Sasha

From

White Wolf

Copyright © 2017 by Lauren Gilley

All Rights Reserved 

Nikita.

Good. Kind. Dangerous.

Friend. Pack.

There was so much pain. So many sounds. And smells.

Chaos. Too bright, too cold, too much.

He smelled blood, and something dead, and the rank fear-sweat of humans. Humans afraid of him.

If it's true about Dartmoor that I like to write characters who are difficult to like, but easy to love, then it's doubly true of the characters in White Wolf. Maybe. Some of them, at least. I think Sasha is pretty darn loveable and likeable. 

The fun thing about writing, for me anyway, is stepping outside the box of my everyday life and into that of someone who, on the surface, is different in every way. And then excavating down and finding the universal things that make them wonderful, and weird, and familiar. 

Sons of Rome, being paranormal, gives me a chance to explore with a freedom that doesn't exist in a closed environment like a biker club. There are still rules to this paranormal world, yes, but we can go anywhere, peek in on anyone, and see things through an array of lenses. It's freeing, and at moments worrying - do I have the writing chops for this? - but it affords more latitude when it comes to characters. 

Sasha is nineteen, Siberian, naïve, and kind-hearted. By contrast, his friends are jaded, experienced, necessarily violent, and duplicitous - also necessarily. It's delightful to invert the trope, and turn the sweet boy into the monster...and the monsters into the helpless tagalongs. 

My Dear Brave Girls

 

My Dear Brave Girls,

 

These books are really about you, and I hope you know that. You are the keepers of the peace, the home fires, the history, taken down in tidy scrawl in your minds. Yours is an adaptive, flexible, unbreakable strength. An unspoken peace. A Southern woman need not say she is strong; it's shining there in all the perfect, subtle lines of your perseverance, for those with eyes to see.

 

Jenny, thank you for struggling with your trauma. For being honest with the fact that you're not okay. You need not apologize to anyone.

 

Sam, thank you for loving Aidan, even if I can't. For seeing the good in him, the sweet motherless boy who needs you.

 

Emmie, thank you for loving something enough to fear losing it. Thank you for working hard, though the reward may be little.

 

Holly, thank you for holding onto your innocence. For touching the innocence in Michael.

 

Maggie, thank you for being everyone's mama, always. You are the queen, and you love your king, though his softness is hard to see.

 

And Ava. My girl Ava. You know you're my favorite. You know how I love to live inside your head, because it frightens and inspires me, the way you see things in absolutes, even when you tried to pretend you didn't, that you belonged in the real world. Thank you for reminding me that this story was worth holding onto, a year ago, when you came to visit me when I was sad, dragging Ronnie along with you, in that first scene, on the streets of Knoxville. Thank you, friend. I had missed you, and I didn't even know it.

 

I can't write a story if there are pieces missing. The only way I'm able to work through the exploits of these degenerate man-children of mine are because my girls love them, and convince me daily that they are in fact worth loving. It's as much an adventure for me as it is for my readers, getting to the end. And I do fall in love with the boys, as I come to know them. But I think Leading Ladies get short shrift these days, and I wanted to take a moment to thank mine. My Dear Brave Girls. Thank you for giving an awkward hermit a voice.

Dressage - Jade and Jeremy's sport of choice

The most frequent critique I hear of dressage from non-dressage riders (both from non-horse people and horse people who ride in another discipline) is that it's "fancy." It is fancy. It's ballroom dancing on horseback. It's also very complex and nuanced, and the slightest mistake on the part of the rider is reflected in the horse's movement. It's no more expensive than any other equine sport, though. And the riders are no more snobby - you should see some of those western pleasure princesses with their silver trimmed saddles. With horses, talent is talent and snobbery is snobbery. Different horses are suited for different sports, and as riders, we tend to gravitate toward one in particular. Dressage is detail-oriented and can seem tedious to riders who prefer the thrill of jumping. But dressage riders love the tedium. The sport is all about the level of communication between horse and rider, and maximizing the horse's natural athletic ability.

In Remains, Jade and her BFF Jeremy are both riding instructors, both dressage riders. I know I mention these three movements in the novel and wanted to provide visuals.

 

Extended Trot



Anky van Grunsven riding Salinero at the 2008 Beijing Olympics.

 

 

 

 

Canter Pirouette

 

Silver medalist Adelinde Cornelissen on Parzival (© 2012 by Nancy Jaffer)



 

Half-Pass

 

 



Needless to say, I don't have a horse of this caliber, nor do Jade and Jeremy. But that's the thing about dressage - anyone can participate, at any level. It's all about fitness and knowledge and it's no less fun just because you know you'll never compete at the international level. In my case, not even the national level. I hate showing, actually. I'll compete vicariously through my characters instead.


Rosewood Roses

And everywhere, shifting shadows in the fading light, were flowers.

