My writing style is best described as a mix of plotter or a pantster, with a hint of laidback and chill thrown in. As I write I tend to see the novel play out in my head and I’m transcribing what I see. However, I still find that I need a road map, I know there will be marks I have to hit and I typically have an ending in mind as I write. Does that always work…not really.
When it comes to my genre, I’m pretty much a SciFi, Urban Fantasy, Paranormal guy. I like those genres and so I tend to stick to them. These genres give me the most freedom as a writer, because I get to make up the rules and I get to manipulate things as the story dictates. I especially love writing Urban Fantasy, which is why I love The Calling, and by extension The Called so much. Playing with these characters in our modern society has been a blast and offered me a lot of freedom.
What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever done in the name of research?
For The Called I had to call up a hotel and ask about their rooms and their banquet facilities. They couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want to talk to the banquet manager, finally I told them I was writing this book and was doing research on their hotel so I could feature it as a location. This help me not sound to odd and they were very helpful. Normally, I would stick to on-line research, but for this I wasn’t finding what I needed so the call was a must. I think I may need to send them a copy of the book as a thank you.
Do your books spring to life from a character first or an idea?
Yes.
My stories come to me both from characters and from ideas. For example my short story A Dragon for Christmas came to me via the main character, Carmen. She was very adamant about me telling her story. For my Urban Fantasy stories and my Sci Fi Series, these came to me based on a ‘what if’ ideas I had. Especially for T.A.D. – The Angel of Death.
With The Called, this novel is a continuation of The Calling, in fact the last section of The Calling is part of the first chapter of The Called. There is no delay and we pick right up, which I love. So, even though the idea for this story was already formed there were new parts, including some character development that sprang to life from the characters, which kept me on my toes big time.
How did you choose the topic for this book?
Typically, I don’t really choose the stories, the stories choose me. There are times when there is something I want to share or say to the world, as in the voting anthology I was part of this year, A More Perfect Union, this was something I felt passionate about and I needed to be part of it, so this topic was given to me and I went with it. However, this is the exception and not the rule. Most of my stories come to me as characters talking my ears off or in a dream. I guess, they all stem from my subconscious mind, which makes me wonder what else is lurking in there.
What were your goals and intentions in this book, and how well do you feel you achieved them?
My goal for The Called, was to finish up Duncan/Chris’ story as well as bring conclusions for several other characters in the series. I wanted to give all the characters their moment and leave them off in a satisfactory place. Does this mean that everything is tied up in a nice neat bow, of course not, but I’m pleased with how the book ended and what lay ahead for these characters. I also wanted to leave the series in a place where if I decide to, I can pick it up again, but perhaps from a different character’s point-of-view. You just never know, but for now the series is complete and I’m thrilled with how it all worked out.
Were you a voracious reader as a child?
This is not a question I shy away from, because I think it’s important for people to understand. Not all writers grew up with a love of reading. I grew up with a love of storytelling. I had, and still have, a vivid imagination. But reading was never part of that. I have Dyslexia and reading was always a struggle for me. When I was in school I had to go special classes so I could learn how to read and write. I wasn’t reintegrated in regular classes until Junior High School. I didn’t develop an interest in reading until High School where I had a couple of teachers who understood what I was going through and how to work with me. It’s because of them that I developed a love reading. And it’s because of them that I combined my love of story telling and reading into writing.
What fantasy realm would you choose to live in and why?
I wouldn’t mind living in the realm of like Lord of the Rings, or Game of Thrones, but then I think about the smell and the lack of hygiene and have to think better of it. Still, I think it might be kind of neat to spend an afternoon there especially if they have dragons and magic, which are both exceedingly cool. You know, what would be idea, living in the world of Star Trek and getting to experience Lord of the Rings, or Game of Thrones on a holodeck…now that would be ideal.
The world is changing quickly for Chris now that he’s part of the Immortal Community. With the events of his past finally behind him, he’s still having visions and true magic is gradually taking hold in our world. There are new challenges that the Immortals must face, but Chris is still new and has no real standing in the immortal community.
Learning that nothing in the Immortal community is what Chris thought and now having to face new threats, how will his new world unfold? Old enemies must work together and longtime friends may not be trustworthy. Who is lurking in the shadows? Why are they here? What does this mean for witches, immortals and humans?
Can Chris’ visions even be trusted given recent events, and how easily his mind is manipulated? With Juliet, Amanda, and Kirtus by his side they have to prevent the immortal and witch community from being exposed. Can they trust the local witches that are there to assist them? Can they trust their fellow Immortals? New friendships are made, and longtime alliances are called into question. How will The Called defeat these latest threats, and what does it mean for our world?
M.D. is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:
Everything I thought was no longer my reality.
I sat with a glass of brandy between my hands, focusing on the fire in Juliet’s office. The oranges, reds, and yellows of the flames danced around the logs, releasing a warmth that barely penetrated my worried exterior. The crackling of the fire tickled my ears as the scent of burning pine lingered in and out of my consciousness. A knot tugged the back of my neck. What was this new vision? Worse yet, what did it have to do with me? Not to mention Juliet, Kirtus, Gregor, and the other Immortals.
