***Thank you for coming to chat with us today. Why do you think Vera Jane choose you to represent her?

She knows my observations are based on instinct and a very keen perception of people.

***Tell us a little about yourself?

I am a cat named Spider. I live in a little Eye-brow Colonial on Lilac Lane in Chanaakya. We face the river, which Bessie loves. She talks to the river, when there’s a storm though she fears it and shuts the shades.

***What is your birth date?

9 x9 years ago I was born, March maybe, it was cold.

***What do you wish people would know about you?

I can speak to the Gods, especially the one of rain.

***What music do you listen too?

Wind and River music. Is there any other kind?

***What is your perfect evening?

I like being in my favorite chair by the fire. Sometimes I’m on Bessie’s lap and she strokes me. I like that.

***What do you do to relax?

Watch rabbits break into Bessie’s herb garden.

***Is there anything you wish Vera Jane Cook had kept her mount shut about?

Yes, I do not have a pudgy tummy that falls to the floor. I am sleek and still beautiful, though I’ve been around a while. Any dialogue about me should reflect my still trim and handsome form.

***Do you feel you were portrayed fairly?

Yes, I had my own voice, how many cats can say that?

***What really pushes your buttons?

Hummingbirds I can’t catch

***What’s you biggest turn ons?

Kibbles that look like fish

***What are your biggest Turn offs?

Dogs who run amuck in my back yard.

***What’s your perfect day?

I like Apollo’s reign, when the sun is out, but he’s a fickle God. Thunder thrills me, much more passion to it.

***What’s your favorite Ice cream flavor, Chocolate, Vanilla, or Strawberry?

Just plain milk will do, ice cream is too hard to slurp.

***Do you believe in ghosts?

Of course, I see them down by the river.

***What is your biggest fear?

Bessie will plug up all the holes in our house and the mice won’t get in.

***Why should the readers be interested in your story?

Well, it’s not really my story, its Bessie’s. If it were mine I’d tell you how she found me under a car and took me home when my eyes were barely open, and even though she didn’t look like my mother, I was sure she was. If it were my story you’d hear how I had to put up with Bessie’s dog Halo, how he bit my tail and wouldn’t share the pillow. Well, if it were my story you’d hear how Lily brings me kibble and Richard overfeeds me and Chauncey’s voice always soothed me, and how my favorite word is melancholy, which Chauncey taught me. If it were my story you’d be aware that I always know when it’s going to rain. You’d know too that Davey owes me back scratches and belly rubs and I always know what’s in Bessie’s heart, which is always open, even when she thinks it’s not. But like I said, it’s not really my story.

Vera Jane Cook’s first published novel, Dancing Backward in Paradise, won the Eric Hoffer award for publishing excellence, 2007, and the Indie Excellence award for notable new fiction, 2007. The Story of Sassy Sweetwater, her second southern fiction novel, was released on January 20^th. Lies a River Deep was released on March 2nd, both by Musa Publishing.

Thank you for coming to chat with us today. Why do you think Vera Jane Cook chose you to represent her? Because Sassy doesn’t like the limelight. Actually, I don’t either but Seth is too shy, Dudley is long gone and El can’t be trusted. So it’s me, like it or not.

Tell us a little about yourself? I can’t say I never killed anyone but I can say it was always the right one.

What is your birth date? Well, let’s put it this way, when I was born motion pictures had just learned to talk.

Where do you live? What is it about that area that drew you there? I inherited all the land of Carter’s Crossing. I’m a Carter. Inherited the house too. Luckily the Yankees didn’t burn it when Sherman marched his men through my state and my grandfather took buckshot from a Union officer.

What do you wish people would know about you? I don’t like anyone knowing anything about me, adds an air of mystery.

What music do you listen too? It certainly isn’t rock and roll.

Will we be seeing more of you or are you stepping out of the lime light? As long as Sassy needs me, I’m not going anywhere.

Where have we seen you before? Well, it wasn’t on the cover of Vogue.  Maybe in Beaufort, buying China?

What is your perfect evening? Sitting on my porch, in my rocker, under the stars.

What do you do to relax? I take a hot bath.

Is there anything you wish Vera Jane had kept her mouth shut about? Funny you should ask me that, let’s start with incest? Murder? Revenge? Infidelity? I mean, those things are not proper to discuss, novel or not.

Do you feel you were portrayed fairly? Well, no, not in the beginning. Later maybe. I did mellow.

Tell us about what drew you to him/her? The only man I ever loved was a bastard, what else do you want to know?

What really pushes your buttons? Questions like this.

What’s your favorite sports team? Oh, come on. I’d rather watch bees build a hive.

What’s you biggest turn ons? I hope you don’t mean sexually? I can’t seem to remember.

What are your biggest Turn offs? Hairy legged men in shorts.

What’s your perfect day? Why? I like sunshine because the world is made right. Rain whispers the threat of transition. Snow brings too much memory of regret. Sunshine is sweet, can’t get enough of its kisses.

