Name Conny Conway
Age almost 54, in other words not only over the hill but rolling it down while picking up speed
Where are you from. Originally I’m born and raised a German, but in 2010 I swore on the red white and blue. Now I’m living in a suburb from Indianapolis with my beloved hubby of 26 wonderful years.
A little about your self `ie your education Family life etc As I said earlier I’m happily married, Jeff and me are empty nesters, loving it too, even if my heart will always beat for my sons, both military, both married, both stationed far away with their families.
Instead of children, we spoil our furrier and feathered kids now.
In Germany the school system is totally different than here; we have only must take classes unless it comes to art. I never spoke the Queen’s English therefore my grade was only a 2, the equivalence of a B.
Fiona: Tell us your latest news?
I just finished writing my second book, called Dark Labyrinth, which has nothing in common with my first book. DL is in the editing process, while I started to write the sequence to Never-Ending Dream. And personal news, I’ll be a real Grandma soon
Fiona: When and why did you begin writing?
Oh man, about 6 years ago I dreamed of writing, I dreamed the story of the book and it itched in my fingers, so I wrote it, send it to a publisher and they liked it, so it was radio ally published. Sadly I had no clue about marketing, I know a little now, so to this day I still wait for blurbs from New York Times , Washington post, oprah, etc. laughing all the while
Fiona: When did you first consider yourself a writer?
When the publisher send the contract. I was so moved, I cried while signing
Fiona: What inspired you to write your first book?
Mh, every person has unbeknown or actually known a spirit guide, which I describe in my book also. Mine is a monk and he pinched my conscious, urging me on until I wrote the end.
Fiona: Do you have a specific writing style?
I believe so. I’m certain there is a God, but I’m also certain there is much more between heaven and Earth, I love the mystery of it all, it fascinates me.
Fiona: How did you come up with the title?
I actually didn’t, the book was supposed to be called Hidden Force, my publisher changed it.
Fiona: Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
Indeed. I would love to see that the reader would be musing, could there be such things as spirits, soul mates, twin flames, spirit guides and other planes, unexplainable connections between strangers.
Fiona: How much of the book is realistic?
About 75%, trust me I did the research
Fiona: Are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?
You know, indirectly all authors connect their characters with people around them, maybe a crush from High School or the good looking dude next door, the mysterious old man in the park and so on, but yes, one actor did immensely inspire my hero and if you read the book you’ll be able to name him.
Fiona: What books have most influenced your life most?
Anything fantasy, super natural, horror and romance, yet there is one book I read when I was about seventeen, it was in German and sadly I can’t find it in English.
Fiona: If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
That is difficult to answer. I met a lot of authors on Facebook in the last year and even though I love their work, again supernatural and/ or Scottish romance, but their style is totally different than mine. Sadly no hunky Highlander nor a sex and bloodthirsty vampire runs around in my books, werewolves don’t like to hang out in my stories either, which is weird, because I like all those creatures and suffer with them when bad Gods, Demons or Humans make their existence a living hell
Fiona: What book are you reading now?
Most of the time I read one book and listen to another while working in my house or run errands. My auditory sense is getting spoiled by Coreene Callahan’s Knight avenged at the moment. But when I relax with my partner in crime, the almighty iPad, I get lost in Heather Killough-Walden‘s The Seelie King
Fiona: Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?
Indeed, Victoria Zak honored me to be one of her beta readers. Her Highland Burn will be released any day now, one of the best Scottish, historic, fantasy romances
Fiona: What are your current projects?
The sequel of my first book gives me headaches at times, it’s called Reminiscence, again the actor and his sidekick Christopher are challenged by paranormal specters, guides and love, not to forget witch hunters
Fiona: Name one entity that you feel supported you outside of family members.
Sharon Obelenus Holland. She made wonderful teasers
Fiona: Do you see writing as a career?
Truthfully, I dunno. I love to write, spin my fantasies into words, sentences,pages and chapters, but I doubt and don’t want to become a second to Miss Killough, Sherrilyn Kenyon , Suzan Tisdale and so on. I write because I love it and not because there is a deadline, naturally I would never be able to afford a living on it but as long as I kept one or two readers spell bound, I’m happy
Fiona: If you had to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?