“Chris.” Juliet’s gentle voice pulled me from my fog of apprehension.
How long had I been like this? A minute? A day? A year? I wasn’t sure. I turned from the fire. Kirtus sat next to me on the sofa, his coat removed, replaced by an air of worry. His red hair, green and gray eyes typically so intoxicating, brought me no joy. Gregor’s tall solid frame blocked one of Juliet’s bookcases, his rugged face a shadow of concern. All of Juliet’s tomes and books, several of them personal journals of her long life, sat there taunting me. Would they be able to unravel this new vision? This new mystery? They were next to no help with the witches, or my father. The monster. I sipped my brandy, hoping it would take the chill from my soul.
I caught Juliet out of the corner of my eye waiting for me to speak. She was patient as always. She sat with her ivory pant-clad leg crossed and a glass of red in her hand, but deep in her stunning eyes there was unease. Despite her apprehension in moments like this, she appeared so young. Nevertheless, behind that façade of youth was the power of an Immortal who had been around for 1650 years. No one should ever underestimate her.
My eyes narrowed on the red, and my stomach flipped, not from hunger or desire but from this new burden I was meant to carry.
“Would you like a glass?” she offered. Her dark blonde hair, normally combed out, was in a ponytail, making her appear all the younger. I caught a whiff of vanilla and roses, her signature scent. I inhaled deeper, hoping it would soothe me.
I shook my head.
“I realize it’s difficult, but please can you tell us the vision again.” Juliet’s voice was a whisper, but the request rang in my head. How many times would I have to retell this story?
I put the half-full brandy glass on the coffee table, recalling the images to me. “I’m standing in some kind of chamber, but it’s not anyplace I’ve been.” I scanned their three faces. “It’s not here.” My heart pounded louder in my chest. I focused on my breathing a bit more before I continued. “In the center, there is what appears to be a formal table of polished stone with nine ornately carved chairs around it. On the wall…” I kept my eyes closed and focused on the wall. “There’s a mural. You’re in it, Juliet; so is Sybil, Garrett, Fernando, Rahim, all the members of the Council of Light.”
“The council chamber in Egypt.” Juliet tapped her finger on the edge of her glass, the noise echoing throughout her office.
The sentence was barely spoken before all the images of my vision flashed back. It was too much, and my eyes flew open. Juliet, Gregor, and Kirtus surveyed me. Considering their strained expressions, they are worried about me. I waved off their unease and shook my head.
“What else?” Gregor’s deep voice cool and calm, but the glance he shared with Juliet betrayed his composure. He didn’t understand what to do with this information any more than I did.
I pulled the vision to my thoughts and continued, “The wall with the mural began to crack and crumble and I smell smoke. The chamber is on fire…” I focused on Juliet. “The stone table crumbles. The chairs burn and everything is in shambles.”
Juliet nodded and sipped her red.
“Something or someone destroyed it, but I didn’t see them.”
“Who could do such a thing?” Kirtus rubbed his hands together. “Only the Council of Light knows the actual location.”
“What else do you see?” Juliet’s peaceful aura melted my worry and fear. After a moment my thoughts cleared. Normally I would be upset at her for using her gift on me, but I needed it. Especially after all that had happened these last few weeks. My mother’s sacrifice to save me and kill my father still haunted me. My father’s death came after we discovered he was in charge of a coven of witches who wanted to destroy the world. It was a battle we had to fight to stop the witches from releasing true magic into our world.
We failed at that. True magic had still seeped into our world before we cut it off.
I had hoped it was all behind us. I wanted things to return to normal, but my gift of being a Seer had other plans. I focused once more on the brandy, wanting a sip but not taking it; my gaze returned to the fire. More of the vision came forward. “As the room fell to ruin and the mural burned, a large carved wooden chair with inlays of gold and decorated with jewels pushed the debris away.” I closed my eyes again. “There was a shadow figure sitting in the chair.”
“Who is it?” Kirtus asked.
“I’m not sure, but I hear his voice.” I pushed my eyes together tighter to help me hear.
“I’ve stayed out of the way of history, but it’s time to return and bring what is right and just back to this world.” I took a breath. “That’s what he said, but I don’t sense malice from him, but I don’t know. Sorrow and pain, maybe. Sacrifice?”
“What does he look like?” Juliet called me to focus.
“He’s tall and he’s wearing some kind of toga with deep crimson and white stripes. I can’t really see anything else.” My eyes fluttered open.
Everyone was silent. The crackle of the fire might as well have been the rumble of a train going through the room. It was unbearable, and I was about to speak.