What your favorite Ice cream flavor, Chocolate, Vanilla, or Strawberry? What’s the matter with butter pecan?

Do you believe in ghosts? Of course I do, got a cat haunting my bedroom.

What is your biggest fear? Dying.

Why should the readers be interested in your story? It’s the story of Sassy, my dear granddaughter. She didn’t have it easy, she bled, perhaps, too much, but when the healing came, she triumphed. Readers should be interested in getting what you want no matter how long it takes, and living long enough to begin anew.

Happy Reading, I hope you enjoy my book.

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When I was very young, maybe around eight years old, I can very clearly remember asking my mother what side of the Civil War we had fought on. For certainly I had ancestors in the Civil War, didn’t I? I have no idea where this question came from, maybe from a history class? Maybe I’d been dragged to the movies to see Gone With the Wind. I do remember how they used to bring the film back and show it every few years at a large theater on Times Square. I loved the movie and maybe I’d made a connection that my own ancestors had lived at Tara, all looked like Vivian Leigh and had been gallant soldiers.

My mother looked absolutely horrified when I posed that question. She told me I had absolutely no ties to the Civil War.

“You come from a long line of Canadians,” she said. “Your other half is Irish. Everyone was fresh off the boat.”

Okay. I accepted this and thought nothing more about it. But many years later, long after my mother had passed away, I began to write books. My first novel was loosely based on my own family. As I researched I discovered that my maternal grandfather had been named after a Civil War General, Wade Hampton. Curious. But I surmised that my Canadian great-grandfather must have married a Southern woman who had a brother or father that served under Wade Hampton, and thus, the name.

Before I even finished my first novel I jumped into southern fiction. I was born and raised in New York City but here I was, following my strong affinity for the south. I felt an enormous genetic pull. I felt as if I were channeling these southern characters. They were in my blood and my bones, and if you’ll pardon, my very soul.

My mother died in 1976 so I couldn’t press her for answers. However, I became obsessed with Ancestry.com and did a thorough search. I soon learned that I am a direct descendent of Hardy Ray, who named his son (my grandfather) after the general he served in the confederate army. My southern ancestors go back generations. They had a farm in South Carolina. They kept slaves.

Then I got it. I looked back on that day when I had asked my mother what side we’d fought on. Someone else had been in the room. I can still see her there. Her name was Alice and she was a kind, southern Black lady who took care of me. In the 1950s, I was living the Northern example of the novel: The Help. My mother loved Alice, as did I, and she never would have allowed her to know that our family had been Confederates. We had been on the wrong side of the war. There was a kind of shame to it.

I love to write southern fiction. It’s in my soul, like I said. But I’m awfully glad Alice never knew that my own great grandfather had slaves, and would have died to keep them.

Vera Jane Cook’s first published novel, Dancing Backward in Paradise, (southern fiction) won the Eric Hoffer award for publishing excellence, 2007, and the Indie Excellence award for notable new fiction.  The Story of Sassy Sweetwater was released on January 20, 2012 and is available at Amazon.com and at Musa Publishing.

I had moved into a small residence in Brooklyn Heights. It was my first year of teaching. The block was very attractive, lots of trees and old Brownstone buildings. In the winter, I could smell the fireplaces as I walked home. I’ve always loved the smell of burning wood. It reminds me of comfort and security. It also reminds me of red wine and classical music. I was quite happy back then, evenings by the fire with Chianti and Shubert. Days, I was lucky enough to be pontificating on Greek and Roman Mythology in the Classics department of Brooklyn College, to an enthusiastic group of undergraduates. If I had to describe my life that year, I would say it was somewhere between Norman Rockwell, the illustrator and Woody Allen, the filmmaker.  

What I mean to say is that I was young and innocent, finding my way in the world of love and friendship. There is nothing about me that is at all out of the ordinary, but my students liked me, which made me less than pompous. You might notice me in a crowd, with my Farrah Fawcett overbite and my Tilda Swinton androgyny. Then again, you might not. But I was indifferent to flattery and bored by the ordinary. Perhaps that is why unusual things happened to me.

I had an old, faded, yellow Volkswagen in those days. It got me out to the end of Flatbush Avenue, and if I was lucky, I could park within two blocks of the Classics Department. I had moved to Brooklyn from Miami so I didn’t have many friends, at first. But being young and somewhat attractive, my loneliness was not meant to last. It was not long before I had a best friend. Her name was Elizabeth and she had enrolled in my fifth century class on Rome as an adult non-matriculating student. No one I had met thus far interested me as much.

 “Fifth century Rome? I have been there,” she said. “Interesting times.”

 I thought I had heard her incorrectly. “The fifth century? You’ve been there?”

 “Yes.”

 “I see.”

 I dismissed it. That could not be at all what she meant.

  Well, as winter turned to spring and spring into summer, Elizabeth and I got to know each other. I found her tales of time travel amusing, but of course, did not believe her farfetched fantasies. I humored her. I liked her very much, though I thought her a bit odd, and I was not shy to tell her that either. When she invited me to her mother- in- law’s garden for lemonade I was curious to accept, for she had told me that her mother- in- law was even odder than she was.