Yes, I would not sign the traditional publisher. I had no control over price or sales, and il was left alone with the immense monster called the Market
Fiona: Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?
Yeah, my guide urged me, but the interest was always there, especially in fantasy.
Fiona: Can you share a little of your current work with us?if you don’t mind typos, certainly.
The sea threw itself in gentle waves against the cliffs of Moher. From way above the small figure gazed into the dark blue ocean, hard to say from below if it was a man or a woman, though long hair of the color of the evening sun wafted around the head. The thick woolen jacket hid the body, washed out blue jeans peaked from underneath the thick green knitted cables. The shoes were not visible from the distance. The small figure crouched down and sat on the edge of the steep clips. Unseen to the eyes of the miniature person a spy kept close surveillance of the human up high. The intent stare belonged to Lann, a semi God of fire. He bore wings, sword and a crossbow made from this element. His body was slender, packed by muscle, his hair was light auburn and gleamed like an oversized halo over his tanned face, black as a raven were the irises of his eyes, his nose straight and proud towering over his stubble chin, it was broken by a deep cleft. All in all Lann was the man to die for. His loin cloth revealed more than it hid. His wings the folded extinguished on his back, to be prepared to take off into the air at any time, Lann choose not to wear any toga or a kilt. Not that he had tried to cover his bareness; all he had accomplished was setting himself on fire with his wings. Therefore he decided on just the loincloths.
In the instance he decided to turn his gaze back to the North Sea he caught how the wind blew the small figure up on the cliff down. A female scream off horror pierced his supersonic hearing. Instinctively he opened his wings, which ignited as soon as they were spread into feathers of flames. He jumped into the air powerfully and flew across the bay to the edge of the water, at the very last moment he caught the woman. Terror had knocked her out. Limp she draped over both his underarms, eyes shut, long lashes flowing over her skin, the small nose red from the cold wind, the sensuous mouth reigned by a pouty bottom lip.
Lann stared at the lifeless body in his arms questioningly. What should she do with her now? He couldn’t leave her on the rocks of the shore; she might get swept away by the waves or become hypothermic. Though he also couldn’t take her to his home, this was way too dangerous. His dwelling was deep down in the earth unknown by humankind, reigned by Balor, the Demon King, the God of death and the ruler of the Fomori, demons which live in the darkness, in the depths of the oceans and lakes, dark woods and shadows to prey on humans, taking the shape of sea creatures and monsters. Balor had strict rules, laws which are punishable if broken by death, torture, captivity and worse. One of those directives stated no human was ever allowed in the caves, close to the center of the earth, no exception was ever made and therefore the demons could live in peace, still preying on humans, but covered by a the government of the people. No regime would openly admit that supernatural beings existed. The leaders of the world lied this well that they believed their own lies. No spooks, monsters, bogeyman, vampires, fairies and fae folks, no were people nor any other unexplained phenomena existed but humans,
This was just to the liking of the demons, deities and paranormal beings. His thoughts went back to the small woman in his arms. He still hadn’t made a decision what to do with her. While he mauled the problem over and over his ogled the fragile figure. For a human she was actually beautiful her red hair fell in crinkles and curls around her face, making her look like an angel which had fallen from the sky directly into his embrace. There was no way how he would leave her behind, unprotected to the cold and danger. His fiery wings were still ablaze and fully open, so he just flew up into the fall sky, foggy, wet and cold. Some part of him was still hesitant to take her to his cave, though there was no other choice. He pondered what he would answer her, when questioned, where she was, how she was and why she hadn’t died, humbling down to the rocky shore.
Lann decided he would let time work for him. More important was how he could hide the female human without being discovered. Most of the demons which dwelled in his realm had sensitive noses and were able to discover her human scent easily, in fact they didn’t need to even concentrate to her smell, for the creatures she was dinner and her aroma would attract them.