Kirtus beat me to it. “Why don’t we take a break?”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. After the man vanished, I was standing on a grass-covered pasture. In front of me was a hill with a young girl sitting there laughing and clapping her hands. She had long brown hair and her gaze planted on an oversized full moon. It was impossibly big.” I sighed. “I’m sorry but that’s all.” I slouched deeper in the couch, focusing my own gaze on the ceiling and the rich wood inlays and trim. “I have no idea what any of it means.” The square patterns offered my brain a relaxing, ordered shape.
“That’s okay.” Gregor’s voice was stronger now as if he realized what needed to be done.
Maybe he did. I couldn’t be sure.
“You’ve given us a lot of information to go through. Add that to the reports of magic both Victor and I have seen. There is a lot happening we still have to address,” Gregor continued. “Once we begin to break it down, perhaps more will come to you.”
I faced him. “Maybe. I hope so, because right now, it feels like a whole lot of nothing. Especially when you are already dealing with these other problems.”
“We’re all new to this Seer business.” Kirtus’s hand rested on my leg.
His touch caused a shiver to rush through my body, and right now, all I wanted to do was take him to me, hold him, and get lost in his arms and warm body.
“Plus, it’s not like you haven’t been through a whole lot of hell over the last few weeks.” Kirtus offered me a grin, the single dimple on his left cheek popping out. It melted away more of my worry.
“Is it possible it’s another witch?” Kirtus asked. “Especially if magic is involved.”
He must have already known about the reports of magic being seen both in San Jose and up in San Francisco. Either way he didn’t seem surprised by this news. Or, he could have an amazing poker face.
I turned toward Juliet, who had left the chair she was sitting in and walked over to her office windows to look out. Her ivory pants and jade-green shirt somehow still looked as crisp as the moment she had glided into my bedroom only a few hours ago.
“I doubt it’s a witch, especially given the comment about staying out of histories way and setting things right.” Juliet’s voice was tight. “The clothing Chris describes is a Roman Senator, I think.” She turned to me and the others. “Another Immortal, maybe, one from the fall of Rome.”
“That doesn’t narrow the list down.” Gregor pulled at his goatee. “Especially if we include the Dark.” His frown stretched farther across his face. “Perhaps we need to talk to Victor.”
“I can ask him,” Kirtus offered. “He mentioned he wanted to see me this week.” He tried not to grimace.
Was it about the lieutenant position and the posting as his representative to the Council of Light? What he mentioned to me earlier tonight? Was that what he wanted to speak to him about?
“Thank you.” Gregor offered a slight bow of his head. “Juliet, is there anyone you know who can help with this?” He walked over to the golden cart with the bottles of alcohol and red on it. He poured himself a glass of red. “What about the witches you know here? What about the local coven? You have a good relationship with them. What about the one who charmed this estate?”
Juliet’s lips pulled into a small frown. She crossed over to the cart and poured herself another glass of red.
“I could have gotten you that.” Gregor’s tone was gentle.
She waved him off before she sipped her drink. “He’s a Healer, not a witch, and I’m not sure if he will assist us; we have an unfortunate history.” She held her drink in one hand and pulled a book from the shelf. She turned to her desk and walked to her seat, a quiet, far-off look about her.
I peeked over at Kirtus. “We should go.” I stood and glanced over to Juliet. “You have a lot on your plate with the reports of magic. I’m sorry I’ve added to the burden, but with this new vision I figured you needed to know.”
“Chris, if you see anything else…” She trailed off.
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Chris.” Gregor extended his hand. “This new vision and perhaps the magic we’ve seen may be related.”
“I hope not.” The pull of Kirtus’s body helped me realize he was by my side. “I’ll see if I can track down anyone on my end.” He glanced over to Juliet. “My network isn’t nearly as broad as yours, but you never know.”
“I think we’ll need all the help we can get,” Gregor affirmed.
I spared a worried glance at Juliet. Something was bothering her, and it wasn’t just my vision or the reports of magic. I didn’t recognize what it was, but I understood my creator well enough to leave her be. She would tell me once she had processed her thoughts and all my vision information.
She met my gaze. “Yes, we’ll speak more. Thank you for understanding.”
“Of course.” I took Kirtus’s hand, and we walked out of her office for the second time tonight.
M.D. Neu is an international award-winning inclusive queer Fiction Writer with a love for writing and travel. Living in the heart of Silicon Valley (San Jose, California) and growing up around technology, he’s always been fascinated with what could be. Specifically drawn to Science Fiction and Paranormal television and novels, M.D. Neu was inspired by the great Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, Stephen King, Alice Walker, Alfred Hitchcock, Harvey Fierstein, Anne Rice, and Kim Stanley Robinson. An odd combination, but one that has influenced his writing.
Growing up in an accepting family as a gay man he always wondered why there were never stories reflecting who he was. Constantly surrounded by characters that only reflected heterosexual society, M.D. Neu decided he wanted to change that. So, he took to writing, wanting to tell good stories that reflected our diverse world.
When M.D. Neu isn’t writing, he works for a non-profit and travels with his biggest supporter and his harshest critic, Eric his husband of twenty plus years.
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