Today I’m welcoming fellow Soulmate Publishing and Canadian author and
artist Christine Hart. She’s a young adult writer launching a new adult trilogy
this May, July, and October. Be sure to read to the end to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway.
Tell us a bit about In Irina’s Cards and The Variant Conspiracy trilogy.
I’d definitely classify this NA trilogy as
a cross-genre story. They’re a racy blend of paranormal and sci-fi with a
strong romantic sub-plot. The story follows a group of renegade mutants tracking
an evil corporate conspiracy from the West Coast of North America into the
Mojave Desert and hopping to London, Greece, Egypt, and Kenya. B
How did you get started as a writer?
I’ve been a writer most of my adult life,
but I didn’t set out to be. I went to university with law school in mind, but
my first year English teacher encouraged me to be a writer. I didn’t embrace
the change right away, but I took a few writing courses. I was 18 when I
published my first story in the student newspaper. When I saw my byline in
print, I was hooked!
I changed gears into a BA degree with an
English major and Professional Writing minor, the latter of which was intended
to prepare students for working at newspapers and magazines, as well as
corporate communications departments and public relations firms. I figured out
pretty quickly that journalism wasn’t my thing. I focused on communications
instead. I didn’t switch to fiction until my mid-twenties, experimenting with
children’s picture books and short stories before I hit my stride writing young
adult. When I realized some of the themes and plots I wanted to explore were
more mature than most young adult publishers would tackle, I started
considering the new adult market. In Canada, new adult is still being
incorporated into the publishing landscape, so the opportunities up here are
slim. Fortunately I found an amazing home for The Variant Conspiracy at
NY-based Soul Mate Publishing.
Is there anything you’d like your readers
to know about you?
First of all I’d like my readers to know
how grateful I am that they found me and gave me a chance. With a dizzying
array of choices in contemporary fiction, I value every single reader who
chooses to spend time with my stories and characters.
Second, I’d like everyone to know that my
story ideas come from the heart. I want to entertain and inspire, but I also
want my readers to think deeply about human nature, modern society, and the
future of our world. It sounds heavy for NA fiction. Hopefully my work is fun
at the same time!
What do you think makes a good story?
Above all, I think a story needs a
rollercoaster plot. From there, relatable and likeable characters are critical.
When I shape my story ideas – both novels and shorts – I think about the
stories and characters from my favourite authors that really stuck with me over
the years. Who are those favourite authors? To name just a few, I’ll start with
contemporary authors like Neil Gaiman, Charlaine Harris, Suzanne Collins, J.K.
Rowling, and Stephen King. Going back a bit farther, I love John Wyndham, Ray
Bradbury, J.R.R. Tolkien, and H.P. Lovecraft. Although my personal list of
amazing writers is miles longer, those are the really recognizable names that
top my picks for master story-crafters.
What do you get up to when you’re not
writing fiction?
I used to work in the corporate world,
specifically marketing and communications. I did mostly business writing – from
copywriting, blogging, and press releases to huge policy documents, instruction
manuals, and contracts. These days I’m a mom to two toddlers, ages 4 and 1 at
the moment.
I also have a bizarre habit of breaking
stuff and making stuff for my Etsy shop Sleepless Storyteller. I take apart
watches, computers, electronics, and vintage jewellery to create new wearable
art. It sounds odd and it is, but turning trash into treasure is too much fun
to stop at my own jewellery box. I had to start selling online to make room for
new creations.
In Irina’s Cards is the story of 19-year-old Irina Proffer who discovers a world of fringe genetic science and supernatural mystery. Following visions inspired by a strange deck of tarot cards, Irina learns of an amazing variation in her genetic code. She has the ability to see the past, present and future, in her life and the lives around her.
Irina sets out from her northern home for BC's coastal capital to get answers. She is drawn in by a powerful first love and a compelling, yet dangerous mystery. Working at Innoviro Industries and meeting other 'variants' brings Irina closer and closer to the dark truth about her origins. She finds herself at the heart of two overlapping love triangles as she scrambles to escape her employer's grip. At the close of the novel, Irina realizes she has merely scratched the surface of a frightening conspiracy on a global scale.
Excerpt
We
reached the end of the Harbour and the coastline opened up around the corner. I
saw a sign for ferries to the US in front of a giant concrete breakwater and a
pub decorated with a helm wheel and a mural with starfish and orcas. The hazy
soft blues of the ocean and sky were broken by the jagged edges of American
snow-capped mountains on the horizon. The seaside sidewalk had a mix of young
families, dog-walkers, and spry seniors in trendy windbreakers.
“You
know what they say about the people here in Victoria, right?” said Jonah, as he
watched me watch everyone else.
“No,
I can’t say that I do. More money than they know what to do with?”
“True,
but not as bad as Vancouver. Ever heard of the saying ‘newlyweds and nearly
deads’ or as my mom says, ‘God’s waiting room.’”
“Kind
of a dark way to look at things, isn’t it?”
