Showing posts with label Soul Stealer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Soul Stealer. Show all posts

10 December 2012

Dark and Delicious Heroes

We love our bad boys, don't we?

Lexxie touched on some of the reasons why I like to read about them and watch them in movies. It's all about the attitude. They are smart, sometimes sophisticated, don't care what others think and basically do what they want to get what they want.

And if a bad boy sets his sights on a girl? Well, we know what comes next...fireworks.

Who doesn't like to watch fireworks?

Cain, from my book, Soul Stealer, is one of my greatest bad guys. He's sexy, smart, and a loner. As the General of the Death Squad, he is required to stand guard as a person's soul rips from their body.  He is not supposed to feel for his victims or listen to silly begging for more time. He's heard and seen it all and nothing phases him.

Until the day he comes to kill Sara, a woman working against him to save lives.

Sara is the one person who gets to him and is the only woman he wishes he could spend more time with. Her goodness touches him and for a moment, he feels. A very bad thing for Death.

A good thing for love.

He will fight demons and all the Powers that Be for her, risking his own demise. Can Sara shred the hard case around his heart?

That's what I love to see--bad boys who have attitude but will let one woman in.

Fireworks.

www.kimberleytroutte.com

12 December 2011

Building My Worlds

Our theme this month is about the worlds we create in our books.

I like what my co-bloggers have said about the difficulties and excitement involved with inventing brand new places. Many times the settings in paranormal, SF and fantasy books can become as rich and unique as the characters themselves.

In my books, I take a different approach. The towns where my stories take place should seem very familiar to you, maybe even too familiar. My characters could be fighting demons, or talking to ghosts in YOUR backyard. It's fun for me to imagine that a demon-killer could be the neighbor who puts his trashcans on the street next to mine.

I've brought with me the opening pages to Soul Stealer.

You can tell me if Main Street sounds anything like your town.

Happy Holidays,

Kimberley Troutte
www.kimberleytroutte.com

Soul Stealer
Copyright © 2009 Kimberley Troutte
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

December 23, 2009

He tries to blend in, just another man caught up in the Christmas rush surging down Main Street. Pulling up the collar of his worn bomber jacket, he keeps his chin tucked down. It won’t help matters to be recognized.

He glances through the window of an overstocked toy store. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” blasts from inside. Searching, searching, his eyes rake over the shoppers clamoring for last-minute gifts. Nothing.

The night air sears his lungs, but the icy grip squeezing his heart is not from the cold. He swipes at his watering eyes. He needs to focus, stay alert.

Forcing his legs into a normal gait, neither too fast, nor too slow, he keeps walking. He is almost to the corner with the two-story brick apartment building, the one he walks past every night. The old lady who lives there now refuses to help him. The people down at the shelter are no good to him either. They all say they don’t know where she is.

They lie.

Since his release three weeks ago, he has walked Main Street morning, noon and night, hoping to get lucky. Tonight he wonders if he ever will. The old anger creeps into his chest.
He stops, throws his head back and silently demands of the heavens, How long will I be punished?

There is no answer.

People bump into him as they hurry by, cursing as they go. “Silent Night” blares from the store behind him. Exhaling deeply, he blows white vapor toward the stars. No. He won’t stop searching for her. Not until the day he dies.

And then, for the first time in his long-lived existence, his prayers are answered.

He has the sensation of being shot out of a cannon. His blood explodes through his veins and pounds in his ears. Dizzy, he can’t tell if his feet are still on the ground. The street noises become background static. Colors fuzz.

He sees only her.

Walking at a fast clip on the other side of the street is the flesh-and-body version of the woman in his dreams. Nightmares.

She stops to talk to an old man who lives on the streets. Putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, she points off in the distance toward the homeless shelter. When he balks, she vehemently shakes her head. It’s a cold night and she doesn’t want anyone out in it. Smiling, she watches the old man shuffle off in the direction of the shelter.

He is shocked to see the years on her, especially the curves where she once was athletic-slim. Her long ponytail has been reduced to a short bob cupping her chin. He wonders how different this woman is today, but when she tosses the hair out of her eyes, he sees the confidence of old, and he smiles. She hasn’t changed, at least not in the ways that matter.

Somehow, she senses him. Does she feel the heat from his stare? Slowly, she turns. Across the busy street, her eyes lock onto his. With the golden glow of the lamplight catching like flames in the strands of her blond hair, she is more angelic than he remembered. And when she smiles?

