Contest & Interview: Celebrating Romance Author Isabelle Santiago

Nights of Passion welcomes back Romance Author Isabelle Santiago!  We’re so happy to have you here again.

Isabelle Santiago -Thanks Susan! It’s a pleasure to be here.

SHC – For our viewers who haven’t met you before, please, share a little about yourself? 

IS – Well, I’m currently a stay at home mom, enjoying watching my little peanut grow, learn and explore the world that surrounds him. Before that, I was a Barnes and Noble employee and I loved going in at 7 am when the store was empty and quiet, and enjoying the smell of new books and coffee brewing. When the peanut is old enough to go to daycare, I plan on going right back to work. I mean, discount on new books? I’m all about that.

Before my foray into books and writing, I was involved in the arts. From middle school up until college I did show choir and theatre, including starring in several musical productions such as “West Side Story”, “Fame”, and “Once Upon a Mattress”. The natural progression from that was directing, and I spent two and a half years co-directing several musicals at one of the local high schools in my community. Those were some of the most fun and most challenging years of my youth. The hours were long, the pay was little, but the passion burned hot. I have such fond memories of those times.

For fun, my husband and I went karaoke hopping. He introduced me to karaoke when I was a junior in high school (we weren’t married then, but I think my singing made him fall in love with me, lol). For nearly 7 years we met with friends for singing and drinks and hot wings every Wednesday night. I went on to compete in several competitions and scored lots of great prizes, including watches, money, and spa certificates. It was a total blast.

SHC – Have you had any adventures in life that has particularly inspired you?

IS – I find inspiration everywhere – the change of seasons, music, people watching… little things always manage to spark ideas. But History is one of my muse’s biggest triggers. I love visiting places rich with history.

One of my favorite places is Newport, RI. I got engaged there, amidst the mansions and the cliff walk, and I’ve sworn to myself I would write a book set there at some point in my life.

I also thoroughly enjoy mythology and fairy tales. And I dream of traveling Europe and taking millions of photos which I’ll scrapbook and use to dream of far off lives and characters.

SHC – I know our viewers who write will want to know how you balance being a mom and a writer.  Any helpful tips to share?

IS – Honestly, this is something I’m still figuring out myself. It is NOT easy. Peanut takes up a huge chunk of my time. I don’t allow myself to resent it though. He’s only young once. So I enjoy playtime and singing time and dancing time and all the other silly mommy things during the day. At night, when dad gets home, I ask him to keep an eye on the bitty and give me at least a half hour. That’s when I regroup. I focus on a scene or some dialogue or some edits, or even just outline. Something to feel productive.

Those little bits help a lot. I’ve managed to get to 30k on a WIP without even knowing it. So just make small, achievable goals, and it will fill in that big picture.

SHC - Now your newest book, ZERAH’S CHOSEN, has just come out.  It does have a great cover. Please, tell us all about it. 

IS – Zerah’s Chosen is my heart-book. It was the story that convinced me I should become an author. I’d written for fun for several years, mostly fanfiction and poetry, but when Zerah first started forming in my mind, the world was so vivid and so specific, I had to put it down on paper. It has seen several incarnations. When I first began, I didn’t know it would be a series. I started writing Book II before I realized it wasn’t quite right- something was missing. That’s how Book I came to be. After I completed it, the rest of the series just became clear and I knew where I had to go. I hope others come to love it as much as I do.

In Zerah, Guardians of Water, Air, Fire, Earth, Life and Death are chosen by The Beings to serve their people. Able to feel the emotions the Beings cannot, they help their world stay in balance.

Guardians live and die together, but when Kieran is born with the marks that prove he’s the Guardian of Death, his mother hides him instead of giving him up to the temple. She loves him too much to lose him. But then he starts seeing people die, and they’re begging him for help. Trying to remove the “curse”, he inadvertently kills a seer and is brought to the attention of the temple.

His mother is imprisoned and he’s turned over to the temple. The rest of his life, he’s expected to live there, study with the other Guardians, learn the right ways to use his power.

Amaya, the embodiment of Water, breaks through his brittle shell, helps him to see that all of life isn’t bleak, but they’ve sworn a vow and love for one another isn’t part of it. He’ll never know the people he must eventually lead into the next life, never know love, never be free.

If he stays…

Would you like a peek? Here’s an excerpt for your enjoyment:

The Dark One

The crowd gathered in the Great Hall of the House of Eukleides waited with eager anticipation for the death sentence of a woman none of them knew. They huddled along the edge of the expansive rotunda, gathered in the portico’s colonnade, hung over the second story balcony. In a land where disobedience meant Divine Judgment, they watched, impatient to see who had been bold enough to go against the Code. Their voices, en masse, created a mind numbing hum, a swarm of hornets eager to attack.