~Fix You

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Room With A View

 

 

Every significant conversation of my life has taken place in the kitchen. The living room is for TV and lounging. The bedroom is for sleeping, reading and writing at my desk. Every room serves a purpose, and somehow, the kitchen feeds us, acts as office, craft table, and Christmas present-wrapping station, and manages to catch all our most serious heart-to-hearts somewhere between the plates and cups. It's the center of every home, really. The ceiling echoes our laughter and the table top soaks up our tears. It's where the food is. It's where we gather, with our families. It's where the wine is - don't forget that.

 

When we live in a kitchen, we want an outward view: a nice picture window to watch the birds through while we sip coffee (or wine!). But when I'm writing a kitchen, it's the inward view that's important. It's what's inside that room, the laughter and tears of the characters, that matter. It's the heart of their homes, and I want my readers to feel that. And it seems only fitting that the characters have their big talks, their heart-to-heart game changers, in their kitchens too. I'm guilty, I'll admit, of using imaginary kitchens a lot. I love them. I love designing them in my head.

 

These kitchens - white and butcher block and Southern - remind me a lot of Jess's kitchen at Rosewood.

 

Rosewood has a rocking chair front porch too. Porches are for easy, aimless conversations. Maybe more wine. Gentle breezes. And dreams. So many dreams. I dream my dreams on the front porch, amid the smell of gardenias.

Paint this house white, slap some black shutters on the windows, and it looks a lot like a section of wraparound porch at Rosewood.

Don't mind the fat cat...

 

I do a lot of writing in my bedroom. Ellie's a writer too, so I always wanted her to have a dreamy, romantic vibe to her otherwise subtle and tasteful bedroom. I love this bed.

 

 

While characters are looking out, we're looking in. That sounds peeping tom-ish, doesn't it?!

 

Some characters haven't found their homes yet. I'm still helping them with their search...

 





Necklace for Jade

 

Horse head necklace for Jade from Back in the Saddle.

 

Butterflyweed

I mention Butterflyweed in Fix You. Page 165, I believe. It's Jess's birthday and Chris picks some. Because even macho dudes can wander out to the back of the property and pick flowers for their girls. I found some in the pasture and took a picture. Just, you know, in case anyone was wildly interested in the butterflyweed and not the pages of sex that take place before that scene.

Another quote

 

 

“I’m okay, I think. My face broke my fall.”

~Jade, Whatever Remains

New characters, new footwear

Boots for Jade

Ariat Heritage zip paddock boots. Easy on/off; comfy; a barn gal's best friend.

Mountain Horse Victoria tall boots. For clinics and shows.

Boots for Ben

Dingo men's Dean boots. 'Cause nobody wants to see a cop in sneakers.

For Ellie

Watch necklace from Country Outfitter for Ellie circa Dream of You. With appropriate background!

Jade Barn-chic Visuals

Image from shopthefloor.com

**Somehow, talking about Jade has turned into a tribute to Ariat. I'm okay with that; all us horse gals love us some Ariat...everything. This is in no way a sponsored ad.**

 

 

She’d been riding since she was seven, and it was the only area in which she’d ever excelled. Her legs and seat and abs and shoulders knew the rhythms by heart; her body accommodated and encouraged Atlas’s big swinging gaits and her fingers moved feather-light on the reins: flexing here, slowing there. The sound of his hooves on the wet sand was as familiar as music to a dancer.

Jade Donovan

With the exception of Lightning (and we won't go into that), this is the first time I've worked with a character who's a dressage rider. It is so much fun. It's such a detailed, nuanced sport, and that parallels nicely with the ins and outs of the murder mystery that is the underlying plot of the story. Life as a horse trainer prepared Jade - even better than I'd originally thought - for Ben. Horses have a grounding effect: the frivolities of life can't stand up to the routine, the sweat, the work, and the wisdom of the farm. Remains might be Ben Haley's story, but Jade is by no means a secondary character. Her determination to be treated the way she deserves and their love for their daughter have made theirs one of the most interesting relationships to write. I hope all my readers will like her when the release date finally arrives.
 

Image from ariat.com

Jo's Pendant

           “Sorry,” she said as Jo neared her, “I didn’t mean to screw up your night.”

            Her sister was in tight jeans and a fitted, pretty sleeveless top the color of the sky after a rainstorm, her hair loose and wavy, the silver J pendant Tam had given her for her eighteenth birthday catching a stray light fragment around her neck. She was flushed and smiling, and she shook her head as she turned and settled down on the step beside Jess. “You’re not,” she assured. “What’s up?”

 

- from Fix You



etsy.com

Trellis for Rosewood

Tickets

When she figured it safe, she went around the coffee table and took his seat, gaze falling on the wallet he’d left behind. She told herself she wanted to know his full name in case she ever had to give it to the police – because he had that look about him – but she was gripped with good old fashioned nosiness too, as she picked up the wallet and flipped it open.

There were a half a dozen ten dollar bills and a few ones in the cash sleeve. Two credit cards. A CVS customer card. A ticket stub from an AC/DC concert in ’08. He looked shell-shocked in his license photo, but she couldn’t read his info because the plastic sleeve was scratched and cloudy. She worked a nail beneath and managed to slide the ID out. Tameron Wales, she read before something that had been tucked behind the license went fluttering down to the floor.