Lord help him, when she smiles, she is even more beautiful than she’d been the night he killed her.

22 August 2011

The Tortured Hero

I am loving this month's theme on characters. Very interesting to see all the hero favs.

For me, I love the tortured hero.

You know the one, he is honor-bound by reponsibility, family, justice. He marches into battle to protect the ones he loves. He jumps in front of a speeding train to save a child, even though he will never see his own baby, or wife again. He loves with his whole heart knowing that in the end he will do what he has to do, even if it rips that heart out.

Heavy sigh.

Cain in Soul Stealer is one of my tortured characters.

His job as Death is to stand sentry as a living soul shreds from a person's body. Cain lives forever, cursed to watch as all the people he ever loved die and go to a better place without him.

His job sucks.

He performs it willingly because:
a) someone has to and
b) he sees it as punishment for the crime he committed at the dawn of time.

He plans on doing his job with dignity and compassion until the end of time.

Until one woman changes all plans. Death shouldn't fall in love with the dying. Should he?

But this is what's great about tortured heroes: they are doomed to living a troubled existence unless a special woman turns things around. She takes away the torture and makes life sweet. Love always wins.

Another heavy sigh.

Santiago, in Catch Me in Castile, has his own torture to deal with. He has his hands full protecting his sister from a dark curse and his family from a very modern-day psychotic killer. There is no way in all holy heck that he should he fall in love, even if Erin makes him happy for the first time in years. No, he needs to push her away to protect her life.
He needs to step back. So why can't he let her go?

Because best laid plans don't always work out when love is involved, do they?

Santiago is so busy saving everyone else, he doesn't realize that he needs saving. Love is the only cure. And that is sigh-worthy.

Do you love tortured heroes?

Thanks for reading!
Kimberley Troutte

www.kimberleytroutte.com

08 March 2010

Happy Samhain Birthday to Me


This month marks the one year anniversary of my first book release: SOUL STEALER.

So I brought cake! Help yourself to a virtual slice.

Thinking back on that day gives me happy chills...

"The Call" from my editor was really an email from Deborah Nemeth. I must have read that letter three times before the news actually sunk in--my first book was going to be published!

I squealed, clutched my heart, and hit my knees. As I thanked God for this amazing miracle, I sobbed. Sobbed, not cried. I had been a caterpillar stuck inside my cocoon for so long, learning, growing, trying my darndest to become a published butterfly. And now it was finally going to happen!

I called my husband. His phone was busy, so I called my parents. Dad answered and, realizing that I had not just been shot, or robbed, or molested, but was in fact crying happy tears, handed the phone to Mom. Mom, of course, cried too. After sharing my news with thrilled hubby, sister, and friends, I wondered what to do next. I stepped outside and to my utter surprise, found one of those big helium balloons stuck in my front lawn. Turning it over, I smiled. It was a Happy Birthday balloon, dropped from the heavens.

Happy birthday, indeed.

How about you? Do you have any good first-time-published stories to share?

Kimberley Troutte
www.kimberleytroutte.com

23 November 2009

The Interview with Death

I am so excited to be here at Beyond the Veil where all the cool people hang out. (I’ll try to keep the squeeing to a sub-ear-drum-busting level). I’ve been banging on the door, begging to come to your party for ages. Maybe with the music playing you didn’t hear me knocking? Anyway, when that cute waiter with the front door keys in his pocket and that ginormous tray loaded with champagne flutes was tricked into, I mean, somehow found his way into, the hall closet…Let’s just say, I’m in. SQUEEE! You can call me by my code name, Kimberley Troutte, and I’ll call you by yours.

Being my first blog here, I wanted to do something special. My plan was to interview the characters from my novella, Soul Stealer, because I thought you might be curious about what’s happening on Main Street. I’m sure you’ve seen the unusual activity around the new homeless shelter. Yesterday, I wandered over there myself, but was a little creeped out by the demonic bodies lying in the street. I accidentally stepped on this dead gray rat-thing with wings and a long pointed tail. Ewww. Still creeps me out. Rumor has it that one guy is killing demons to protect a woman who’s hiding inside the shelter. After a little research, I found out that the woman is my friend, Sara Lane! I sent Sara a letter begging her to come out of there, but Sara claims that the guy (Cain somebody) is drop-dead gorgeous. The only way she is coming out is over her dead body. She promised to answer my interview questions, though, which should be arriving by messenger. Any second now…

*

“Woman, you can’t be serious.” Cain sat on the worn couch and propped his snake-skin boots up on the coffee table.