Kieran glared at them, challenging them with his eyes.

Bronze double doors opened with a heavy thud, ripping his attention from the crowd. The excited whispers died. All eyes turned toward the deliberating jury of High Priests as they walked into the Great Hall. Kieran cursed their dour faces under his breath. He knew what they would say.

Everyone around him stood at attention, but he remained seated. He would not now, or ever, give them honor they did not deserve.

With a heavy heart, Kieran watched as a woman was brought in and forced to stand in the center of the room. She looked nothing like the tender-hearted mother he knew, with her soft hands and loving smile. Instead, her delicate wrists and ankles were bound with thick rope. Her long, ebony hair fell disheveled over her face, a clear sign of dishonor. The tattered remains of a white hava draped her body, soiled and ripped, barely held up by the broche on her right shoulder. Still, she stood with pride, her posture straight and her shoulders back. A woman with nothing to be ashamed of.

His throat thickened. Guilt burned a hole in his stomach. He’d woken that morning on a comfortable bed covered in plush linens. He’d eaten from a buffet of fruits and grains, and washed himself with warm, clean water. Meanwhile, she’d sat alone in a dark cell all night. No telling what abuses she’d suffered there. Whether they’d even allowed her water to drink.

Seven of the priests sat, almost in unison, on a long stone bench, their robes sweeping the floor, while one near the center, Ophiuchus, remained standing. Kieran glared at him, the head of the House of Eukleides, the man who proclaimed himself the mouthpiece of the Beings.

Kieran knew with absolute certainty that Ophiuchus had never once heard the Voices, never felt Their presence. The weight of it would have bowed the old man’s shoulders, would have painted shadows in eyes that didn’t sleep. Kieran sneered. No one knew what a connection to the Beings meant better than he did.

Ophiuchus spoke directly to the woman who stood before him. “You have shown a blatant disrespect for the Code in the handling of your son. From the moment of his birth, he was marked for service at the Temple. After his weaning, you were to bring him in for training. How do you account for your selfish indulgence? Do you know the danger you have placed upon us all?”

Kieran winced at the charges she faced. It took all his self-control not to speak up for her, but an outburst would only make matters worse.

“I make no apology for what I have done.” She kept her head high, though tears shimmered in her silvery eyes. “He is my son, given to me by the Higher Beings that I might be blessed with motherhood. It is what I prayed for and it was granted. How could I give him up when I had only just received him?”

“It does not excuse you. This child, with the mark of the Dark One upon him, should have been delivered to the Temple years ago. Now, we have seen the consequences of such frivolity. A man is dead, a seer from your province. How do you account for this?”

Kieran fought the memories that surfaced at the mention of the old seer. He bit down hard and tasted the metallic tinge of blood. Nausea filled him. He envisioned the man’s milky white eyes, the look of horror on his face when he realized just who, or rather, what Kieran actually was.

His mother didn’t flinch at their accusation. “I take full responsibility—”

“No!” Kieran jumped from his seat. “That is not true!”

Strong hands caught him and pushed him back down, the faces of the two armed guards at his left and right expressionless.

She never looked at him. “I accept my punishment with humility. I know the Beings to be full of mercy.”

“Very well then.” The Priest rubbed at his thick grey beard. “In accordance with the Code, we, the adjudicators of the House of Eukleides sentence Najad of the Province of Aipa to public execution, to be carried out at first light tomorrow.”

“No!” Kieran fought the hands that kept him down. He could not let her do this. It was his fault. All of it.

Harsh whispers traveled with lightning speed, the noise deafening. The weight of the crowd’s macabre joy filled the room. He lost all sense of reason. Time slowed. Desperation fueled something dangerous in him.

He recognized the sensation. This time he didn’t fear the surge of power that filled him. He embraced it, fueled it with his rage, bitterness, and remorse.

Sudden silence broke the footpace of time.

Each person’s soul began to separate from their bodies, called on by his authority over them. Their delicate spirits became a tangible cloud of life that hung above their heads like halos. He reached for the cloud above the High Priest’s head and tugged at it, soft at first, then harder, willing it to come free from the man’s body.

Ophiuchus grasped at his neck. His wrinkled skin bunched in a pained, strangled expression as he struggled to breathe.

“She will not die.” Kieran’s voice, like rolling thunder boomed throughout the chamber.

Time returned, racing through the crowd with the swift strength of a tsunami. Eyes stared at him wide with horror. The guards stepped away in alarm.

“Restrain him!” Person after person called out orders until voices came from every direction, circling him.

“Enough!” his mother commanded.

Immediately, the spell of death dissipated from his hands. Ophiuchus’ breath came in heavy, panted gasps. He fought the very atmosphere, drank it in as though he knew each gulp of air might be his last. Kieran gathered sadistic pleasure in Ophiuchus’ suffering.

