Author Interview - Cheryl Pierson

Joining us today is Cheryl Pierson. Here is Cheryl’s Bio: Cheryl was born in Duncan, Oklahoma, and grew up in Seminole, Oklahoma. She graduated from the University of Oklahoma, and holds a B.A. in English. She has taught numerous writing classes and workshops over the past years and also works on an individual basis with many of her students, and other authors, locally and nationwide.

Cheryl’s most recent publications include her debut novel, released through The Wild Rose Press in May of 2009, “Fire Eyes,” and her second novel, “Time Plains Drifter.” She has also sold numerous short stories, as a contributor for the Adams Media anthologies “The Rocking Chair Reader: Family Gatherings”, as well as the earlier “The Rocking Chair Reader: Memories from the Attic.” Her short stories also appear in the 2006-09 editions of the Adams Media Christmas anthologies, as well as various other publications, including “Chicken Soup for the Empty Nester’s Soul.” Her holiday short story, “A Night For Miracles,” was released in December, 2009, through The Wild Rose Press.

Look for her third novel, “Sweet Danger,” available Oct. 1, 2010 through The Wild Rose Press, and her short story, “To Make the Magic Last,” through Victory Tales Press, “A Summer Collection” anthology, May 2010. “Scarlet Ribbons,” a Christmas short story, will be released in September, 2010, through Victory Tales Press.

Although Cheryl has written and sold articles to local newspapers as well as these short stories, her first love remains romance novel writing. With the release of TIME PLAINS DRIFTER, her debut novel in the speculative romance genre of paranormal/time travel, she garnered the Honorable Mention Award in the “Best New Paranormal Author” category in the prestigious PEARL contest, presented 3/21/10. Time Plains Drifter also received a 4.5 review from Romantic Times Magazine. She’s now at work on another novel, TIME PLAINS GUARDIAN, in the speculative romance genre of western historical paranormal/time travel and hopes to complete it before the end of the year. She has just completed a western historical novel, GABRIEL’S LAW, and is in the throes of revision.

Cheryl lives with her husband in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, where she has been for the past 25 years. She has two grown children, ages 20 and 23.

[Anne] Yeah Sooners!!!  Sorry, I had to throw that in.  When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

[Cheryl]When I was just a child—maybe 4 or 5, I would write in books. My mom couldn’t understand why I kept doing that, and I guess maybe I couldn’t explain to her. I wanted to be the one to write the story we were reading! LOL

[Anne] LOL.  That's cool.  Tell us about your latest book.

[Cheryl] Sweet Danger Blurb: When undercover cop Jesse Nightwalker enters Silverman's Deli, he doesn't expect to find himself at the mercy of Tabor Hardin, a sadistic murderer he helped put in prison five years earlier. Now, Hardin's escaped, and he's out for more blood--Jesse's. Lindy Oliver has had her eye on her handsome neighbor for several months. Fate provides the opportunity for them to finally meet when they both choose the same deli for breakfast. Becoming a hostage was not in Lindy 's plans when she sat down to share a pastry with Jesse, but neither was the hot kiss he gave her when bullets began to fly. That kiss seals both their fates, binding them to one another with the certainty of a vow. But Jesse's got some hard-hitting secrets. With both their lives at stake, Lindy has a plan that just might save them--if Hardin takes the bait. Will they find unending love in the midst of Sweet Danger?

[Anne] What inspired you to write this story?

[Cheryl] I knew I needed to ‘branch out’ into contemporary. I normally write historical western stories, but I had some contemporary stories to tell, too! I had written one before this one that I’m still subbing. Sweet Danger was the first contemporary I’ve sold, though I have sold 2 western historicals and several short stories.

[Anne] How did you go about researching your book?

[Cheryl] I really didn’t have to do a whole lot of research since it is a contemporary. I set it in Oklahoma City because I was picturing the buildings there. I’m a native Oklahoman, and nearly every story I write takes place in contemporary Oklahoma or, in the historicals, Indian Territory, before Oklahoma became a state.

[Anne] Do you have anything new in the works?

[Cheryl] I’m always working on something. My WIP is another contemporary involving an undercover DEA agent whose cover is blown. He’s left for dead in the woods near a young woman’s house. Their relationship is threatened by the drug kingpin who ordered him murdered—and now must see her dead as well.

On the historical front, my latest ms. is being considered by one of the larger houses, and I am keeping my fingers crossed for good news from that direction!

[Anne] What is your writing process like? Are you a plotter or a pantser?

[Cheryl] Oh, definitely a pantser!!! I wouldn’t know what to do if I actually had a PLOT to work off of from beginning to end! LOL It’s more fun this way.

[Anne] I totally agree with you there.  If you could be anyone of your characters, which one would you chose to be and why?

[Cheryl] Hmmm, probably I would be Jenni Dalton from Time Plains Drifter. She is thrown back in time and finds love when she least expects it. My guys…I wouldn’t want to be ANY of them—they all get wounded and have so much angst to deal with! LOL

[Anne] What type of books do you like to read when you’re not writing?

[Cheryl] I read pretty much everything—not just romance. I love alternate history—like Eric Flint’s series. Also love westerns, like Louis L’Amour and Jack Schaefer, Peter Brandvold and Forrest Carter. Lots of great writers out there, and of course, romance novels are at the top of my list always!

[Anne] Name three things you can’t live without (excluding spouses and family because that’s a given).

[Cheryl] Books, pen and paper. (And can I also say, tomatoes? Cause I could eat my weight in those.)

[Anne] Now that’s a new one…LOL…Tomatoes, really? Humm. All right you can have your tomatoes. Where can we find you on the web?