He had almost crossed the distance then it occurred to him he could rub her off with wolfs bane, disguising the stench of humans. He took a bypass through the woods before he soared to Beinn Mor, a volcanic remnant, the entrance to his terrain. They descended deep into the ground. Once he was grounded he folded his blazing wings, which distinguished immediately. Lann took care to stick to the shadows, he had swung the woman over his shoulder after landing in the small opening. His path led him through a cavernous labyrinth, lit by wondrous quartz and rocks only to end in a huge dome. The ceiling of it was filled with clouds; in the background was a red sky. Her purple flame shone down on the landscape, just like the sun on earth. The air was humid and hot, tropical hot and the breeze waved tiny Palms, which grew on a shore where waves slept lazily against white sand. The ocean itself had the color of blood. Again the tanned half god stuck to the gloom, hoping that the human scent was covered by the herb. He came to a clearing then another cave entrance loomed behind redwoods. Without hesitation he followed the hall again he zigzagged through a labyrinth only to stop at a slab of stone. Gently he stroked the stone and it slipped aside allowing a peek into his home. It was not luxurious but it served his purpose.
As he entered torches lit up magically in their scones, bathing the room beyond in the warm light. A fire lit in the chimney and warmed the cold cavern. Palm leaves were strewn on the floor, serving as a natural carpet. A red bed made from Natural sandstone dominated the room. White marble columns supported the ceiling made from quartz. It’s shone like stars in the light of the fire.
Lann had not hung any declaration nor was knickknack present. The cavern serves a sole purpose for rest. He didn’t want it to be tied down, he had no home, having a home was the dark memory way back in his past.
He carried the woman to the red bed, bear he laid her down gently. He said the site her small body and stared at her for the first time since he had rescued her and the sensation he had never felt before swept through him. Tenderly he stroked the strain of her hair aside, admiring her long, dark lashes which rested on her cheeks like butterfly wings. Altogether the small human looked very fragile. He had no idea where, for how long he was staring at the small person in his oversized bed though with a sigh he stood up straight and went to the small adjoining bathroom, there he grabbed a terra-cotta washcloth, open to faucets, both warm and cold until it had the right temperature and dampened the cloths turning back to his bed. He folded the damp cloth and laid it on the woman’s forehead. Again he caught himself being fascinated by the human’s beauty. He almost missed the fluttering of her eyelashes as her eyes opened to reveal deep green eyes. Disorientated her gaze fell on the demigod. Shock and terror was written all over her beautiful face.
“Where am I? “She inquired. “ am I dead?”
He shook his head. He couldn’t bring himself to speak for once it was long ago that she spoke last and second of admiration.
The young woman’s eyes shifted and she took in the whole room, realizing it was a natural cavern. Again panic swept over her face.
“Where am I?” her voice was steadier now and had pitched up in volume.
Lann hushed her, this only increased her fright” Why don’t you answer me? I need to know where I am and who you are, how we got here, please.” She begged.
He cleared his throat.
“You’re in my realm. You are not dead. My name is Lann.” Was his hoarse reply. He looked surprised; he had not thought to remember the human tongue.
“Your realm?” she repeated. His answer had only confused her more.” What do you mean by your realm? I am dead after all or in limbo?”
“No, you re not dead. You are very much alive. I caught you when you were tumbling down the cliffs.” He explained.
“But your realm, what does that mean?”
“It means you are subterranean, in a network of caves.” He retorted dryly. “And I would beg you to speak uhm, what do you call it again?” He pondered.” Not so loud.” His gaze brightened as he remembered more of the language humans spoke.
This scared her even more.” Why not? Do you have something to hide? Are you afraid others would hear me? Are you dangerous? Maybe a psychopath?” Horror streaked her voice.
Though she wasn’t too off partially.
Again Lann had to clear his throat,” I don’t want them to hear you,” his head dipped in the direction of the stone slab.” I have nothing to hide but you. Yes, I am afraid they will hear you.” again his thought deepened as to recall her questions, which had baffled him in fractions. “I can be dangerous, but not to you. And I don’t know what a psychopath is, but I doubt it. I don’t like the word. its origin is from Greek psycho meaning soul and Pathos meaning suffering, so like someone has a lack of soul, is that right?” He asked curiously and logically.
Her eyes widened even more with his information. Then she glanced around the cave, peering for an exit. She jumped out of the bed, crossing the distance in fifteen paces. Lann followed her slowly, wondering what would come next. She hammered with her small fists against the stone and screamed from the top of her lungs for help. This he had not anticipated and in a split second he opened his wings flew in front of the young female and barred her hands from the stone slab.
