I'm excited to have a dear friend, April Aasheim, here today talking about how she became a paranormal fantasy author. Be sure to check out her new release The Good Girl's Guide to Being a Demon.
How I Became a
Paranormal Fantasy Writer – April Aasheim
I’ve always had an interest in the supernatural, the metaphysical,
and the fantastic.
I suppose it started in my childhood. My mother was a
practicing enchantress. I say enchantress rather than witch because at times
I’m not even sure that she was aware of her power. She would want something, and
she’d put her entire focus into getting it, and somehow in would magically
present itself.
Aside from my mother’s ‘gift’ there were other draws to the fantasy
world. Our house was filled with book, both fiction and non-fiction, detailing
other worlds just outside our own. These ranged from books on psychic
phenomena, mysticism, and hauntings to works by Poe, King and Tolkien. I’d pick
up these grown-up books, completely fascinated by the concept of what could be.
This made me a very interesting kid in school, sometimes a nerd, and sometimes
the most popular, depending on the age or the season.
When I was in Junior High I was introduced to the concept of high
fantasy. There was a group of boys in the back of my English class who were
always whispering, rolling dice, and telling secrets. My inquisitive mind had
to know what they were doing, and being female, it was easy to infiltrate their
group. I soon found out about a marvelous new way to play games called
role-playing. In this manner, I could become anybody that I wanted to be:
sorceress, a druid, or a butt-kicking buccaneer. It was a great reprieve from
my tumultuous home life where my mom and step-father were going through a nasty
divorce.
My brother later picked up the game and became what is known
as a Dungeon Master, creating his own games. Me and my other brothers and
sisters would be his guinea pigs. He took us on mental adventures deep underground,
aloft at sea, and into haunted villages. It was thrilling for a book-geek like
me to live some of these adventures, and to have a hand at creating my own. I
think in some ways that helped me later as a writer. Whenever I was stuck, I’d
ask myself ‘what’s the craziest thing that can happen now?’ and I’d draw upon
my old role-playing experiences and the answer would come, often in the form of
life-sucking demon or an evil witch.
In high school, I went to live with my biological father. He
was a martial artist who also studied theology. He taught me about world
religion: Christianity, Buddhism, and Hinduism to name a few. He also showed me
how many religions have a mystical side. It was the mystical draw that
intrigued me, and the fact that they shared similarities. I gobbled that stuff
up, though I had no idea what to do with all that knowledge. No one wanted to
hear my lectures on comparative religion and mysticism. And so I let it sit,
knowing someday I’d use that information for something rather than annoyance.
In college, I majored in social work. I worked in the field
for several years, but I admit that it was too stressful for me. I knew I was
doing some good, but it never seemed to be enough. The hours were long, the
commute miserable, and I felt spread too thin. Eventually, I got burnt out.
(And I now have great respect for all those in the helping fields!)
About five years ago I started writing novels. At first, I
thought I’d actually be a women’s fiction writer because I enjoy exploring
relationships and because of my social work background. I had developed a good
base of knowledge on psychology, what makes people tick, and the moral issues
that come from day-to-day life. It seemed like a natural fit for me.
But I was still drawn to my earlier passions – magic and
fantasy and the unknown. Maybe it was because I was ‘all grown up’ but I missed
the simple things like believing in Santa Claus, casting pretend spells, and
seeing ghosts in the middle of the night.
One day, quite suddenly, it dawned on me that I can combine all
of the things I had learned in life. I could write about real people with real
problems, forming real relationships that weren’t always neat and tidy. But I
could also add in a touch of whimsy, magic, and even outright fantasy. And when
I started to mix all of these ingredients together, I knew I was on the right
path.
And so now I happily spend my days creating characters who
are very real, they just happen to be experiencing extraordinary events. Some
discover dormant powers, others find hidden relics, and others see magic fall
from the stars. Some even grow horns.
I never set out to be a fantasy writer. I think the
profession actually chose me. But we all need a little magic in our life and if
I can help just one person reclaimed the wonder of their childhood for even a
moment, I feel like I’ve done a little bit of good in the world.
The
Good Girl’s Guide to Being a Demon
April
Aasheim
Genre: (sweet) Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Dark Root Press
Date of Publication: Nov 15, 2015
ASIN: B016NZTP4C
Number of pages: 157
Word Count: 42,000
Cover Artist: J.M Rising Horse
Creations
Book Description:
Strange changes are happening to
Cassie Walker. She’s losing track of time, seeing shadows, and
developing…horns?
Fearful, she returns to her
childhood home to solve the mystery of what she’s becoming. There, she meets up
with childhood friend, Josh Tucker, who convinces her to enter the annual Demon
Run in Woodland Creek.
But things aren’t always what they
seem in Woodland Creek, and people aren’t who they appear to be.
Soon, Cassie finds not only herself
in danger, but Josh as well.
Can she save them both? Or has her
lineage tainted her forever?
Excerpt: Prologue
The creek churned,
black and thick as tar under the cloak of night.
Cassie Martin
stumbled along the raging waterway as she searched for the North Star,
Polaris––the star that would guide her home.
It was in the tail
of one of the dipper constellations, she remembered, but which one? She tried
to call it up as she ambled along, while her ears listened uneasily to noises
created by the dark: howls and heavy footsteps, scurries and whisperings.
To her right there
was smoke accompanied by the crackling sound of a roaring campfire. She wanted
to run to it––to tell whoever was tending the s’mores that she was lost and
afraid and could they please escort her back to her cabin?
But fear kept her
out of the woods. She had read enough books to know the woods were full of bad
things––bears and werewolves and things that wanted to eat you. So she followed
the creek, for lack of other options.
