Interview with Author Bailey Ordiway

Today I have an excellent interview with multi-genre author Bailey Ordiway, who chats about his writing and his books. Enjoy.

Interview with Bailey Ordiway

Why don’t you begin by sharing a little about yourself.

I was born in Michigan and spent a great deal of my life there. I grew up on farms and in small towns, going to small schools. After I dropped out of high school I got my GED and went to college. My major changed a dozen times throughout, but, it was a great experience. After that I joined the Army, that was cut short very quickly though. I'm now married and live in South Dakota where I own my own business and write daily.


Could you tell us a bit about your latest book?
American Holdovers is my third published novel and chronicles not only my time, but, also my many friends and fellow holdovers during our time as a holdover at Ft. Jackson during a hurricane and the consequences and events that transpired because of this a couple years back.

You write in several genres. Do you have a favourite? And if so, why?

I actually don't, no. I try to write in multiple genres to not get stuck in a niche and expand my writing horizons. I'd also like to have something for everyone.


Why did you write this book? What was your inspiration?

Well I thought that it was a story that needed to be told. Not very many people know that holdovers are even a thing, and it's wildly undocumented. On top of that I believed it was a good story, a series of unfortunate events occurred one after another that just makes for a good read.


What did you enjoy most about writing your book?

It was nice to relieve some of the better experiences I had with my friends and keep the experience alive for us all.


When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

I've wanted to be a writer since I was very young. I would always look at my mothers bookshelf as a child and just think "one day I will have my name up there".


Can you tell us about your writing process? Where do your ideas originate? Do you have a certain writing routine?

I find it difficult to focus. So, because of that everything I write is meticulously outlined. Before I ever even open a word document I fill up multiple binders on my book. Everything from minor characters to a step by step progression of each chapter. When I do eventually write however I sit at the same desk, listen to the same music, drink the same coffee, and light the same candle.


Do you have a favourite author, or writing inspiration?

John Green is by far my favorite author. Being a fan of his is rather torturous though since he releases a book about every five years at this point.


Are you working on another book?

I will be, soon. I have been working on this one for nearly two years now though and would like to focus a bit on my blog. I enjoy writing movie reviews and it has gone to the back burner a bit while writing this book.

You can find Bailey Ordiway's latest book, American Holdovers, on Amazon.

And you can check out the rest of his books at his Amazon page.

For more on the author check out these sites.

Goodreads  Twitter  Website

Drabble Wednesday: The Silent Bride

Today on Drabble Wednesday, a story in three parts as we walk down a terrifying aisle into a strange world of repression and anarchy...

Obedience

He signed the contract with a shaking hand. Finally to be wed at five and twenty. Most gentlemen his age had several matrimonial years under their belt, plus heirs. And here he must resort to a disreputable matchmaking service.

Quite the ignominy for his noble house.

“Are you certain she’ll be as I requested? Properly compliant?”

“Yes sir. She’ll never talk back to you.”

“Bring her in then.”

The ringing of a small bell ushered in his bride-to-be.

“Smile for your betrothed, girl.”

She did as bid, her mouth opening wide enough to show where they cut out her tongue.

~*~

Wedding Night

“She won’t say a word. Can’t, milord.” The constable cast his eyes downward in apology. “She’s mute. One of those brides from Conformist Matchmaking.”

“So, he went through with it. Now dead on his wedding night.” He strode to the woman sitting quietly in a corner, avoiding the corpse on the bed.

He knelt down, whispering. “You’ll hang for his murder.”

She smiled, her tongueless mouth in a gaping grin. She held up a bloodied left hand and slipped a dagger from beneath her skirt. In one quick motion she stabbed, and the grand Lord joined his son in death.

~*~

Revolution

The boy at the newsstand held up the latest edition, and screamed out the headlines to attract customers, “Conformist Bride Killer linked to Death Cult! Killing of Lord Everett and his son one of several dozen murders! Conformist Matchmaking under investigation!”

Nearby, two women listened, the older one whispering to her companion. “Our soldiers succeeded admirably. We achieved victory.”

“At a cost. Those women will hang.”

“Some will. Others...” She shrugged. “But many more were never detected. All the key men are dead. No one suspects our revolution. By year’s end the kingdom will be ours, and women will rule.”

 © A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights Reserved 

Book Spotlight: Wages of Sin: Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Today I bring to book spotlight on the horror/paranormal novel Wages of Sin: Blood, Sweat, and Tears by Laurencia Hoffman (and Sophie Smith). This is the third book in the Wages of Sin series.

