Showing posts with label Christine Potter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christine Potter. Show all posts

Sunday, July 31, 2016

Hero Character Interview: Zak Grant from IN HER OWN TIME by Christine Potter @Chrispygal @evernightteen #giveaway #romance #Timetravel




Today we had the pleasure of interviewing Zak Grant, 
Bean Donohue’s artist-gonna-be boyfriend.  He’s 16.



How did you first meet your writer?  


I met her first in Time Runs Away With Her, the first book in my girlfriend Bean’s time travel series.  It happened around the same time I first noticed Bean in the hall at school.  That head of red hair Bean has—it’s like a flame. I love drawing it. Bizarre that was what got me stuck in a book!


Did you ever think that your life would end up being in a book?


Well, I’m going to be an artist, so I think it’s pretty cool I’m getting written about.  Maybe it’ll help me get gigs later on.  My mom doesn’t have bucks, so I need to look good to colleges and get a scholarship to art school.  Don’t want to get drafted and end up in Vietnam!



What are your favorite scenes in your book: the action, the dialog or the romance?


I like being alone with my woman, for sure!  The action all happens to her in this book—although I’d sure liked to have seen some of that American Revolution stuff.  It freaked her out, though.  She doesn’t like talking about it. 


Do you infiltrate your writer’s dreams?


It would be bizarre if I didn’t!  I mean, I’m very high quality stuff! Check it out!


What do you like to do when you are not being actively read somewhere?


I hang out with Bean and hope she doesn’t disappear into the past.  And I do life drawing classes.  There are actual naked ladies in those things, but Bean doesn’t get jealous.  She shouldn’t, anyway.  She’s much more gorgeous than the models.


Do you like the way the book ended?


Well, I don’t want to spoil it for anyone, but the ending’s really cool—and also sad.  And there’s that thing with Bean’s mom…yeah, it’s a good ending.


Would you be interested in a sequel, if your writer was so inclined?


You know, I think I need to think about whether the sequel would get me into art school.  Seriously, there’s a draft on, and like I said, I’m not going to ‘Nam, no way.


What is your least favorite characteristic your writer has attributed to you?


First of all, I don’t throw that much water around when I wash dishes.  I think it’s right on and fair to the women folks that I wash dishes.  And I don’t say “bizarre” anywhere near as much as my writers says. It’s bizarre how much she says I say “bizarre!”


What is your greatest fear?


I’m afraid of ending up in Vietnam!  I’m for peace, even though I wish Bean would tell me more about 1779.  And I’m afraid that one of those times Bean disappears into the past that she’ll get stuck there. 


What do you think your greatest weakness is?


I used to worry that I was kind of a wuss.  You know, ‘cause I like peace and I was the first guy in my class with long hair.   You know what’s bizarre?  Now I don’t think that’s a weakness anymore.


What’s your favorite thing to do on a rainy Sunday?


I like to put on the Dead and spread!  That sounds gross—maybe I better put it in other words.  I enjoy visiting with my charming and talented woman while listening to the music of Jerry Garcia and The Grateful Dead.  There.  That sounds better.


What word makes you the happiest?


Love.  Love is what’s going to save us.


What is your least favorite word?


War.  I hate war.  I really do.


What turns you on?


Everything, I guess.  Bean.  Drawing.  Music.  The world.  Bean the most, I guess.


What would you not like to do?


I don’t want to be normal.  I want to be who I am.  I want to live a long life and be 80 and still be an artist.  I don’t want to have a job in a tall gray building in New York City.


Do you believe in ghosts/evil spirits/mysticism? Would you spend the night in a remote haunted house?


Of course!  My girlfriend disappears into the past and comes back and tells me about it.  I think that everything that ever happened is still happening, and time is just there to keep us from bumping into each other.  Once you believe that, there’s no such thing as a haunted house.


How do you react when people sing “Happy Birthday” to you in a restaurant?


People sing “Happy Birthday” in restaurants?  That’s bizarre!


What do you admire about your parents?


I admire my mom for hanging tough when Dad realized he was gay and they broke up.  She doesn’t have a lot of money, but she’s done a great job raising me and my little brother.  And I admire my Dad for having the guts to do what he did.  It’s bizarre—everything really does come back to love in the end, doesn’t it?  

I sure believe it does come back to Love myself :)  Zak, thanks again for visiting with us today !!!!  We'd love for you to come back and visit again if you get that sequel !

