Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Gail Roughton, War-N-Wit, Inc. - Resurrection

Author name: Gail Roughton
Book Title: War-N-Wit, Inc. - Resurrection
Publisher: Books We Love, Ltd.
Facebook (If you want to share): facebook.com/gailroughton
Twitter (If you want to share):  @GailRoughton

Please tell us about yourself with the following favorites:
         I’m a Mexican food addict.  I could eat Mexican five times a week.  My favorite’s chile relleanos (stuffed bell peppers) though I love chimichangas and tacos and burritos, too.  And guacamole.  I could eat guacamole till it came out my ears. 

Drink (non-alcoholic)?
         Non-alcoholic would be coffee.  Hot in the winter, iced in the summer, but not the fancy kind.  Black.  And I make iced coffee just by pouring it over ice cubes, nothing fancy.  The funny thing is, my grandson picked the iced coffee up at a very early age.  I think he was about one when he indicated he wanted some of mine.  So I gave it to him. Didn’t expect him to like it at all, it was black, as in no cream, no sugar.  And he was one.  He loved it.  Been drinking it ever since.

         Tea olive blossoms.  They’re so light and delicate and the smell to me is out of this world. 

Day of the week?
         Odd as it may seem, I don’t think I’ve got one.  Because I’m pretty much on the computer every spare minute I have, no matter what day of the week it is.

Time of day to write?
         Anytime I can.

Place to write?
         On my laptop on the kitchen table.

         Fall.  There’s nothing like Fall.



         Domestic?  Dogs.  Wild?  Wolves.

         Does writing count?

         You’re kiddin’, right?

         I love music and I have many favorites.  But if pressed for the one that unfailingly sends chills down my spine, it would be Elvis Presley’s rendition of “American Trilogy”, the one that combines “Dixie” with “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”.  Those powerful, powerful, words, and that black velvet voice, especially when it softens down to the “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry.  You know your daddy’s bound to die…and all my trials, Lord, will be over…” 

TV show?
         Of those on now, Bones and Blue Bloods.  Past all-time favorites include Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel. 

         Again, I don’t think I could possibly pick.  Some of them would be the Lord of the Ring trilogy, Dr. Zhivago, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Second Hand Lion, Fried Green Tomatoes, Forrest Gump, Titanic, Desperado, the X-Men series, Sweet Home, Alabama – somebody stop me.


         You’re just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?  Little Women, Gone With the Wind (note that was not included with my favorite movies), Exodus, Look Homeward, Angel, everything Robert Parker wrote which means the Spenser, Jesse Stone, and Sunni Randall series, the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich,  Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde, Dracula – nobody’s stopped me yet?

         Won’t even go there.

         A general use word?  Serendipity.  If it can be a proper noun (two of em, actually) as in a place name, Opelika, Alabama.  I just love the sound of that for some reason. (I have family over there, can you tell?)

         From Look Homeward, Angel, by Thomas Wolfe.  “Each of us is all the sums he has not counted.”  Don’t know if “quote” means only one line, if not, the complete quote is:  “Each of us is all the sums he has not counted.  Subtract us into nakedness and night again and you will see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that ended yesterday in Texas.  The seeds of our destruction are planted in the wilderness, the alexin of our cure grows by a mountain rock, and our lives are haunted by a Georgia slattern because a London cutpurse went unhung.  Each moment is the fruit of forty thousand years.  The minute-winning days, like flies, buzz home to death, and each moment is a window on all time.” 

Well, you asked for it.  I love the acknowledgement of the intertwined connection between all time, all events, all people.  And no, I promise I didn’t stop and look it up.  Memorized that a long time ago.

Now some easy one-word answers:
Coffee or tea?
Veggies or fruit?
Cat or dog?
Plot or not?
Desktop or laptop?
         Whichever I have available.
Pencil or pen?
Rain or sun?
Mountains or ocean?
Plane or train?
Car or motorcycle?
Run or walk?
Casual or dressy?
Indoors or outdoors?
Reading: EBook or paperback?
Reading: Short story or novels?
Theater or rental? 
Vampire or shifter?
Horror or romance?

Tell us about your new/latest release:

Title: War-N-Wit, Inc. - Resurrection
Genre: Paranormal Romantic Suspens

Resurrection.  A secret society.  Not everyone can join, just the elite few who remember their past lives.  Only the Seer knows if those memories are truth or fabrication.  There’s just one problem.  The new Seer is missing in action.  War-N-Wit’s new assignment is a blast from the past! But whose past?

Short Excerpt:
“This Tear of Isis thing. Say it’s real. What does it do?”
“They. What do they do. There’re three of them. If they still exist or ever existed. So what’s one of ‘em doing in the possession of Hedgepath in a restored house on Jones Street in Savannah, Georgia?”
“What’s Magic Man doing in the middle of a hundred acres outside a crossroad like Quitman, Georgia?”
“Point taken. The Tears of Isis are supposed to be just that, of course. Crystalized tears of the Goddess Isis. Discovered in the Temple of Isis during the excavation of Pompeii in 1764.”
“Pompeii? Not Egypt?”
“Nope. Pompeii. Anyway, what they do is, they allow anyone with any trace memories of a past life to view them. Their past lives.”
“Seems sorta iffy to me. If the viewer is the only one viewing them, they could claim they were anything—anybody.”
“Enter the Seers. One Seer for each Tear. And they don’t see just their own past lives. When they gaze into the Tear while another person’s holding it, they see the lives of the other person, not their own.”
For real?”
“That’s the story. Whether it’s real, your guess is as good as mine. I’m too much of a skeptic. I’ve seen too many things having nothing to do with magic, just with people, to ever blindly believe any legend of magic without having the proof in front of my eyes. Or of anything else, either.”
His voice had darkened. It matched the shadows in the room thrown by the flickering flames from the fireplace. That law enforcement background. I took it as further confirmation of my suspicion that all of his experience wasn’t listed on the Bio page of his website. I knew he’d seen things, done things, the ordinary person couldn’t imagine and wouldn’t want to. And I’d never ask about any of it unless he wanted to share. He continued, “So I don’t believe every magic fairy tale I hear unless I experience it myself, or know somebody I trust did.”
I stretched my hand out and picked up the picture again. “Interesting, though. Very pretty. The real thing must be absolutely beautiful, full of changing colors. It even shows some of the colors in the picture.”
Chad reached over and took it from my hand. “Does it? I don’t see anything.”
I looked again. “Hints here and there. Must be the lighting.”

1 comment:

  1. Love Penny's questions and giggled at Gail's fun answers. Also love her war n wit series. Can't wait for the next one!! Best wishes, Gail.