Meet Evelyn Hernandez, protagonist of
The Dream Diaries by Philip Hoy
The Dream Diaries by Philip Hoy
How did you first meet your writer?
My writer discovered me in a short story he wrote a few years ago. I think he sees a little of his daughter in me when she was my age, and apparently, I remind him of some of his students. He’s been teaching for a while though, so which ones exactly, I’m not sure. He gets this knowing look on his face sometimes, which really irritates me, like he already knows what I’m going to do or say before I do or say it. So I admit, I sometimes do the opposite of what he expects…just to remind him I’m my own person.
Did you ever think that your life would end up being in a book?
Yeah, sure…I just didn’t think anyone would want to read it.
What are your favorite scenes in your book: the action, the dialog or the romance?
Really, my favorite scenes are the dialog. I mean, yes, I like to kick ass sometimes, you know, break things, but what’s so difficult about that? Besides, that’s the writer’s job. The dialog, now that’s all me. Except most of time at school it seems like I’m the only one talking, and even then it’s all in my mind, me talking to myself in the privacy of my own head. Maybe that’s why when I do get to have an intelligent conversation with someone I try not to think too much about, you know, just keep it going, like the Gilmore Girls, dialog that’s fast and smart. Am I making any sense?
Did you have a hard time convincing your author to write any particular scenes for you?
To be honest, I think the reason this second book is so fast paced, with so much action, is that my writer is worried that Sammy and I are going to end up having sex if he leaves us alone too much. No, really. I think the idea of me having sex terrifies him more than it does me—it’s not like he has to actually write those parts. And it wouldn’t be his decision anyway!
Do you like the way the book ended?
Hmm…good question. You know, yes. I think I do.
Would you be interested in a sequel, if your writer was so inclined?
Oh, yes. Definitely. I’m only half way through my junior year of high school. I want to keep going!
What is your least favorite characteristic your writer has attributed to you?
He has me cry too much. Not when I’m sad, but when I’m really frustrated or angry, or, you know, terrified for my life. I’m not embarrassed to cry, but I hate it when I do and I feel like I’m being manipulative—when I’m not!
What do you find most appealing in men?
I like a man who is strong, handsome, and smart…like my dad. I don’t mean strong, like physically, although my dad is. He played football in high school and has his own air-conditioning and heating business, so I guess his job can be physical…but I mean strong, like reliable, gentle, self-confident. And smart, like I can talk about anything with my dad, forever. Sammy is like that, strong and smart…and handsome. My dad is dad-handsome, of course, but Sammy is delicious handsome. When he’s walking toward me from the other end of the hallway at school. When I just want to breathe him in sometimes, or touch him…with my hands, yes, but even just to press the side of my arm, or leg against his when we’re sitting together at lunch…that kind of handsome.
Do you believe in ghosts/evil spirits/mysticism?
Is this a trick question? Okay, maybe you haven’t heard what people say about me. That I’m a witch. That I can make bad things happen to people I don’t like. Well…it’s kind of true. Does it have anything to do with ghosts or evil spirits or mysticism? I honestly don’t know. A month ago I would have said I believed in the power of the mind more than magic, that people believe what they want to believe and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or does. A month ago, I would have probably quoted from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.” But lately, I’m not so sure. Maybe a better quote from Hamlet would be, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Yes, I think I’ll stick with that for now.
Would you ever use a voodoo doll to hurt anyone?
I kind of already have, and more than once. Not with a doll exactly, but a similar concept using paper and a pencil.
Evelyn, thank you so much for being patient and answering her questions today!! Please come back again soon !!
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The Dream Diaries
Evelyn Hernandez Series, Book 2
Contemporary/Romance/Suspense/Interracial (paranormal elements)
Evernight Teen Publishing, Word count: 45K
The rumor at school is that after the varsity quarterback broke her heart, Evelyn Hernandez broke his hand. Then she demolished his car, beat up his girlfriend, and smashed all the windows in his house—or so the story goes. Some say that under the long hair and blunt cut bangs, beneath the cute dresses and colorful tights, and behind the pretty face and big brown eyes … hides a black-hearted, spell-casting, evil witch.
Only Evelyn doesn’t care what people at school say, or think. She couldn’t be happier. Her bullies have been brought to justice, her parents trust her, and she has a boyfriend who adores her. She’s even returned to drawing in her journal … but that’s when the nightmares begin.
Evelyn believes her violent dreams are messages from the future. Something terrible is going to happen at her school and only she can stop it—but how, and at what price?
Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/Dream-Diaries-Evelyn-Hernandez-Book-ebook/dp/B01FWVVFGY?ie=UTF8&keywords=The%20Dream%20Diaries&qid=1464008997&ref_=sr_1_10&sr=8-10
All Romance Ebooks - https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thedreamdiaries-2043614-168.html
Evernight Teen Publishing - http://www.evernightteen.com/the-dream-diaries-by-philip-hoy/
16+ due to sexuality, language, and adult situations
“I’ll be right back,” Karen said over her shoulder as she stepped out into the cold night. She set the bulging bag of trash down long enough to close the door behind her and then hefted it again in both hands and began walking awkwardly with it down the stairs. Her sandals slapped loudly against the bottoms of her feet and the unwelcome odor of chicken bones and baby diapers wafted upwards with each waddling step.
At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and looked around self-consciously, but the apartment complex was strangely quiet this late in the evening, with most of the windows around her already dark and not another person in sight. She tightened her grip on the neck of the garbage bag and started walking again. The dumpsters were just around the back of her building at the end of the parking lot, but in the dim light of the yellow security lamps they looked much farther. It was colder outside than she expected and Karen regretted not putting on a sweater before leaving the apartment.
A brick wall surrounded the trash bins with large metal gates in the front that were kept locked, but there was a smaller walk-in opening around the back. What if someone was in there, she thought, or something … doing who knows what? Rather than step a foot inside, Karen was tempted to just heave the bag over the wall and hope the lids were up. But the thought of her nephew’s shitty diapers strewn across the parking lot, along with the junk mail and old homework with her name on it, stopped her, and she took a breath and walked inside.
She was relieved to find the lid on the nearest bin was already thrown back, which meant she wouldn’t have to touch anything. She lifted with one hand at the top and the other pushing from below until the weight of the bag rested on the dumpster’s edge, then she pushed it over and let it fall with a muffled splat.
When she turned to leave, a figure was standing in the opening, blocking her way.
“Who’s there?” she shouted, taking a step back.
“Hey, hey,” the figure quickly reassured, slowly moving forward and lowering his raspy voice as he spoke. “Don’t be ascared, girl. We’re not gonna hurt you.”
“Spider?” Karen recognized his bug-eyed, boney face, but she hadn’t seen him at school in over a year. She heard he was locked up.
“Orale!” he said, looking back. “See, Creeper? I told you this heina was down.”
A second figure stepped out of the shadows behind Spider, filling the entryway and smiling nervously at Karen.
“Hey, Creeper,” Karen said, smiling and suddenly walking past Spider toward him. “Why you up so late?” she asked, as if they were old friends. “Don’t you have homework or something?”
Most likely confused by the friendliness of her greeting, he shuffled back a step, clearing the doorway just as Karen hoped he would, and she bolted for the opening.
Spider was faster and grabbed her from behind. She tried to scream, but his hand was already covering her mouth.
Philip Hoy is a high school English teacher by day and a short-story author, novelist, and poet by night. When he is not creating lesson plans or grading essays, he is writing. He lives in Southern California with his wife Magdalena, also a teacher.
Giveaway: $10 Evernight Teen gift card