Series: Darklight series
Paperback: 274 pages
Publication Date: October 2, 2012
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
~ Book Description ~
Ten years ago, Lorelei's parents disappeared without a trace. Raised by her grandparents and leaning on the support of her best friends, Lorelei is finally beginning to accept the fact that her parents are never coming home. For Lorelei, life goes on.
High school is not quite as painful as she thinks it will be, and things are as normal as they can be. Until the day the school's designated loner, Cameron Lusk, begins to stalk her, turning up where she least expects it, standing outside her house in the dark, night after night. Things get even more complicated when a new guy—terrifying, tough, sexy Jared Kovach—comes to school. Cameron and Jared instantly despise each other and Lorelei seems to be the reason for their animosity. What does Jared know about her parents? Why does Cameron tell Jared he can't have Lorelei? And what will any of them do when Death comes knocking for real? Thrilling, sassy, sexy, and inventive, Darynda Jones's first foray into the world of teens will leave readers eager for the next installment.
My interview with Darynda Jones
When I started the first in the Darklight trilogy years ago, I knew I wanted to work on another YA project and I wanted it to be paranormal, so I just asked myself, if I were still in high school, who would be the last person I’d expect to see in algebra? Somewhere on that list was the Angel of Death.
But the fun part was figuring out WHY he was there. *insert evil laugh*
3.) How was it different writing the YA series verses your Adult series?
I don’t find it that different, to be honest. I write with a rather young voice anyway, so the switch between the two is fairly effortless. I think the main difference for me is the fact that in my adult material, my heroine is quite flippant. I had to tone down that attitude for the YA. It is a bit more angsty.
I love the fight scenes with a fiery passion. They are fun to envision and to write. And for some reason, I think my favorite character is Brooklyn, my heroine’s best friend. I just like her. She is honest to the point of being brutal and yet fun and fiercely loyal. Everyone needs a BFF just like her.
5.) When your starting to write a new book do you use a outline and if so can you tell us a little bit about how you set yours up?
I certainly can. I have quite the process, and I have learned NOT to mess with that process lest bring the wrath of the gods of writer’s block down upon my head. Here is what I do, and remember, you asked! Hahaha. (Pantsers [aka, people who write by the seat of their pants] might want to skip this part.)
alma mater, Riley High, and we practically lived in our corner
booth. I ducked past the snack counter and into a very dark back
hall. Judging by the boxes lining the narrow passage, I’d be taking
my life into my hands if I risked a journey to the little senorita’s
room without illumination, so I ran my hand along a
paneled wall. Where would I be if I were a light switch? Just as
the tips of my fingers found the switch, a silhouette stepped out
of the shadows and brushed past me. I startled with a gasp.
“Excuse me,” I said, placing a hand over my heart.
“Sorry.” The guy paused slightly before continuing on his
long arm with shadowy curves that dipped around the fluid
lines of muscle; a tall, wide shoulder; dark hair that curled playfully
over an ear and led to a strong, masculine jaw. Something
inside me lurched, craving a closer look at his face, but he walked
by too fast and the hall was too dark for me to catch anything
After a couple of seconds, I realized my hand had brushed
like the flash of a nuclear bomb, bright and unforgiving. Tamping
down my surprise— I hadn’t had a vision in a very long time— I
pressed shaking fingers to my forehead to wait out the familiar
torm, to see what treasures would wash ashore in the aftermath.
of this world: A desolate landscape lay before me with scorched
clouds and a roiling, violet sky. The air was stagnant and so impossibly
thick, breathing it took effort. Then I heard the clanging
of metal. I turned to watch in horror as a being, a boy of no more
than sixteen or seventeen, fierce and somehow not quite human,
struggled with a dark, monstrous beast. The boy’s arms corded as
tendon and muscle strained against the weight of the sword he
wielded. He slashed again and again, but the monster was fast,
with razorlike talons and sharp, gleaming teeth, and the boy
knew what those teeth felt like when they sank into flesh, knew
the blinding pain that accompanied defeat. But he also knew the
power he himself wielded, the raw strength that saturated every
molecule of his body.
shoulder and continued through its thick chest. The monster
sank under the boy’s sword with a guttural scream. The boy
looked on while the beast writhed in pain, watched it grow still
as the life drained out of it, and somewhere in the back of the
boy’s mind, he allowed himself to register the burning of his
lungs as he struggled to fill them with air.
Blood trickled between his fingers, down the length of his
the trail of blood up to three huge gashes across his chest.
Evidently three of the monster’s claws had met their mark,
laying the flesh of its enemy open. I gasped and covered my
mouth with both hands as the boy spun toward me, sword at the
ready. Squinting against the low sun, I could almost make out
his features, but the vision evaporated before I got the chance. A
heartbeat later, I was back in the dark hallway, gasping for air,
one palm pressed against my temple, the other against the wall
I squeezed my eyes shut, fought the memory of the vision,
the feel of blood dripping down the boy’s arm.
About the Author:
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