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In Her Own Time
The Bean Books, #2

by Christine Potter

Romance/Time Travel/Suspense
63K, Evernight Teen Publishing

Summer 1970: Bean Donohue’s sixteen, she’s finally got a good band together, and she’s crazy in love with her artist boyfriend Zak. 

She’s also about to get the coolest summer job ever, and her impossible mom’s conveniently out of town.  

So why does she keep ending up in 1953…or 1779?  And who's that guy with the black ponytail and the Kent State t-shirt?  
He knows way too much about her.  Should Zak be worried—or should Bean?

Buy Links:    Evernight Teen    Amazon    ARe


14+ due to sexuality and adult situations
 Excerpt:
Bean found herself alone, just outside the house. The air was sharp. Tall trees that had just been in full summer leaf were suddenly bare, and smaller than they’d been seconds before. Bean tried to peer back in through the kitchen window, but the lights were off, and she couldn't see anything. She stood in her side yard, sometime in the past. It was happening again…
And It was enough of a shock that she didn’t even know how she felt. She’d been glowing from the night before with Zak, happy to have had Sam pound on her door with music and laughter. Bean stuck her hands in the pockets of her thin blue cotton robe, and looked up. The sky looked like early afternoon: pale sunlight behind a thin, high layer of clouds. In front of her house, underneath the living room windows stood three overgrown barberry bushes. Bean had never seen them before. The ground was hard and cold, and she was barefoot.
Alrighty, thenDamn it. Lately, Bean had been perfectly fine with life in 1970. What year is this supposed to be? She had no idea.
Zak said love is always why this happens, she thought. But then she felt the happiness beginning to leak out of her. If Zak were right, why had she slipped backwards just now? She had a whole June weekend to spend with him, feeling nothing but love…and now, this.
It made no sense. All she could do was watch, deal, and try to keep warm.
It really was pretty chilly. She tried jogging in place to warm up, which helped a bit. Her toes were soon numb, though.  After a few minutes, a black car with big, round bumpers pulled into the driveway and clattered to a halt. There was the rasp of an emergency brake being set.  And Beans father—very young, and too thin for his thick, grey winter coat—got out of the drivers side. Bean put a hand over her mouth, and watched as he ran urgently around to the passengers door. He yanked it open.
“Can you make it?” Bean’s dad called into the car.
“Of course I can make it,” said her mothers voice. A high-heeled shoe and a nylon stocking-covered leg emerged. Then came the rest of Bean’s mom, wearing a brown tweed overcoat and a floppy green beret. She walked a bit unsteadily, clutching a bundle of white blankets wrapped around a baby, which began to wail.
“Sh-sh. Sh-sh-sh,” said Julia as she wobbled up the walk. She stopped when she got to the front door.
“You wouldn’t happen to have remembered the house keys, would you, Tom?” she called. Tom patted down three pockets in his coat before something jingled. He rushed a key into the lock. Then he looked back at the car. Both its front doors now stood wide open, and he sprinted back down the walk toward them. Bean sucked in her breath hard, taking it all in. Was that her days-old self,crying, inside the house? Sixteen-year-old Bean felt a little weepy, too.  It’s 1953, then, she thought. Just after my actual birthday. Wow…
The wind blew and she shivered.
 And then there was a hand on her arm. 




Book 1 in The Bean Books series
is now available:
Time Runs Away With Her



About the Author:
Christine Potter lives in a small town not far from the setting of Time Runs Away With Her, near the mighty Hudson River, in a very old (1740) house with two ghosts.  According to a local ghost investigator, they are harmless, “just very old spirits who don’t want to leave.”  She doesn’t want them to.

Christine’s house contains two pipe organs (her husband is a choir director/organist), two spoiled tom cats, and too many books.  She’s also a poet, and the author of two collections of verse, Zero Degrees at First Light, and Sheltering in Place. Christine taught English and Creative Writing for years in the Clarkstown Schools.  She DJ’s free form rock and roll weekly on Area24radio.com, and plays guitar, dulcimer, and tower chimes.


Twitter: @chrispygal

*  *  *
Giveaway:


$10 Evernight Teen GC and an ebook copy
Please leave your answer to thee questions in the comments :)


1. Suppose you were my main character, Bean.  What time period would you like to be swept back into--and why?

2. These books believe in ghosts.  Do you?  Ever seen one?


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Guest Interview with the HERO from Time Runs Away With Her by Christine Potter





Please welcome the hero, Zak Grant, 

from Time Runs Away with Her



How did you first meet your writer?
She was thinking about her old high school boyfriend—the one who liked The Grateful Dead and Zappa so much.  Guy had some taste in music, but he was kind of a lump.  You gotta want to do something in this bad old world!  And his politics sucked, just by the way.