Wages of Sin: Blood, Sweat, and Tears by Laurencia Hoffman and Sophie Smith

Time is running out for Izzy with Darien breathing down her neck, and she is convinced that she will live out the remainder of her days in misery. Yet, in her despair, she finds hope and love. But those things are difficult to keep for anyone with the surname of Auckley.
When Melina becomes impregnated with the child of a vampire – something that was thought to be impossible – those around her know that she is in grave danger. A foe from long ago resurfaces to stake his claim, not only on Melina but her unborn child as well.
While Blake struggles with the reality of Melina's predicament, new revelations, old secrets, and fresh betrayals unfold before their very eyes.

Wages of Sin: Blood, Sweat, and Tears is available on Amazon

Book Trailer

Author Bio:

Laurencia Hoffman is the author of Casting Stones, Bittersweet, A Wish for Remembrance, Life and Death, No Love Lost, Star Crossed: Worlds Apart (published under her legal name: Jolene Poole), and co-author of The Wages of Sin series.

Laurencia lives with her family in Michigan. When she's not writing she also enjoys making her own line of natural products, satisfying her sweet tooth, and watching films.

For more on her books, check out her Amazon Page

Drabble Wednesday: Ashen

Today on Drabble Wednesday, come explore the world of the pale, the cold, the stark and white...

The Pale Tree

It stood apart from the rest of the grove, growing tall from a small hummock. The rough bark of the tree glinted snow white with streaks of silver, its branches bare save for one month a year when it sprouted greyish buds. The only colour it showed came from a green vine twining around its trunk, and even it bloomed flowers of white in season.

Underneath the tree, entangled in its roots rested another layer of white. Slowly seeping into soil, nurturing it, those rotted corpses and bones of the poor victims buried alive.

Sacrifices.

To the Tree of Death.

~*~

Under the Frozen Earth

The sun sets on silence, and a vast frozen wasteland. No wind blows, no birds fly, not a sound breaks the settling of dusk on the world. Only the cold, the snow, and the deep frozen expanse that ever tightens its grip exist.

The cold and frost run deep. Down, down to the Old World, the world that once existed. A place of faraway dreams and summer. A realm that died in its own hubris, swallowed by the endless winter. A domain that yet whispers, locked in its prison of ice. Where the dead stare upward, frozen in their screams.

~*~

White Petals and Lace

Remains of the past.

One white rose and a scrap of ivory-coloured lace.

Resting next to a small silver box.

The pale kitchen curtains flutter in the breeze, and the sweet smell of summer grasses wafts through the window. If you listen, you can almost hear the laughter drifting across time. When the family gathered for picnics in the yard, when the aroma of potato salad and mayonnaise filled the room.

But those days are long gone.

Only the dead are left, with the last body now crumpled on the kitchen tile.

The poison from the silver box works quickly.

© A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights Reserved

Drabble Wednesday: Freaky Fan Fiction

Something different this week for Drabble Wednesday, a little nonsense, a little snark, a little fun with cartoons and sparkly vampires...

Acme Holiday

On an ordinary moonlit night, with the stars shining, night settles over a nondescript laboratory in the middle of an unnamed city.

Inside, tiny voices can be heard...

“What are we going to do tonight, Brain?”

“The same thing we—no.” There is a long pause. “I’m tired of this rat race, Pinky. The same thing night after night. We’re going on vacation!”

“Ooooh, Brain. Narf!”

“Narf indeed. Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pinky?”

“I believe so, Brain. But where would we get the purple frilly tutus to wear on the teacup ride at Disneyworld?”

“To the closet, Pinky!”

~*~

The Truth About Manfredi and Johnson

Amidst sparks and the smell of fish, came the question...

“Are they ready, Kowalski?”

“Aye, aye, Skipper. Project Agent Clones is a go!”

Two years later...

“That’s the last of them, Skipper. The last of the clones are dead.”

“A moment of silence, boys, for the fallen. Manfredi and Johnson. The end of their line. Good soldiers, one and all.”

A hush fell, before Skipper continued, “A true tragedy, but really who could’ve predicted it. Struck down by a rogue herd of buffalo.”

“I believe it was bison, Skipper.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn it was buffalo.”

“No, it was bison.”

 ~*~

End of Twilight

Black scars and broken glass marred a once beautiful house, with its landscape razed to resemble a war zone. Over the trees rose smoke and an acrid smell wafted off the smouldering piles of ashes and corpses.

Across this recent battle ground gathered the victorious army, bloodied and weary. A lone soldier bowed to the commander.

“They are all dead, Count Dracula. Bella, Edward, their ridiculously named daughter, even the werewolves.”

“Good. Then the war is over! Those mutated abominations have been vanquished! True vampire kind has finally prevailed!”

A cheer rose with the smoke of the enemy's funeral pyres.

© A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights Reserved