She leaned forward and took a corner of it between two fingers. It was a photo, the kind you’d get at a carnival photo booth, of Tam sporting even longer hair and a girl on his lap. She was young, a dirty blonde, with a sweet little pixie face and huge eyes. Both her arms were around Tam’s neck and she smiled up at the booth’s camera as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Delta flipped it over and read the bold, all-caps label handwritten on the back. JOEY 2003. Back to the wallet, she found two more from the same photo booth session inside the license sleeve. Tam was smiling in both pictures, the kind of smile that reached off the paper and told anyone looking at this snapshot of time that he’d been deliriously happy in that booth with that girl, whoever she was.

~ From Better Than You

 

 

 

I got to go to that show. Ticketmaster booted me off twice and I lost my floor seats; ended up sitting in nosebleed and it was still amazing. There's no way Tam missed it. Mike had tickets and he took his bestie.



Rosewood

 

 

 

Rosewood Inn (from Fix You) is a white Victorian with black shutters and wraparound porch, semi-inspired by houses like these: 

Pic found HERE

Pic found HERE

Harry S. Truman's former house; pic found HERE

 

For Jo

Tam scanned all their faces before he allowed himself to latch onto Jo. She was walking side-by-side with Jordan, the two of them talking about something – they’d always been the closest, the “twins” – and Tam fought a smile when he took stock of what she was wearing. Jeans, a tall pair of those leather Dublin boots she’d always talked about wanting, a thin, gray zip up hoodie over a white tank, a baseball cap, her hair streaming loose beneath it. With those big sea-foam eyes of hers, the fair skin, she looked like an Irish native and not a tourist. Like some farm girl he might run across on a rutted dirt road, a slop pail in each hand, mud all over her boots.

 

~ From Keep You



Dublin river boots; photo courtesy SmartPak Equestrian

For Jess

Jess is my most subtle girl to style.  She has definite tastes,
but, they're subdued. This dress (Eliza J at Nordstrom)
would be baby shower/potluck/PTA meeting appropriate.     

(Pre - Fix You)











She definitely doesn't mix patterns. Clean lines with understated accessories. She likes tank dresses, like this one.

 

And date night chic dresses, like this one.

She strives for classic.

Working on Rosewood it's all jeans (original boot cut), cutoffs (boyfit midis: I have a pair and they're the comfiest, best outdoor/barn/reno/yardwork shorts ever), and boots (cause you don't work around nails without serious footwear).

 

 



Characters are people too

There were several reasons why I wanted to write Better Than You, and one reason why I felt I had to. After Keep You was released, I got a little scared. And then a lot scared. It became a case of waiting for someone to slam me for "disapproving" of feminine women. I thought Oh, crap. Someone's going to read about tomboy Jo and think I'm trying to make a statement. And I hated having this thought because the last thing I ever want to do with fiction is make statements about any of the "-isms" in life, if you catch my drift. Because, by the end of Keep You, it becomes apparent that Jo has been quick to judge. And so has Delta. And Better Than You is the flip side of that coin.

In a perfect world, everyone would be sweet and accepting and bear no opinions. But we don't live in a perfect world - far from it; writing characters - real characters and not clipart images with names and rote taglines attached - is about capturing not just one, but all elements of a human. People are snooty. Sometimes characters are snooty. Jo's opinions are Jo's opinions - not mine - and the same goes for Delta. When we're in Jo's head, Delta is the frosty princess, snotty to the last. But in Delta's head, Jo is the snotty one, full of reverse snobbery and looking down her tomboy nose at the pretty girl. It's an unfair mindset on both their parts, but an accurate one, I believe. This happens in real life. Two people so outwardly different need time, and exposure, to see the girl beneath the exterior. They learn; they grow; they're sisters, at the end of the day. And that's what I wanted to explore with the series as a whole: the mosaic nature of families. Siblings are born related, but they aren't necessarily born similar or friendly. Walt and Jess and Mike are all preps - all in very different ways. Walt's serious. Jess is practical. Mike's a doof. Jordie's the jock, and the skinny kid brother, and the sarcastic, removed one. Jo's the baby trying her damndest not to be the baby. Jo envies Jess's grace; Jess envies Jo's don't-give-a-damn. It's messy. And then the spouses get sucked into the equation too, and the friction is heightened.

Okay, I'm rambling. And maybe I'm defending my choices when there's no need to. I've gotta have some faith in reading comprehension, right? But I guess my point is this: I see a lot of complaints from readers (of other books) that literature doesn't supersede the morals of real life, as if it were supposed to. This is impossible to ask. People are opinionated, and so too are characters. Jo and Delta, two polar opposites, are my favorite characters to write. I can like playing the tomboy and I can like glitz too. Each character is a window to a different room of the mind. So, yeah. I just needed to say all that. For reasons.

Frye Melissa Logo boots for Delta. Country Outfitter. I love the old top boot look. If you look at them on the CO site, you can see the detailing on the uppers.

 



Mint Julep earrings by Geranium for Ellie, circa Dream of You. Found these at Country Outfitter; love their stuff.