Did you ever think that your life would end up being in a book?
Why wouldn’t it?  My life has been…bizarre! 

What are your favorite scenes in your book: the action, the dialog or the romance?
Well, my writer didn’t describe MY favorite scene, only the next morning with Bean’s mom away at that convention. I swear I wasn’t sleeping that hard.  I guess it’s OK, though. Bean would have been embarrassed.  And that woman of mine’s been through a lot lately, you know?

Do you infiltrate your writer’s dreams?
I only infiltrate MY WOMAN’s dreams.
What do you like to do when you are not being actively read somewhere?
I draw and hang out with Bean.  And I take care of my Rapidographs. Those things jam if you use the wrong ink.  Gotta get the portfolio together for art school apps next year.  But I’d be drawing anyway.  You know what?  You have interesting hair.  Mind if I just grab the pad here?  Go stand over there by the window. 

Are you happy with the genre your writer has placed you in?
I defy genre!  True bizarre-ness does, you know.  But I guess I can live with where I am.

If you could rewrite anything in your book, what would it be?
I’d like to rewrite that douche-bag Blair somewhere a long way from here, for good.  Scholar-athlete—right.  But maybe he made that revision himself.  Hard to say. 

Do you like the way the book ended?
Wait a minute.  I have to turn over the record…or would you rather hear Anthem of the Sun? Oh—the ending?  I’d be dumb not to.

Would you be interested in a sequel, if your writer was so inclined?
If it was… bizarre!

What is your least favorite characteristic your writer has attributed to you?
I don’t say “bizarre” nearly as much as she says I do.

Do have any secret aspirations that your author doesn’t know about?
I know they’re all straight and stuff, but I’d like to get a cartoon in The New Yorker.  I started looking at it after Bean’s mom made that crack about Cousin It.  Charles Addams is alright, much cooler than the TV show.

What do you do for a living?
Nothing yet.  I’m trying not to get drafted and to get into art school, mostly.

What is your greatest fear?
Getting drafted and going to ‘Nam.  It’s not ‘cause I’m a wimp or anything.  War is wrong.

What do you wear when you go to sleep?
Whatever becomes a legend most.  Nah—underpants.

What is your most prized possession?
My Rapidographs.  All of them.  I can’t pick just one.

Who was your first girlfriend/boyfriend and what do you like most about them?
Bean.  She’s a cosmic woman!

Did you have a pet as a child?  What happened to it?  How did you feel about that?
My kid brother Eddie had a turtle named The Grinch.  I don’t even want to know what happened to it.  Maybe he drowned it in his Lucky Charms or something.  What a way to go!  It was around the time my dad split.

What do you think your greatest weakness is?
Sometimes I think it’s that I don’t like to fight.  But sometimes I think that’s the best thing about me.

What are you proudest of?
My art.

What embarrasses you?
Nothing.  You can’t embarrass me.  Dare you.

What is something no one knows about you?  Why do you keep it a secret?  And what would happen if everyone found out about it?
No one knows my girlfriend is a time traveler—well, except for her best friend and Sam and Father Tollman—oh, and that asshole Blair.  You can’t just go around telling people that your girlfriend dematerializes and shows up in the freaking 19th century.  If people heard me saying that they’d think I’m even more bizarre than I am, and not in a good way.  That I could deal with, but if they said anything bad about Bean, I don’t know what I’d do.  She’s been through enough.

What do you find most appealing in men/women?
I like people who make music and art.

What do you find most unappealing in men/women?
I really hate bullies.
What do you like most about where you live?
Stormkill’s right on the Hudson River.  It’s full of great old houses and cool stuff to draw.  The River’s really beautiful.  If you watch the River for half an hour, you see every color there is.  Plus you can get a train into The City easy and go to The Fillmore.

What’s your favorite thing to do on a rainy Sunday?
Put on The Dead and spread!

What word makes you the happiest?
Love.

What is your least favorite word?
Earwax.

What other profession would you like to try?
I think if I couldn’t make enough money doing art, I might like to teach it.  Show little kids the pen and ink, you know?  But not for a while.  I want to try really doing it first.
What would you not like to do?
Hurt anyone.  Even Blair, really.  Even though it’s tempting. 

