Friday, July 6, 2012

Casting characters - ARC giveaway!

How many people “cast” mentally when they’re writing, or reading, a book? I used to have faces in mind when I wrote anything, but these days I hear the internal creation, and rarely “see” a face associated with what I write. Yet, many people ask the question, and I’ve been watching debate over casting choices for movies based on novels for the past couple of months – the diversity of the faces that people envision as perfect for the roles they’re discussing is remarkable. We all read the same words, but do those words ever inspire different visions!

Some of my older work had very defined looks when I wrote them, often I cast an actor in my mind, put his/her name on the outline, and that became the template. My last release from Ellora’s Cave had an actor cast, his name is Steven Bauer as he looked in a movie called Thief of Hearts back in the 80s. In the novel I’m working on now, the villain is cast, but not the hero – you just never know which face will appear in the form of a familiar presence.

I have a new vampire tale coming out in a few weeks at New Dawning Book Fair, and the central character there was created with David Bowie as the template – the way he looked in Labyrinth as Jareth, the Goblin King. It works well, believe me! He’s positively decadent and amoral. The cover artist captured him pretty well, too. I’ll post the cover with this, and you can see for yourself.

Do you prefer obviously recognizable faces on the covers, or is it more fun to “create” your own vision as you read? I’ve noticed a huge trend in cover art recently that is minimalist in appearance, focusing on a symbolic object from the story, rather than a couple or a hero. Which type of cover do you prefer, or does it matter at all?


Here’s a peek at the next release, which is called Hunters’ Game, this is not the final edit:

Moving deeper into the underground nightlife of Goths and thrill junkies, she relaxed. It took only moments to locate the bar Demetri had named earlier in the evening, and she approached it with mild curiosity. She stopped on the sidewalk, immune to the mutters and curses her abrupt halt caused as people stumbled around her. The sign drew her eyes upward. Her mood became wicked, delighted as she read the name: Savage Garden.

He couldn’t have picked a more appropriate place. She didn’t doubt for an instant that she would find him inside; his presence like a flame illuminating the path that would lead her to salvation. Or, more aptly, eternal damnation.

A secretive and seductive curve to her mouth, she answered the siren-song of her lover’s call. A crowd stood outside the entrance and she walked past them, ignoring the mutterings of discontent her audacity incited. The young man at the door, selecting the clientele for the night, stared at her. His smile was like so many she’d seen that night, speculative and calculating and oblivious to the mortal danger his lust for her put him in.

“What can I do for you, darling?” His faint British accent added a pleasant lilt to the insolent query.

He was a nice-looking boy, tall, fair and filled with his own importance.

“Let me go in.”

“Let me go in and you can have whatever you want, sweetheart,” he murmured when he leaned close and his tongue flicked at her earlobe.

“Later.” She locked her gaze with his, penetrating his mind with little effort. “You’re busy at the moment.” She nipped at his bottom lip. She chewed the trapped fullness of his lip and laughed when he jerked back, a droplet of blood staining the corner of his mouth. She leaned close again and licked at the crimson smear, an electric shock of excitement exploding in her veins when the metallic taste lingered on her tongue.

She stepped past him, laughing as she released her mental hold on him and felt his confusion drift out of her awareness.

Inside, the bar was dark and turbid. Her eyes flared for several heartbeats, then her preternatural vision sharpened and defined shapes and shadows with vivid clarity. Demetri had arrived before her. The stairwell echoed weirdly with the hammering beat of the music and she almost floated up into the dark room.

At the top of the stairs she paused again. Unnecessary breaths quickened with excitement and anticipation. The fiery red fixture hanging from the ceiling above her head sent tendrils of light spiraling outward, the crimson streaks of bloody color glinted off chrome, absorbed by the shadows. A powerful strobe turned the dancers into frantic marionettes as the madness of the primal music carried them into their own private darkness.

COMING SOON from New Dawning International Book Fair

CURRENT RELEASE: Jaded Hearts

Read an excerpt here


***** GIVEAWAY *****

I'll grab a random name from the comments at the end of the week, and that person will receive an advance copy of HUNTERS' GAME as soon as I have it in hand! Thanks, everyone!

Denysé
Denysé Bridger
"Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy..."
** Best-Selling Author of 2011 **
WEBSITE: http://www.denysebridger.com
Fantasy Pages (general): http://fantasy-pages.blogspot.com
Bound By Passion (adult content): http://boundpassion.blogspot.com


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