“Is this what you want?” Najad faced him. “With this senseless act you prove only that everything they fear about you is true. This is not who you are, Kieran.”

The accusation in her voice tightened his chest. “I cannot let you die. Not because of me.” He fought the childish tears that attacked him, refused to cry in front of so many condemning eyes. He would not give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d broken him.

“If you had killed that man, I could never forgive you.”

Her words pierced his heart. He froze, uncertain what to say or do. Didn’t she realize he did it for her, for them?

“If you ever kill a man of your own accord,” his mother cut into his thoughts, “you go from being a victim of circumstance to being a murderer. There is no mercy for those who take lives senselessly. The power that lives within you would consume you and you would become the very thing you fear. You are not Death, Kieran. You simply control it. Do not let it control you.”

“It isn’t fair!” he shouted, angry with her for not understanding, angry with himself for having lost control. “Remove this burden from me! I do not wish to be marked!” He ripped his wrists, scratched at the spiky black tattoos that had branded him into servitude from birth until blood leaked onto the stone floor.

“Take the child away,” Ophiuchus called out, “before he harms himself.”

He fought the unmerciful grips on his arms. He would not leave until he saw his mother to safety. “Let me go!” he shouted. Another wave of dark energy flooded him, this time without warning. The very foundation of the room shook. The crowd gasped.

“Be still.” His mother’s voice calmed the demons inside of him. He broke free of the guards and rushed to her side, fell to her feet, and wrapped his arms around her. “I will go with you. I will go wherever you go.”

“Kieran,” she whispered as though they were the only two in the room. The tips of her fingers grazed his hair.  “Look at me.”

He glanced up, unable to fight the tears when faced with her all-seeing eyes.

“Perhaps you are too young to understand that in life, all have a purpose. Mine was to bring the Child of Darkness into the world, that he might know love and compassion. Not just death. Yours, Kieran,” she sighed, a weary little breath that signaled her exhaustion. “Yours is yet to be determined. Find peace in knowing that I have done my part. It is time to set the balance straight. Rules are to be followed, peace to be kept. When these things are disrupted, someone must be held accountable.”

“But I did it,” he cried out, “I killed the old man!” Chaos traveled like a wave amidst the crowd. One of the Priests slammed a gavel onto the stone bench.

“We command that the witnesses be escorted out. This matter has become a private hearing.”

Guards herded the audience, despite their groans and complaints, through the double doors that led outside and slammed them shut. The sound echoed against high limestone walls and marble ceiling tiles.

“Is this truth that you speak, child?” Ophiuchus’ brows furrowed in displeasure.

“It is.” Kieran forced himself away from his mother to stand before them. “I did not mean for it to happen. The man meant only to heal me of my curse.”

“It is not a curse. Your branding is a blessing from the Beings.”

“No blessing could be complete without my family.”

“The bond between you and your mother is troubling,” the Priest said. “As Guardian you should not have formed it.”

The men leaned in to whisper among themselves. Ophiuchus nodded and turned his attention back to Kieran.

“Your murder of this man, though unfortunate, was not purposeful. You lost control because you were never trained. But you are marked, which means you have been bonded to the Dark Stone. With the new group of Guardians growing older, time is not an option. To wait for another born with the mark would unbalance our society. Zerah has never been without a soul keeper. We cannot afford to lose your power because of a triviality.”

“A triviality? I killed a man. Should I not die too? Does his blood not call for restitution? I lost all control. I killed him and I deserve to die.”

“The blame lies on your mother for not delivering you according to the Code.”

“If she dies, then I shall die with her. I will not be the one to carry her soul into Arezh. I refuse.”

The priests turned away, speaking to one another in hushed whispers.

Kieran’s stomach turned. He had no idea what their sudden silence meant.

His mother’s eyes closed in prayer. Her lips moved in silent worship. Did she beg for mercy, forgiveness, or did she seek to clear her sins one final time? Kieran followed her example, and closed his eyes in quick prayer to the Beings he’d lost all faith in, the ones who demanded a task of him heavier than he could carry. He would do whatever They asked of him as long as his mother’s life was spared.

The eight men straightened and turned to him, their faces set, and Kieran took a deep breath.

Ophiuchus spoke the final verdict. “It is the decision of the House of Eukleides, under the divine influence of the Higher Beings, that Najad of Aipa be held in captivity for the remainder of her days.”

“Captivity?” Najad gaped at them in shock.

“She will be held in the dungeon, never to step on the Holy Grounds of Zerah again. Find comfort, Kieran, Guardian of the Dark Stone, that your mother will be alive and fed. You, Najad of Aipa, will suffer enough, alive but unable to see your only child grow into the powerful man he will become. The day will come when you will wish you’d perished rather than be left to die alone.”