“My
mom’s a dark lady, but hilarious. I hope you don’t mind, but I also invited
Cole and his sister. You’ll love this little restaurant. It’s got awesome food
and live music, but not too hipster-ish,” said Jonah.
Something
dropped in my chest. If Cole brought his sister, we were just a group of
friends going for dinner. I felt silly for having thought that we were going on
a date. We turned another corner and Jonah pulled the car over next to a brick
building with a 50’s style neon sign that read ‘Cymbals’ next to a caricature
of a drum set. I followed Jonah through the wrought iron gate and looked up at
the oak tree on the lawn next to the patio. Tiny fresh leaves and new buds covered
the gnarled old tree. It was also home to dozens and dozens of sneakers, canvas
shoes, skate shoes, oxfords – basically any kind of shoe with laces to tie
together.
The air felt warm enough to linger, so I walked over
to the tree and looked upward. I smiled. I reached up to one of the lower
branches and touched one of the shoes. The yard and the tree melted away. I saw
the face of a girl with faintly bluish skin and platinum hair. She turned and I
saw two leather-like wings flex and relax. Her shirt had been cut to make room
for her wings which stretched out past the frayed edges of the fabric. She was
standing in a sewer or catacomb.
Faces milled around the winged girl. It wasn’t quite
like a party, maybe more like a camp. An older lady standing next to the winged
girl reached down to the ground. She pinched the concrete and plucked
something, maybe a stone, off the surface. The stone wriggled. It was a
camouflaged beetle, exactly like the one I’d seen on my first day in the city.
She lifted the beetle to her mouth and I reeled back.
The yard outside Cymbals surrounded me again in a
blink. Jonah stared at me. I noticed my arm had stayed raised beneath the shoes
and withdrew it.
“Are you all right?”
I heard fear in his voice.
“Rubin mentioned that you were psychic, but I never
knew what it actually looked like. I mean, I’ve never witnessed anyone ‘see’
something if that makes sense.”
“Oh, I … what does
it look like? It’s still pretty new for me. I’ve always been alone when that
happens, but I hadn’t even wondered what somebody watching me gets to see.”
“You looked sort of, gone. And then your eyes rolled
back for a moment. I thought you were having a seizure.”
I looked around the yard and fortunately we were
alone. Still, I didn’t want to keep talking about this stuff where we could be
overheard. More importantly, what was Rubin doing sharing my personal
information while giving me his best poker face?
“Let’s go inside. I’m hungry.” I didn’t much feel like
sitting down to a social night anymore.
Cole waved from
a table on the other side of the building. Sitting next to him, a girl with
purple dreadlocks looked up from her purse and smiled.
The
restaurant was full and the combined conversations created a loud chatter. Dim
candlelight, a few glass chandeliers, and an antique-looking piano in the
corner set a romantic atmosphere that sparked another twinge of embarrassment.
On the other hand, the abstract and industrial mixed media wall décor had me
looking around for art and film students. Aside from a few biker bars, the
edgiest hangout I knew of in Prince George was an indie coffee shop – and it
had only been open for a few years when I left.
We made our way around and between tables. Everyone in
the restaurant looked like an artist or an intellectual. I felt like an ugly
duckling in my plain, boring clothes, but I was glad for the first time since
starting my new job that not all of the blue dye had gone from my hair. Jonah
reached the table and pulled out a chair for me. We sat down and Cole scowled.
“Dude,
what’s up with the timeline fail? We’ve been here for like, half an hour,” said
Cole.
“Ignore
his attitude. I’m Faith,” the girl said as she extended her hand to me and
grinned happily. The flickering light glinted off a stud in her nose and a ring
in her eyebrow. She wore dark makeup on her eyes and mouth. She had the same coffee
brown eyes as Cole. I couldn’t tell if it was her features or the eyeliner and
lipstick, but she looked striking in a bold, exotic way. As we shook hands, her
gaze shifted over to Jonah.
We
looked at our menus in awkward silence, waiting for a server, sipping our
water. I sighed and put down my menu. I could feel Cole’s eyes on me as I
watched Faith stare at Jonah, the only person still looking at his menu. I gave
in and glanced back at Cole briefly with a small smile. This was all heading in
the wrong direction. The time for tact expired along with my patience.
“So
I take it we’re all mutants here,” I said casually.
Jonah
sprayed water onto his menu and coughed. Cole looked at me urgently. Faith’s mouth
made a small ‘O’ under her confused frown.
“Seriously,
I came here, to Victoria, because I started having visions of this place and I
wanted answers. All I’ve gotten is cryptic nonsense. Other than meeting you
people, I’ve learned next to nothing. Rubin is all vague double-talk. It’s
getting old. I want to know what you all know.”
Jonah
looked at me and took a breath as if to say something. He decided against it
and looked around our corner of the restaurant. Nobody paid any attention to
us. He placed his hand over the droplets of water on his laminated menu. The
water coalesced into puddles under his palm. As he concentrated on the small
pool, it lifted off the menu and spread into a donut shape. The circle broke
and the stream became a spiral, getting thinner and thinner until it evaporated
into steam, absorbed into Jonah’s hand.
