Monday, December 22, 2014

Ink Motions with SE Babin

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Sheryl bio pic


Bio - S.E. Babin has a passion for writing books with a paranormal twist. Whether it's romance or mystery, she loves taking the norm and turning it into the extraordinary. Her love of reading turned into a curious exploration to see whether or not she could write her own novel. Beginning with random, terrible poetry and a slightly popular reimagining of Beowulf's Grendel in her high school English class, Sheryl spent way too much time in the library, killing any chance of her becoming a cheerleader or anything even remotely cool.


 

Ink Motions - Interview

 

How do you get an idea for your novel? Everything for me start out with a “what if” question. Once I have that question, the rest just starts to roll.

 

What is your writing style?  Do you just sit down and write or do you create? I am usually a pantser, meaning I just sit down and write whatever comes to mind. I did plot one novel out from start to finish a few months ago, though. I have to admit not plotting is much more fun. It’s like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to find!

 

Who is the "Writing Muse" in your life? I.E. who gets your juices flowing? This is a tough question. It’s not a “who,” it’s more of a what. The what is life. Over hearing a conversation in the grocery store or seeing people interact can often trigger book ideas.

 

How many novels have you written including all work in progresses you are currently working on? I’ve written four novels to date and I have three in progress right now.

 

Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about there writing that captures your soul? So, so many! I love Jim Butcher, Ilona Andrews, John Green, Liane Moriarty, Jill Mansell and Richelle Mead. Too many to name!

 

What is your favorite plot line type? I love redemption stories, and I also love rags to riches, or cowardice to heroics.

 

Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write? Yes, for me this is simple. Sit down, write, do it again, edit, write, repeat.

 

What is a good villain? I love a good villain! My favorite villains are those who are relatable. We know why he’s doing what he’s doing and we understand it. His actions might not be right, but darn if we can’t help but empathize with him.

 

 

TheHuntForSnow

 

Excerpt from The Hunt for Snow - I nodded, squared my shoulders and started walking to the devil’s house. As I stood on the porch, the smells of home cooked food and wood smoke made my stomach growl. I really couldn’t get over how much the house had surprised me. Either Rumpel was a master at illusion, or this was how he lived all the time. Maybe it was a little bit of both. I knocked on the door, surprised when it opened underneath my hand.

The inside was just as homey as the outside. Comfortably worn chairs circled the small living area. A small fire crackled cheerily in the hearth. Kitschy knickknacks littered the tables and the shelves, depictions of small town life. Very Thomas Kinkade. And very unlike the man I expected Rumpel to be. I looked into the kitchen area and saw a tall man stirring a pot. His clothes fell on his lanky frame, clean but worn.

He set the spoon down and turned to face us.

I couldn’t help it. I blinked, opened my mouth to speak, shut it, and then blinked again. Rumpelstiltskin was drop-dead gorgeous. I looked over to Belle and Cyndi and both of them had their mouths wide open.

A smirk appeared on his face. “Why is it everyone thinks I’m hideous?”

“Ummm,” I said eloquently.

He shook his head, said something under his breath, and gestured for us to sit around the large circular table in his dining room. It was made out of a dark wood, the surface scarred from years of overuse. We meekly sat down, amongst the disgusted grumblings of Robin Hood. “I swear,” he muttered under his breath, “you woman are all the same. Struck dumb at the sight of a pretty face.”

“Shut up,” I muttered in annoyance. Rumpel was not just another pretty face. He was reminiscent of an ancient warrior, an angular face highlighted with strong cheekbones, and deeply tanned. A thin white scar ran down from the side of his right eyebrow to the bottom of his lip, but it did nothing to detract from his beauty. Instead, it just enhanced it. His eyes shimmered with ancient magic, a maelstrom of pictures and images floating through them. One moment gray, the next moment a haunting tawny gold, they were the most fascinating thing about him. Jet-black hair hung around his face and settled at the tops of his shoulders.

He reached up to one of his cabinets, exposing powerful tanned arms, scarred from his upper biceps down to his lean hands. His face and body told a story of grudges and power plays and ancient feuds. He was both terrifying and gloriously beautiful.

“Stew?”

I glanced around at my friends, still struck dumb, then at Robin who was sitting at the table with his arms crossed looking pissed off at the world. I shrugged. “Yes, please. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Do not thank me yet,” he said, his voice a deep rasp as if unused for years. “We haven’t begun to deal.” He looked over his shoulder at me, those haunting eyes seemingly piercing through my soul and unveiling my deepest secrets. “You are here to deal, yes?”

I swallowed and nodded.

“Good.” Rumpel busied himself with clattering around the kitchen and serving us up some of the stew he was making in the massive pot on the stove.

I sat there dumbly, staring at his powerful frame when Cyndi leaned over. “Close your mouth. You’ll attract flies.”

I closed it and glared at her. “You’re just as guilty,” I accused.

She smiled. “Hard to act normal around a vision like that.” Her gaze roamed over his body in a frank, appraising glance I’d never quite seen her use before.

“Stop staring at me, orphan, or I will tear your eyes right out of your head.”

Oh snap.

Cyndi’s eyes widened and a brilliant, beatific grin spread across her face. I stared at her in horror. “Freak,” I muttered.

“He likes me,” she whispered.

Blurb - Every ten years a convention is held in a neutral location where people from all the realms come together and reunite. This is no ordinary conference, though, because everyone who shows up holds a place of honor in the legends of old. But there’s one person who doesn’t care that Earth is neutral territory. The Evil Queen, Naomi, is out to settle a score, and she’s brought along one of her most talented henchman to teach the one who got away a harsh lesson.

 

Snow’s past is shrouded in mystery. Mild cryptozoologist by day, private investigator by night, Snow is dead set on one thing — staying far away from the Huntsman who haunts her dreams. When she shows up to the conference with her two best friends in tow, things start going awry right away. Mere minutes after arriving, they find themselves thrust back into the world they’ve tried so hard to avoid. Now, along with the help of her friends, Snow is struggling to stay one step ahead of the queen who wants to destroy her — and the Huntsman who wants to possess her at all costs.

The hunt for Snow is on. But who will find her first?

Buy Links - http://www.amazon.com/Hunt-Snow-Fairytale-League-Book-ebook/dp/B00O2FZXUG/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&sr=1-1&qid=1419017141

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