“Shush,” he hushed her again.” Be quiet.”
This enticed her to scream even louder while tears were running down her cheeks. Fear had sped up her heart beat, adrenaline gave her a strength she had not believed was in her and she kneed the winged man in his groin. He doubled over and went down to the floor, pulling her with him. His left hand cupped his loin and his right held her by her left wrist. She screamed and hollered in horror. All Lann could do was grunt, interrupted again with a “shush,” here and there, trying to make her stop he finally slapped his hand over her mouth and her scream muffled considerable. The pain in his groin seized a bit to be replaced by her bite in his calloused hand. She had bitten so hard she had drawn blood from the fleshy palm. He jerked his hand away, and then straddled her. His eyes had a malicious, furious gleam. Anger tinged in his golden eyes into bright red orbs. She screamed again and again, ignoring his hushing and begging for silence, she concluded he didn’t like loud noises and doubled her effort.
Banging at the stone door interrupted Lann’s effort to calm her down.
“Help! I’m in here with this maniac, this monster….”
Caught! Lann thought. Damned.
The stone slid aside, a shadow entered the room.
“ Cad é an ifreann atá ar siúl i anseo?” echoed through the cave, followed by “Boladh mé daonna?”
The booming voice was so loud, that little stones drizzled from the cavern ceiling.
“ Damned.” Lann growled, still sitting on the human female.
Lann stood up, raising the woman with him by her wrists.
“Not much, Bodach.” He said lamely, he knew he would never find an excuse why a human was in his dorm.
The Bodach kept silence for a few split seconds then boomed : “ so, why is this wee human here I like to ken. Having a wee snack by yourself, Lann?”
But as it spoke it remembered that Lann did not include human flesh in his diet.” Speak, Lann, you ken no mortals are allowed.” The eyes in the shadow grew bigger, hot blue charcoals in an invisible face.
Lann had no answer, he speechlessly shrugged his shoulders.
Fiona: Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
In the above book yes, I have creatures which prefer in rhymes and riddles, or in the third person.
Fiona: Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?
Diana Gabaldon, the style she uses, the back and forth in times,places, the research the woman must have done, immense indeed.
Fiona: Do you have to travel much concerning your book(s)?
Fiona: Who designed the covers?
I did together with my publisher, now for DL I did it on my own.
Fiona: What was the hardest part of writing your book?
Writing was not hard at all, I enjoyed it.
Fiona: Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?
Yeah some gram antics, lol. Honestly, I have a symbiotic love affair with THEOSAURUS, I hate repeating words. Do you have any idea how much most authors, including this one here, write SAID?
Fiona: Do you have any advice for other writers?
Keep it flowing, describe faces, figures, characters, don’t go into deep detail of surroundings unless the sword on the rackety table will be used and the reader can picture the hero reaching for it. Have conversations, but don’t drag them to death and don’t repeat the convo over and over again. Imagine to dream your book, in slumberland my IQ drops immensely at last. I want to read books which are entertaining but also educational for example in history, but again be careful not to bore the readers with why Queen X had an acquaintance with alchemist Y because the friend W…… See where I’m going, boring….
Fiona: Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?
Fiona: Do you remember the first book you read?
Grimm’s fairy tales , lol, Rapunzel was my favorite
Fiona: Other than writing do you have any hobbies?
Indeed. I like to knit and crochet while listening to a good book.
Fiona: What TV shows/films do you enjoy watching?
At the moment is off season for game of thrones, which by the way annoyed the living bejesus out of me, George R.R. Martin went quiet away from his original books for the script. Besides that I’m giving a shot at Penny Dreadful.
Fiona: Favorite foods / Colors/ Music foods,
ya……hm…Roulladen is one of my favorites, the color blue soothes me and music, I love, love, love Popera, I was blessed with two Il Divo concerts and one from the maestro Andrea bocelli. Further when I write I’ll be listening to Secret Garden
Fiona: If you were not a writer what else would you like to have done?
Singing, but people would pay me to shut up.
Fiona: Do you have a blog/website? If so what is it?i used to the only sites left are the Facebook site.
And the author site on amazon
I want to thank you that you took the time to interview me, Fiona.