Content with their decision, the high priest summoned the guards. “Take this boy to the Temple immediately and call forth Master Iagan.”

“Wait!” Kieran reached for his mother’s hands. “Let me say goodbye.” The guards lifted him off the floor by the waist. He fought them, but their physical strength far surpassed his smaller frame. “Mierma!”

To his surprise, she smiled sadly, but no fear or bitterness marred her gaze. Her lips shaped the words he wanted so desperately to hear.

I love you.

He tucked them away into the very depths of his soul for safekeeping.

Those three words would have to last him a lifetime.

***

SHC - Brava!  I love looking behind the book to its origins.  I’m always curious if you did special research for the book?

IS - Zerah draws from several religious and cultural backgrounds. I did lots of research on the elements, on tribal tattooing, on Greek temples and worship, Biblical festivals, etc.

SHC – How did you come up with the characters?

IS – The two main characters for this book came to me first and clearest. I knew what they looked like and what their passions were. Their names came shortly after. The other supporting characters molded themselves according to the Element they represented. Now, I can’t imagine them being any other way. When you read it, you’ll see what I mean. They are very much the embodiment of water, air, earth, fire, life and death. And you’ll see that in their strengths and their flaws, in their hobbies and their sense of humor. They’re all very specific.

SHC – What was your favorite part to write?

IS – I loved writing the character relationships. Although there is a main hero and heroine, the supporting characters often stole the show. It’s their ability to live and breathe so realistically that I fell made the entire world believable.

There are all kinds of relationships in this book. Parent/child, mentor/student, youth/authority, best friends (male/male, female/female, and female/male), and the romantic relationships which blossom slowly but are felt strongly.

Although it’s a young adult book, I definitely think it has adult appeal. The sexual tension is palpable with the main characters and the forbidden aspect of it makes it that much more intense. That was also lots of fun to write.

SHC – Tell us about your other books. 

IS – Genre wise, I’m all over the place. I have a very restless muse. Ha ha.

For starters, there’s Cinematic Royalty and Dark Hollywood Nights. My editor described them best when she said they were “period, film noir-style books.” The first is a poignant love story. The second’s heroine, Alexis Grant, is reminiscent of Katharine Hepburn’s spunky, humorous characters from the 50s.

Of course, as you can probably imagine, I did tons of research for these two stories. You’ll see that in the details. I loved every minute of it though. I found it all so charming. The very distinct look of it all so captured in time- the bright red lips, the full bodied curls, the women with their sultry curves and the men as dapper as ever with their tailored suits. And really, I have a soft spot for fedoras.   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then there’s Surfacing. It’s what they call speculative fiction, along the contemporary science fiction vein. It’s a very complex love story, with a very flawed heroine. It answers the question: what happens when the ghosts of your past become your tangible present? Are you willing to give it all up for a chance at real love?

Her story came about as a way to remind myself that not all choices are good ones and that those difficult decisions are the ones that mold you into the person you become. It was very therapeutic and it allowed me to put many of my darkest emotions to rest. It’s definitely not light reading, so tread carefully. There might be a few tears involved. 

SHC – Thanks so much Isabelle for being here, but before you leave I have one last question.  It’s Halloween, and costumes are forefront on people’s minds.  Are you going to wear a costume?  What are the popular costume of choice in your family?

IS – Although my family and I don’t really do the whole Halloween thing, I have been DYING to put together a masquerade ball. Weird, I know, but I have a very odd fascination with masquerades (ever since I saw David Bowie as the Goblin King in Labyrinth) and every time I see one depicted in movies or television shows I get this insane urge to host one myself.

I already know what my costume would look like and I would absolutely dress Peanut up as the Phantom. Ha ha. Just because I can. Maybe someday I can make this a reality. A fantasy/paranormal author masquerade event. I think it’d be fun.

SHC – Thanks.  That was fun.  For those of you interested in learning more about the romance of Isabelle Santiago, please, visit: 

Website: http://twistedfairytale.net/

Blog: http://twistedfairytale.net/blog/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/iz_santiago

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Isabelle-Santiago/118058688550

MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/isabellesantiago

Now for the contest, it’s simple.  The prize will be a Henna Body Art Kit and a free copy of Isabelle’s Zerah’s Chosen ebook.  This contest is available only to commenters from the US and Canada except Hawaii and where prohibited by law. To be eligible, just comment on this interview and one lucky winner will be randomly drawn by Isabelle.  You’ll receive notification from her that you’ve won.  The contest will end on Sunday, Oct.4, 2009 at 9 PM Eastern Time.  Thanks so much and good luck, everyone!