Faith’s
frown turned into a smile as she looked at Jonah. She picked up one of the
unlit candles on our table and pinched the wick between her thumb and
forefinger. As she released it a flame sprang to life.
“Well,
I’m not breaking this table, that’s for damn sure,” said Cole.
“That’s
okay. I saw your street-fight with that bouncer when I first got to town,” I
said.
Cole rolled his eyes, but I
couldn’t worry about his temper. I wanted to keep talking about Innoviro and
Ivan. “So, now that we’re making progress, albeit moving into some surreal
comic book world, tell me what’s the deal with Innoviro. What the hell does this
company really do?” I felt my adrenaline rise.
“I’m not risking my job so you can get a head start on
whatever Ivan has in mind for you. You’re acting like there’s something bad
going on here. He helps people like us.” Cole looked over at Jonah. “For some
of us, being different is actually a
health risk.”
“Dude, leave it alone!” said Jonah.
Faith frowned again. “You’ve met Rubin. He’s like a
recruiter. He told you that much at least, didn’t he? He works with Ivan to
find people like us and help, if they need it.”
“And what if I don’t need help?” I said.
“You may help others. We’re not all different in the
same way. Some of us were born this way and some of us were … made,” said
Faith.
“Ivan will talk to you about all of this soon enough.
We’re really not allowed to and I think the reasons for that will start to be
obvious. It’s not the kind of research the government likes. You can’t put this
kind of stuff in a job posting and you definitely can’t chat about it at
parties.” Jonah looked around the room again.
“So they’re doing tests on people.” I felt the unease
in my gut churning faster. “On us.”
“It’s not like that. We are doing research and development work, but it varies. Sometimes
we’re looking at mutation in other animals or plants. We look at weather and
geography to understand how a person’s gifts are advantageous or dangerous,
depending on where and how they live. Imagine me living in a desert, for
example. And we’re not catastrophically testing on people. Sometimes we’ll take
a small tissue or fluid sample from a person, but nothing barbaric,” said
Jonah. “We’ve also got to make money. Innoviro takes research contracts from
public and private firms doing anything from environmental research to mining
and industrial development. Ivan keeps a low profile under the guise of
confidentiality for his legitimate clients.”
“Are you guys even qualified for this? Or are you all
older and more educated than you look?”
“Hey, we’re not screwing around here! Jonah and I were
recruited directly from our graduate programs. I was working on a master’s in
geology and Jonah had nearly finished his thesis in microbiology. Don’t you
think research like this is best conducted by someone who understands it first
hand? Could you imagine trying to convince a serious scientist to take this on,
in lieu of a real career? You’d have to divulge every secret Innoviro has just
to get them to believe the work can be done, let alone get a commitment.” The
table crunched under Cole’s grip.
“And how about you?” I nodded at Faith, “Are you some
kind of brain surgeon?”
“I’m an IT technician. I specialize in network
administration and hardware integration.”
“Wow. I feel like a complete dunce.” I had nothing
unique or meaningful to contribute to Innoviro. Nothing but a tissue
sample.
“Don’t be intimidated. Remember that you were
recruited for a reason. You probably won’t get to know everything the company
does. We don’t discuss the details of our work with anyone but our
supervisors,” said Faith.
“Lots of projects are shared on a need-to-know basis.
But it’s not bad,” said Jonah. “You’ll understand more when Ivan gives you a
full tour. Let it happen on his schedule.”
“I can go along for the ride here, but you’ve got to
see how this looks from my point of view, getting drawn to a strange city by
visions – which are an entirely new phenomenon to me. Have I mentioned yet that
I got jumped the other night?”
“What?” said Cole and Jonah in unison.
“And you know why I didn’t get a look at him?” I said.
The boys had quizzical looks on their faces, but Faith
looked anxious.
“Because there was nothing to look at,” I said. “Some
enormous thing picked me up off the
ground and threatened me.”
“You need to tell Rubin. Or Ivan, but not everyone in
this restaurant.” Faith scanned the room tensely.
“No kidding.” I lowered my voice. “But since I don’t
have a way to get a hold of Rubin, I have to keep my fingers crossed that he’s
keeping tabs on me.”
“I’m sure he is. It’s his job to keep us safe,” said
Jonah.
BIO:
Located on BC’s beautiful West Coast, I write from my suburban Burnaby home staring at North Vancouver’s iconic Coast Mountains. I love writing about places and spaces with rich history and visually fascinating elements as a backdrop for the surreal and spectacular.
In addition to my undergraduate degree in writing and literature, my background also includes corporate communications and design. I am a current member of the Federation of BC Writers and SF Canada.
When not writing, I have a habit of breaking stuff and making stuff – in that order – under the guise of my Etsy alter-ego Sleepless Storyteller. I share my eclectic home and lifestyle with my husband, baby daughter and preschool son.
Author links:
http://www.christine-hart.ca/
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