[Cheryl] You can visit my website at http://www.cherylpierson.com

You can e-mail me at fabkat_edit@yahoo.com (I love to hear from readers and other authors!)

You can visit my blogs at: http://www.cherylpiersonbooks.blogspot.com and also at http://www.westwindsromance.blogspot.com

[Anne] Where can we purchase your books?

[Cheryl] You can purchase FIRE EYES and my two short stories with THE WILD ROSE PRESS by clicking on the titles. My short stories are A NIGHT FOR MIRACLES and UNTIL THE LAST STAR BURNS OUT (this one is a FREE READ!)

TIME PLAINS DRIFTER is currently unavailable as I am searching for a new publisher for that book and working on the sequel to it. I do have a few copies for sale if anyone wants to order from me. My e-mail addy is listed above where you can contact me.

SWEET DANGER will be available from THE WILD ROSE PRESS in October, 2010.

I currently have a short story, TO MAKE THE MAGIC LAST, available in a just-released anthology with VICTORY TALES PRESS. The anthology is called “A SUMMER COLLECTION” and (of course) the stories all have a summer based theme. I will be included in a Christmas anthology with VTP that will be released sometime in the fall as well.

I’ve also written several other short stories for Adams Media’s Rocking Chair Reader series and the Chicken Soup for the Soul books. Memories from the Attic: PENNY MEMORIES.  Family Gatherings: THE SUGAR CUBE CURE.   Classic Christmas: True Stories of Holiday Cheer and Good Will: SILVER MAGIC.

[Anne] Is there anything else you’d like to add?

[Cheryl] Thank you so much for having me here! I appreciate this chance to talk about my books and tell you a bit more about me. I will leave you with an excerpt from my EPIC Award Finalist novel, FIRE EYES.

THE SET UP: Marshal Kaed Turner has been deposited on widow Jessica Monroe's front porch by a band of Choctaw Indians with orders from the chieftain: "Do not let him die." But can she save him? He's been severely beaten by a band of renegades that run the borderlands between Arkansas and Indian Territory. The last man they brought to her doorstep died. What will become of Marshal Turner? Can she save him?

FROM FIRE EYES:

Taking up the scissors again, she cut away his clothing, starting with the sleeve she’d already slit. He lay still as she pulled away the bloody chambray. When she lifted the front placket of material from his broad chest, he gave a low, agonized curse. His breath hissed inward, and he shifted.

“What? Did I—oh, my God.” Jessica squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to believe what she had seen.

The badge. U.S. Marshal. Turner’s lawman’s star wasn’t pinned to his shirt any longer. The pin was jammed down through the material into his bronze skin, a bright crimson ring around the outline of the star itself. By that one act of cruelty, Jessica did not need to wonder any longer whose handiwork this sadistic beating was. She knew, as surely as if the marshal had spoken it.

Now she wished she’d asked Standing Bear if his warriors had killed any of the men who had been responsible for this. She hoped they had surprised the white men, and murdered them all. She hoped they’d taken scalps. She hoped—

“Just pull.” Her patient moistened his lips. “Straight up. That’s how it went in.”

She wanted to weep at the steel in his voice, wanted to comfort him, to tell him she’d make it quick. But, of course, quick would never be fast enough to be painless. And how could she offer comfort when she didn’t even know what to call him, other than Turner?

“You waitin’ on a…invitation?” A faint smile touched his battered mouth. “I’m fresh out.”

Jessica reached for the tin star. Her fingers closed around the uneven edges of it. No. She couldn’t wait any longer. “What’s your name?” Her voice came out jagged, like the metal she touched.

His bruised eyes slitted as he studied her a moment. “Turner. Kaedon Turner.”

Jessica sighed. “Well, Kaedon Turner, you’ve probably been a lot better places in your life than this. Take a deep breath and try not to move.”

He gave a wry chuckle, letting his eyes drift completely closed. “Do it fast. I’ll be okay.”

She nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Ready?”

“Go ahead.”

Even knowing what was coming, his voice sounded smoother than hers, she thought. She wrapped her hand tightly around the metal and pulled up fast, as he’d asked.

As the metal slid through his flesh, Kaed’s left hand moved convulsively, his fingers gripping the quilt. He was unable to hold back the soft hint of an agonized groan as he turned away from her. He swore as the thick steel pin cleared his skin, freeing the chambray shirt and cotton undershirt beneath it, blood spraying as his teeth closed solidly over his bottom lip.

Jessica lifted the material away, biting back her own curse as she surveyed the damage they’d done to him. His chest was a mass of purple bruises, uneven gashes, and burns. Her stomach turned over. She was not squeamish. But this—

It was just like what they’d done to Billy, before they’d killed him. Billy, the last man the Choctaws had dumped on her porch. Billy Monroe, the man she’d come to loathe during their one brief year of marriage.

She took a washrag from the nightstand and wet it in the nearby basin. Wordlessly, she placed her cool palm against Kaedon Turner’s stubbled, bruised cheek, turning his head toward her so she could clean his face and neck.

She knew instinctively he was the kind of man who would never stand for this if it wasn’t necessary. The kind of man who was unaccustomed to a woman’s comforting caress. The kind of man who would never complain, no matter how badly wounded he was.

“Fallon.” His voice was rough.

Jessica stopped her movements and watched him. “What about him?”

His brows drew together, as if he were trying to formulate what he wanted to say. “Is he…dead?”

What should she tell him?

The truth.

“I—don’t know.”

“Damn it.”

“You were losing a lot of blood out there,” Jessica said, determined to turn his thoughts from Fallon to the present. She ran the wet cloth lightly across the long split in his right cheek.

His breathing was controlled, even. “I took a bullet.” He said it quietly, almost conversationally.

Jessica stopped moving. “Where?”