Do you believe in ghosts/evil spirits/mysticism? Would you spend the night in a remote haunted house?
I kind of have to--being as my girlfriend is a time traveler, you know.  Ghosts don’t scare me.  I just worry about Bean getting stuck in 1945 or something.

What is your most favorite memory?
The first time I walked Bean to her locker and I saw she had a drawing of mine taped up inside it.  That and the first Christmas Mom and Eddie and I were in Stormkill.

If you knew a zombie apocalypse was coming in one week, what would you do?
The zombie apocalypse?  That’s bizarre.  Zombies? I think it’s gonna be the Bomb unless we get together and do something about it.  And I don’t know whether I’d take off with Bean somewhere if there were only a week—or go down protesting and trying to stop it.

Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo, what would it be and where? If not, what if you had to?
Tattoos are kinda…I don’t know.  I’ve seen some really cool ones, but I’d be afraid I’d get sick of the same thing all the time.  I’d rather make up a really good fake one that washed off.

What do you admire about your parents?
They weren’t afraid to do what they wanted—either of them.  It’s not easy for either of them alone, and their lives weren’t what they’d planned. 

What’s the worst/weirdest thing you did as a kid?
I was a jerk to my mom for a while after Dad left.  But that’s over. 

Thanks again for visiting with us today !!!!
Any time.  Here’s your picture.  Bizarre, huh?

*   *   *   *   *


Time Runs Away with Her
Christine Potter
Time Travel Romantic Suspense, 74k

It’s not easy being Bean. Bean Donohue lives for her guitar, but her mom threw her out of the house during a snowstorm for singing. No way she’s going to get permission to go see The Grateful Dead at the Fillmore East. 


Zak, her almost-boyfriend, will get drafted if he doesn’t get into art school, pot makes Bean paranoid, and her best friend can’t stop talking about sex. 1970’s not for wimps—but neither was 1885...or 1945. So why does Bean keep sliding backwards in time?


Buy Links:   Evernight Teen    Amazon



Excerpt:
Although it was cooler than it had been upstairs, the night was still close, and the heat had made Bean slow and sleepy. I could wring out my hair like a dishrag, and it would dribble on the floor. The party swirled around her: ladies in rustling dresses of blue and yellow, gentlemen in evening jackets laughing together.  
At the other end of the room was a cut crystal bowl, full of what looked like iced tea. Bean felt like she could dive into it. Standing in a circle around the punch bowl were a few more men in evening jackets.
How can you even think of wearing a jacket in this weather? She wandered over to the punch, which smelled wickedly alcoholic, like the bottle of rum Juuulia bought to make eggnog every Christmas. If she picked up one of the tiny glass cups next to the bowl and ladled punch into it, would it seem to those men in their stifling evening wear as if the glass were filling itself? That was kind of amusing, actually, but probably not a great idea. Besides, the stuff smelled like it would make you more thirsty, not less.  
Maple leaves outside rustled again in the breeze, and the breeze offered no relief. She thought about Zak, and wondered if she’d be too miserable and sweaty to hug him right then, if he were with her. Which, of course, he was not. She thought about her room at home, her all-year Christmas lights, her guitar. She closed her eyes and tried to will herself back.
Nothing happened.  
Outside, in the garden, Edwina laughed again. What a wonderful laugh she had! It sounded like it came straight from her belly, like she wasn’t afraid of being un-ladylike. Was she the one who had been crying on Bean’s last trip to this time and place? It certainly seemed like the same evening: the party, the Japanese lanterns, the night’s humid breeze...



Author Bio:
Christine Potter lives in a small town not far from the setting of Time Runs Away With Her, near the mighty Hudson River, in a very old (1740) house with two ghosts.  According to a local ghost investigator, the ghosts are harmless, “just very old spirits who don’t want to leave.” She doesn’t want them to.
Christine’s house contains two pipe organs (her husband is a choir director/organist), two spoiled tom cats, and too many books.  She’s also a poet, and the author of two collections of verse, Zero Degrees at First Light, and Sheltering in Place.  Christine taught English and Creative Writing for years in the Clarkstown Schools.  She DJ’s free form rock and roll weekly on Area24radio.com, and plays guitar, dulcimer, and tower chimes. 


Facebook book page for Time Runs Away: * https://www.facebook.com/beanstravels?fref=ts
Twitter: @chrispygal

Giveaway:
a Rafflecopter giveaway