What inspired you to become an author?
It’s in my bones. There was no inspiration to become one, just a drive throughout my entire life that this was what I wanted to be. My goal chose me at an early age, and everything I’ve planned for in my life has worked around the idea that my end goal was to be a writer. Rather than a restrictive but more stable job, one of the allures of being a massage therapist was the flexibility it allowed—and indeed, it does allow for me to be able to keep a regular writing schedule and get that sort of work accomplished. Every day, I work towards that goal, because it’s a beating in my heart that I just can’t ignore.
Do you have a specific writing style?
I’d say at this point I have certain trademarks to my style. For one, I have a penchant for sassy dialogue, and also for writing feisty characters. Writing passive women is incredibly hard for me, maybe because it’s so foreign from the person I am. As for description, some writers can describe things for hours, delving into the minutiae of surroundings—that’s not me. I feel my way through stories, so more often than not, you’ll get sensory surroundings from my novels and how the characters experience the world around them in the moment. Another thing that works its way into my stories is the grit and nastiness of surroundings. I don’t tend to harp on luxury much, and any beauty I write about usually pertains to natural splendors—all of that comes from my own sensibilities, I think.
How did you come up with the title for your latest book?
The title of the book is hugely symbolic as the story takes place in autumn. Hunting for Spring is all about both protagonists’ search for hope and a better future, which thematically fits the title. One recurring parallel through the story is how Conor equates Brenna with springtime, not only because of the personal growth she’s inspired, but also because of the hope for a better future he sees in her.
Do you title the book first or wait until after it’s complete?
On rare occasion I title the book first, but for the most part, I wait until the book is complete because it’s sometimes hard to see the theme until it’s all done. So a lot of my manuscripts have very rudimentary document titles, like Tuatha De Danaan, Piracy Tale, Airship Story, etc.
Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
In Hunting for Spring, I actually do have a couple unintended messages I’d love to reach others. Conor’s conflicted family drama is a huge issue through the entire thing and I went for a more realistic take on it—I wanted to offer people the reality tempered with hope, because even though you might not be able to change the circumstances or bloodline you’re born into, you can still change your future for the better.
What is your current “work in progress” or upcoming projects?
My current project is a paranormal romance called Night Awakens. It’s got a fiery couple who loves to argue—passionate explosion of irritation and attraction. The setting is Boston, and I decided to take a different spin on the supernatural and create a new creature—these monsters called nightshades. They’re humans who have a different form of Kevlar tough skin and claws, but they have a compulsion to kill the way a vampire needs to feed. Most are sociopathic, but my protagonist, Nasreen happens to be one of the few who has a conscience.
Can you share a little of your current work with us?
After making quick work of my waffle, I dipped my finger in the syrup and met his eyes as I lifted it to my lips. His gaze near burned through me, that intensity all focused my way and his meal long forgotten. Tension crackled between us as fierce as it had the day we’d met. Slowly, I licked and sucked the sticky sweetness off my fingers, one at a time. Though I’d spent a lot of time since that day denying the attraction between us, at the moment it lit up something fierce, and the molten pressure inside me begged to find release.
“Can I get anything else for you?” the waiter’s voice interrupted the moment. I cleaned off my hands with a nearby napkin and offered up my plate. Bless waitstaff and their epic bad timing. I had been half a step away from dragging Darren into the nearest bathroom stall and having my way with him.
“Refill on the coffee?” He handed his mug over, back in control. The overhead light shone down, turning the shaggy strands of his hair molten gold. The second the waiter split, he leaned forward, his hand skating along my forearm to get my attention. “Let’s get back to work. Because, darlin’, if you keep that up, I can’t promise I won’t clear this table and take you right here.” His voice took on a low, huskiness that caused me to shiver.
“Why, Romeo, what elegant words spring from your tongue,” I drawled, fanning myself.
Do you have to travel much to do research for your books?
I don’t necessarily have to, but I do *like* to when I can. I thoroughly enjoy adventuring, and love going to new places and different terrain. Hence why with urban fantasy, I do like picking local cities, since I can easily go check out sections of them. However, when I don’t have the funds or time to travel to the place my story is set in, I use the indispensable Google Maps Street View to view the areas.
Do you have a song or playlist (book soundtrack) that you think represents this book?
Actually, yes! I got addicted to Spotify, and now I tend to make playlists for every story I work on. Since this story was set in Philly and my early experiences around Chinatown involved going dancing at the alternative club (Nocturne nights at Shampoo for any of the locals) most of the songs I listened to were industrial/EBM. Six Underground by Sneaker Pimps is the sort of trip-hop that reminds me of gritty city streets, while Illusion by VNV Nation was perfect for the fragile vulnerabilities Conor and Brenna hid with their tough exteriors. Faster songs like Hooked by Seabound and Deep Red by Apoptygma Berzerk fit the action scenes of the book. If anyone else is a Spotify user, feel free to follow me at kmcintyremt to see all my book playlists!
Hunting for Spring
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Loose Id
Date of Publication: 1/12/16
Word Count: 63,000 words
Cover Artist: Veronica Tibbs
Hunters are a lonely breed, and Conor’s no exception, until the day he meets Brenna. Even though she slinks in unannounced and kills the wight he was hunting down, the girl’s a mystery and he can’t get that blinding smile or those gorgeous curves off his mind.
