and his guitar. Until a tragic accident stole it all away. Now, more than scars and a tattoo remain. Jackson has a secret. Cursed by his dead girlfriend’s mother, he can never fall in love again or his beloved will die. With his heart on lockdown, he keeps to himself—until a roadie gig with Malcontent, the world’s most popular band, entwines his fate with sweet, wounded Layla’s…
Music is what Layla lives for. She has no choice. She’s bound by magic to serve Malcontent, cursed to propel them to stardom with her musical powers. Then Jackson appears and gives her hope that he’s the hero who will save her. A reluctant hero, yet one she can’t resist. But freedom will come at price—and who will pay…?
Cate: Kensington’s Lyrical Press will release it on May 12. It’s available for preorder now:
The faint scent of an exotic flower on an ocean breeze hit him the second the girl walked in. Every part of his body stood at attention, taking in the way she moved. The curve of her slender hips. Those long legs…they’d wrap around the back seat of his Harley perfectly. Wrap around him perfectly, too.
A flip of her onyx-silk hair sent it behind her shoulder as she sat opposite. “Who are you?”
Good question. He’d been seeking the same answer for too long. “Jackson Grant.”
Her eyes darkened, deep brown to charcoal diamonds. “Why are you here?”
“For the roadie job.” Was she the first gatekeeper? A gate she kept locked, he’d bet. Or maybe she was another test. Kev had warned him there’d be tricky questions and to answer straight. Something told him she asked out of curiosity.
“You think you’re up for such a demanding job?”
Again, the impression hit him she was making these questions up as she went along, ad-libbing off his replies.
He’d play. “I’m strong. Dependable. I follow orders, keep my head down, and stay out of trouble.” And he liked his privacy.
Her features smoothed, hard as porcelain. “Do you.” Not a question.
He’d answer anyway. “Yes.”
Did disappointment curl her lip? Or boredom? Why did he care? If he could, he’d blast out of there before his own curiosity got the better of him. Already, she’d gotten under his skin. Crazy how the tat no longer singed him, but now twisted like a trapped animal.
With a plastic smile, she batted her eyes, and the false flirtation didn’t suit her. “So. You’re a yes-man.”
The way she said it, he’d be no different than any other roadie serving the great rock star, Malcolm Fetterman. Fine by Jackson. The less he stood out, the better. Except for her. He hated to think of her glossing over his presence, but that would be better, too.
He drummed his fingers on the table. “I need the job.” Where the hell was Malcolm anyway? The longer he stayed with her, the more he wanted to. Definitely couldn’t afford that kind of trouble. He glanced at the open door, hoping he wouldn’t have to go through the same interrogation again.
She tapped the table. “You’d have to travel constantly.”
“Perfect.” No different than his usual way of life. Except this time, his paycheck would remain steady.
“You wouldn’t miss your family?” She dipped her head. “Your girlfriend?”
He curled his lip this time. No one’s business but his. He shifted in his seat. “They’re better off.”
Her brows knit, and then her expression became unreadable as the Sphinx. “The hours are long, and the equipment’s heavy. Everything has to be exactly as Mal orders.”
Did he imagine it, or had she winced at her own words?
He shrugged. “It’s his show.” Someday, Jackson would have his own roadies. And would treat them much better than Malcolm Fetterman did, if the stories proved true.
Her steely focus cut into him. “Mal doesn’t hire musicians except for those in the band. And there aren’t any openings in Malcontent.”
He didn’t allow himself to blink. “No problem.”
“But you play, don’t you?” Her gaze dropped to his callused fingertips drumming the tabletop.
He drew his hand down. “No.” A necessary lie. She might suspect, but couldn’t possibly know the truth. Almost like leaving one of his limbs behind, he’d locked his Fender in storage in New Jersey with his paltry possessions for six months. By then, he’d know whether this gig worked out.