“Serious as a heart attack.” Sara smiled prettily.

He frowned. “Not funny.”

Stepping over his legs, she sat on the edge of the coffee table and leaned toward him. “It’s just an interview for Beyond the Veil. Easy-peasy.”

Nothing with Sara Lane was ever easy. “Why for all that is holy did you agree to an interview? Demons are salivating right outside your door, hungry to rip the soul out of your body.”

His gaze travelled over that beautiful body of hers that stole the breath out of his chest. Her skin was tan and soft beneath her flowery sundress, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, smelled of tangerines and summer. Everything about her was fresh, vibrant, alive—for now. Sara Lane was living on the borrowed time he’d stolen for her. He should have killed her days ago.

“Come on, Cain. The author is a friend of mine. It’s her first time blogging at Beyond the Veil and she needs to make it good.” Sara rubbed his leg. “Please?”

“She’s not coming here. If we open the door for even a second—”

As if to prove the point, something big and scary smashed against the window. Sara screeched and flew into Cain’s arms and curled up like a scared kitten in his lap.

Cain held her tight and whispered, “I won’t let them get you, Sara.”

In his heart, he knew he was lying. He wouldn’t be able to keep her safe forever, maybe not even for the rest of the night. A fight worse than Armageddon was coming straight for them and when it did, he would battle with all that he had, all that he was. But he was one man against the Powers That Be. He would lose. And when they took her from him, he would be deader than dead. Sure, his heart would still beat in his chest and he would go on, but he wouldn’t be alive, not without her.

They were both living on borrowed time.

Demons, the size of gray possums with wings flew into the windows and banged against the door. Sara coiled her arms around Cain’s neck and hung on for dear life.

“I won’t let you take her!” Cain yelled toward the door.

The banging stopped.

After a long moment of silence, Sara exhaled softly against his neck. “Are they gone?”

“For now.”

“Good. We can do the interview while it’s quiet. Kimberley sent me the questions earlier so we don’t need to open the door.”

He pulled back and looked into those sparkling blue eyes and knew he was a goner. There was no saying “no” to this woman. “Tell me why it’s so important.”

“Because I want people to know us, Cain. Why we broke all the rules. Why I love you so much.”

His heart twisted with grief. She loved him? “People don’t want to know me, Sara. They never have.”

“This will help us. If we can’t get the shelter finished before I…I”—she couldn’t form the words—“…am not around, I want people to understand that the homeless shelter is important. If Kimberley gets the word out, the jerks down at City Hall will have to finish it. I need this Cain.”

“I know.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “What’s the first question?”

Sara got up and retrieved a stack of papers off the countertop. She skimmed the questions. “Oh, it’s an easy two-parter. ‘Who are you, and what is your occupation?’”

Cain rolled his eyes. Nothing was ever easy with Sara Lane. “My name is Cain. No last name. If you say that my brother was Abel and my mother, Eve, no one will believe you. Your friend will be booted out of her blogging job for being a lunatic. Do you want that?”

“No. We’ll just say your name is Cain. Occupation?” The smile fell off Sara’s pretty face.

“You know I can’t say that I’m Death—the guy who stops hearts and stands sentry while a person’s soul is ripped from their body. I am the thing all living creatures fear. Every. Single. One.”

Sara shivered. “Okay. Let’s call it ‘currently between jobs’.”

He grinned. “Or an outlaw.”

Sara read on, “How did you two meet?”

Cain cocked his head. “You want to answer that one?”

“Can’t. How can I possible say that you killed me with a kiss?”

He pulled her down onto his lap. “Don’t forget the part about how I risked everything to steal your soul back so you could finish the shelter. The readers might enjoy the irony of Death being the one man who keeps you alive.”

Palming his cheeks, she gazed deeply into his eyes. “I won’t forget you. No matter what.”

He pressed his lips to hers drinking her in like she was the last glass of water on earth. All of his grief, love, longing poured into that kiss. He prayed it wouldn’t be their last.

Against his lips she whispered. “Forget the interview. We’ve got more important things to do with our time.”

*
Kimberley Troutte is still waiting for that interview. Soul Stealer is available now from Samhain Publishing.

www.kimberleytroutte.com