Since they’re both after the same caster who’s unleashing these monsters, he suggests teaming up, and despite her initial reluctance, the hungry way she scans him down promises something powerful.
However, her secrets have repercussions, and faster than Conor can lift his Glock, he’s drawn into the web of kidnappings and Unseelie mischief, all concealing the machinations of a darker foe—one that plans to bring Philly to ruin.
Available at Loose ID
He took two steps back, quite aware of the presence on the other side of the room. “You know, stealing someone’s kill is bad form,” he complained, cutting through the quiet tension.
“Looked to me like you could use the help.” The female voice came from behind him.
Conor turned around, his hand inching for his Glock.
She sat on the countertop, one leg hanging over the edge. Long strands of dark, messy hair hung past her face, brushing her cheeks as she lifted her chin. The woman had the sort of striking features that made men gape, and Conor fell victim. Her blue eyes intensified with a curious light as she scanned him, and in the shadowy room, her pale skin took on a silver hue. Even though her dark eyebrows knitted together, lending her features a sort of stark fierceness, her pursed mauve lips softened her face.
The girl tugged on the cord of her hoodie, and her eyes narrowed. “What’s a normal kid like you doing hunting a beastie like that?” Her boots hit the ground with a thud, and she brushed her knees off, making the buckles of her cargo pants jangle.
Conor arched his brow, wiping his jacket sleeves on the wall in a sad attempt at getting rid of the wight crud. “Sweetheart, whoever trained you in magic should’ve given you the rundown on everyone you might encounter—including hunters.”
He caught the recognition flashing in her eyes, as well as the careful way she stalked around him like a panther surveying an encroaching predator. “Well, feel free to piss off, then.” Her words were curt but not shocking. Hunters and casters shared a history of bad blood due to the chaos so many irresponsible witches caused. However, one bit of curiosity lingered within him—why had she been tracking the wight? Unless she’d created this monster.
His anger flared at the memory of the wounded dog. At the remains of what used to be a human male lying on the floor, all wreckage from some stupid caster playing around with powers he or she shouldn’t have been.
“Maybe my work’s not done yet.” He leaned against the wall and tugged his hunting knife from his boot. Her entire body tensed in a slight, almost imperceptible way, but the inquisitive look never left her eyes. Without further ado, he began picking under his fingernails with the tip of the knife. “Care to share why you were tracking that wight?”
“Hoping it would lead me to its master.” She shrugged. “You wouldn’t happen to be trailing him too?”
“If finding the source will stop these attacks, I’m joining you.” Conor didn’t leave any room for disagreement in his voice. Casters in a spat could get ugly, and he didn’t want to clean up more of these messes.
“Excuse me?” She placed her hands on her hips, those blue eyes of hers flashing. “From where I stand, you’re not much help.”
Conor tapped the side of his nose. “Unless you happen to have an item of his. You’ll never find a better tracker than a hunter, even with magic.”
A huff slipped from her lips, followed by a frown. “Fine, but the second you try to slip a knife in my back, I’ll torch you faster than those wight remains.”
Conor snorted. “I’m humbled to inspire such faith.” He ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced at the dirt he’d raked through. A rustle came from the door.
She snapped to attention as fast as his hand tightened around the hilt of his knife.
A whine followed by a snuffling sound came from the entryway. Conor squinted as the outside light cast the visitor in shadow.
He relaxed his grip and slid the knife back into his boot.
The small beagle from earlier made its way toward him, limping as it favored its side. Relief flooded through him to see the little guy survived. Even though his father had trained him to shut out emotions since they blinded fast and efficient decision-making, he couldn’t help the occasional indulgence. After all, he didn’t envy his father’s lonely existence. Crouching, he scooped the beagle into his arms, careful not to brush the wounded stump.
“I’m Conor Malone, by the by. If you want my help, we’re going to take a quick side excursion, because this guy needs medical attention and I need to clean up.” The dog whined again when he clutched the shuddering body closer.
She arched an eyebrow. Based on the curl of her lip, she must be more in his father’s camp of anti-emotion. Not like he gave a damn while a dog trembled in his arms. After a minute of stale tension that weighed heavily in the carnage-filled room, she spoke up.
“Fine. We can save your puppy, but if I catch you singing to the woodland critters, I’m out.” At that, she cracked a grin. Not one of those casual tossed-aside ones but a smile that lit her eyes with mischief and illuminated her whole face.
Conor made his way to the door, pausing before he stepped out onto the street. “You never told me your name.”
“And you never asked.” She outpaced him, hopping down the first couple of steps. “You can call me Brenna.”
About the Author:
A modern day Renaissance-woman, Katherine McIntyre has learned soapmaking, beer brewing, tea blending, and most recently roasting coffee. Most of which make sure she’s hydrated and bathed while she spends the rest of her time writing. With a desire to travel and more imagination than she knows what to do with, all the stories jumping around in her head led to the logical route of jotting them down on paper. Not only can her poetry and prose be found in different magazines, but she’s had an array of novels and novellas published through Decadent Publishing, Boroughs Publishing, Hazardous Press, and Jupiter Gardens Press. For more casual content, she’s a regular contributor on CaffeineCrew.com, a geek news website.