Hi. You've probably already noticed that this isn't Charlie. (At least I hope so.) I'm Stina Leicht, and I wrote a couple of books published in the United States. Yeah, yeah. We went over that yesterday, I know. So, hopefully we're past the nasty surprise part of this morning's post.* Just so you know what you're in for: I like smart crime fiction, action films, whiskey, mysteries, fantasy, myth, history, books, music, sf, martial arts, horror, silly romantic comedies, feminist politics (we won't be chatting about that) and cars -- old muscle cars to be exact.
Oh, and I swear a bit. Just so you're forewarned.
When I started writing Of Blood and Honey I knew right away I had a lot of homework to do. My main character is a get-away driver. (Among other things.) Luckily, I've friends who are into rally racing. So, a good friend of mine named Sondra took me to a rally track. She asked her good friend the track owner to use her boyfriend's Porsche and show me the basics of rally racing. The track owner drove slowly at first, explaining as he went. Once I was familiar enough with the track and the basics of rally driving, he warned me that things might get scary and then he let loose. Being a bit of an adrenaline addict, I couldn't do anything but laugh. It was the best thing EVER. When we were done Sondra handed me the keys and said, "Have a great time." Me being me, I couldn't bring myself to go over 50mph. I was terrified I'd wreck it, you see. So, I took it around the track a few times and then tried to hand over the keys. Sondra folded her arms across her chest. "Oh, no you don't. I said drive it. I was watching. You didn't drive," she said. "I don't want to see you back here until you fucking drive that thing." I told her that I'd lived in houses that had cost as much as that car. She still wouldn't take the keys back. "Have you seen Jack drive?" She knew I'd seen him slide off the track into the dirt and up a hill sideways at least once. However, I told her it's Jack's car. He can wreck it if he wants to. I can't replace it. She smiled. "Jack loaned that Porsche to his 16 year-old niece last month, Stina. I promise you won't do anything to it she didn't do already." And with that, I drove and subsequently went home with a grin cemented onto my face that didn't dissolve for two whole days. Did I mention that I have amazing friends?
I have to say, I've been a big fan of Charlie's work since my husband handed me a copy of The Atrocity Archives a few years back. I think he's wonderful. (Charlie, that is. I think we can assume that I think my husband is awesome since he recommends fantastic books--among other things.) And I'm trying very hard right now not to feel as if Mo has just handed me her violin and told me to play a scale. I mean, sure. I've been practicing on my own 'violin' for a while but... damn. That said, I'm hoping we have fun this week. Because I really do want to play the shit out of this thing. How often do you get an opportunity like this?
Because the big bads are only asking for it, you know. ;)
*I'm in Texas. It's still morning here. I'll try to get tomorrow's post up at an appropriate time for the U.K. crowd. Ah, time zones. Sorry about that. I'm a bit nervous, see. Although, we can agree to blame the Texas Goth thing and pretend I don't do mornings. Er... something.