She shouldn’t have
been so stupid, she scolded herself. She knew there was no such thing as a
Snipe, but she went along anyway because her brother Kevin teased her about
being afraid.
“I am not,” she’d
said, balling up her fists.
“Then prove it,”
Kevin returned. “Go into the woods and find a Snipe. If you do, I’ll never call
you scared again.”
Her best friend
Jenn wrapped an arm around Cassie’s shoulders. “I’ll go with you, Cass. We’ll
find that Snipe.”
Only their friend
Josh seemed worried, elbowing Kevin in the ribs. “They’re only nine, dude.”
“So?” Eleven-year-old
Kevin argued. “At nine we were sneaking beer out of dad’s cooler and watching
late night HBO. These girls need to man up, Josh. We won’t be around to take
care of them forever.”
“We can take care
of ourselves,” Cassie said, sticking out her tongue. “We’ll get that Snipe.
Then you’ll admit that girls are better than boys.”
“If you bring us a
Snipe,” Kevin said, “I’ll admit anything you want.” He spit into his hand.
Cassie spit on hers too. The siblings shook on it.
The problem was
that Jenn disappeared shortly after entering the woods with her. Now Cassie was
alone and disoriented. “Jenn!” she called nervously, trying not to awaken the
bad things lurking. She hated it in here alone. She felt watched, as if the
trees had eyes.
When she heard the
sound of rushing water she remembered the creek ran behind her campsite.
She would follow
it back…
She ran through
the trees, half covering her eyes, and when she emerged in a narrow clearing
she spotted her watery guide. The creek was swollen and bloated. It didn’t
trickle. It gushed. In the dark it moved like a winding, creeping serpent on
the hunt, ready to devour her.
“Kevin!” she called out, cupping her mouth
with her hands. “Jenn! Josh?” Her words were met with a low mournful wail,
followed by an even more frightening silence.
Her father once
told her that if she got lost, she should find a spot and wait for someone to
come. Spying a tree stump, she sat down. The summer moon was nearly full and
several fireflies lent their talents to holding back the dark. It would have
been beautiful, if she wasn’t so scared.
“One
Miss-issippi,” she counted, deliberately slowing the first syllable. “Two
Miss-issippi…”
Another wail
echoed through the night, bouncing off tree limbs and ringing through boughs.
It was quickly followed by another. Banshees? Ghosts? Wolves? Tree branches
rustled as if spirits played an invisible game of tag.
Dad will come, she
told herself. He always came. He’d see she was missing and he’d find her––and
Jenn as well.
The sounds grew
louder, like the moans of old ladies crying at a funeral. Cassie shivered,
wrapping her arms around her chest to shield herself from whatever came.
Several twigs snapped nearby, followed by the sound of small, scurrying feet.
With building fear, she bolted from the stump and raced along the water’s edge,
following as it churned towards its unseen destination.
Soon the clearing
ended and the woods began. She spun around, uncertain where to go. Back towards
the moaning sounds or into the blackness of the trees?
Her decision was
made when she saw them.
The Shadow People.
An army of them,
dropping from tree branches and skittering her way. Their sizes were varied but
their faces were all the same, dark expressionless blobs with unblinking eyes.
They were quiet as
cats as they came for her, and more terrible than wild animals or werewolves or
things that would eat you. The Shadow People didn’t eat you. They took you
away.
Cassie fled in the
opposite direction, away from the forest, screaming as she went. Her voice
joined in with the chorus of wails, until it all became the sound of the wind.
Risking a glance
back over her shoulder, her foot hit a sleek stone. She slipped and tumbled,
falling into the cold raging water.
“Help!” She called
out just before she was pulled under.
When she surfaced
she caught hold of a branch extending out from the bank. She clung to it with
both hands while her feet pulled her downstream. The creek gnawed at her,
biting and ripping at her skin and clothes, chewing up one shoe and then the
other. She couldn’t hold on for very long. At any moment she would be swept
away.
Above her, she
spotted the North Star.
“Mom,” she
whispered, focusing her wish on the star as the water dragged at her and the
Shadow People advanced. “If you can hear me, please send help.”
A figure sprang
from the woods. A boy, not much taller than herself.
“Josh!” she
called, kicking with her feet as water filled her lungs.
“Cassie!” Josh
grabbed her hand just as she lost her grip on the branch.
He slowly pulled
her from the river’s maw. She crawled onto the bank, coughing up water. He
removed his flannel jacket and wrapped it around her shivering body. When she
could stand again, she hugged him, nearly crying as she rubbed her nose into
his chest.
“I don’t think
there’s such thing as Snipe,” she sputtered.
He laughed and
kissed the top of her head. “But you were brave to find out.”
Her father, her
friend, Jenn, and her brother, Kevin, all appeared, hollering and racing in
their direction.
“Thank God you’re
alright!” Cassie’s father said, scooping her up in his arms. “You had me scared
to death. You can’t go traipsing off by yourself like that, young lady! You’ve
got to be more careful.” He lifted her chin firmly. “Promise me.”
Behind him,
Kevin’s eyes were imploring. If she told about the Snipe hunt, her brother
would be in big trouble. And possibly Josh, as well.
She nodded. “I’ll
be careful from now on. I promise.”
“Good.” Her dad
carried her back to their rented cabin but her gaze remained affixed on Josh.
He walked alongside them, his blue eyes shining like the moon.
About
the Author:
April Aasheim is a full time writer
with interests in the paranormal, the supernatural, and the metaphysical.
Having ‘seen things’ at an early age, April has made it her life’s work to seek
out the truth, and then to write about her findings in the guise of fiction.
She lives in Portland, Oregon with
her family and is the author of the Amazon best-selling witchy series: The
Daughters of Dark Root.
@aprilaasheim
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