“You write, do you not?” she asked as we paused at her mother- in- law’s front door.

“Well, yes,” I said.

“Annabel Horton would like her tale told,” she said.

I’m sure I looked surprised but in all honesty, I thought little of it.

“Annabel Horton? My mother- in- law?” She appeared to be somewhat annoyed at me for not retaining that information. “She awaits us in the garden.”

“I look forward to meeting her,” I responded.

I was soon to learn that Annabel Horton must surely have invented the word ‘odd’, the word ‘strange’ and the word ‘aberrant’; and she was about on par with Elizabeth when it came to eccentricity.

Despite that, I was intrigued. I was a writer, or at least trying to be. At the time, I was writing a novel about a dysfunctional southern family, much like my own. That summer, I shared many glasses of white wine with Annabel under the shade of a magnificent Oak tree and read her chapters from my book. Maybe that is what bonded us to one another, my writing made her weep, but more importantly, it made her laugh.

“It is harder to make someone laugh than it is to make them cry,” she said.

I agreed. I knew somehow that we were kindred spirits. So I shared with her, that once, when I was a child, I saw a ghost. Annabel was later to tell me that I didn’t see a ghost at all; I saw shadows of time from which life still lingers.

That was something to ponder over, but nothing, of course, to take to heart, or so I thought before…well, before I got to know her better.

One evening, she quite unexpectedly blurted out: light is not the same to me as it is to you.

Elizabeth had joined us that evening and I noticed she was nodding her head.

I smiled, thinking perhaps, that Annabel was a bit myopic.

On another evening, we were alone, Annabel and I. Outside an intimidating storm was raging.

“Come with me,” she said. “We can build a fire.”

 She led me into her study. The room was impressive and filled with books.

“There are chambers here,” she said. “They connect time.”

It was then I began to search my mind with an excuse to flee, but she took my hand so quickly.

“So, you like the fifth century?” she asked.

I merely stared at her.

“Rome is beautiful now, though terrifying. Greece may be better.”

I don’t know why I let her lead me through the chamber, but I did, like an innocent lamb. I’ve always had an interest in the paranormal, the occult; and you must understand, I trusted her. Oh, I remember the darkness and the noise, echoes of sound I could not decipher. It came at me right away, consumed me, actually. I remember falling and landing on my feet after a long time, maybe hours, maybe days.

“Will this do?” she said.

I wondered if I had been struck dead. I was staring at the Acropolis, but it was not a relic. It was majestic. It was neoteric.

“Where am I?” I whispered in astonishment.

“Greece,” she said. “Now, down to business.”

She led me off, to an enclave some yards away from where we’d landed.

“They will kill us if they see us. We are not dressed properly. We cannot even pass ourselves off as men in these clothes.” She hid me behind an Olive Tree, whose impressive branches seemed to enfold us.

She handed me a pad and a pen once we were settled and hidden from the people who milled about.

“I am Patience Annabel Horton but I was called by my middle name………..” she began, making herself comfortable on the grass.

I looked at her, not quite sure of what had happened to me. I looked back at the Acropolis.

“Are you getting this?” she asked.

I stared at her in disbelief. How could she be Elizabeth’s mother- in -law, she’s merely a girl, no more than eighteen. I stared at her as if I had never seen her before.

“Write,” she commanded.

How could I be here in fifth century Greece? I stood to my feet and peered beyond the branches of the tree.

She rose quickly and pulled me back. “Time enough for that,” she said. “Now write down all that I tell you.”  

And so I did.

 Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem: http://www.musapublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=11&products_id=107

Amazon link: http://www.amazon.com/Annabel-Horton-Witch-Salem-ebook/dp/B006PIYOXA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1325794596&sr=1-1#_

 Vera Jane Cook’s first published novel, Dancing Backward in Paradise, won the Eric Hoffer award for publishing excellence, 2007, and the Indie Excellence award for notable new fiction, 2007. Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem, is her first paranormal fiction. It will be followed by Annabel Horton and the Black Witch of Pau, and Annabel Horton and the Devil of Loudon. The Story of Sassy Sweetwater, her second southern fiction novel, will be released on January 20^th.

This week, we’re delving into the paranormal. There’s nothing I love more than a book about witches and ghosts, especially when it’s tied to historical fact. Fellow Musa author, Vera Jane Cook, has joined us to talk about her newly released novel, Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem. Vera Jane reveals some spooky co-incidences about her book and Annabel Horton’s name in her interview. It’s fascinating.

About Vera Jane Cook

By day I work as an academic consultant for an education publishing company. I live in New York City and take great pleasure in my fantasy life. I write to justify my imagination and satisfy my churning soul. New York City does that to a person, escape is a necessary indulgence.

Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem

From the Salem Witch trials through the Nineteenth Century and beyond, Annabel Horton is pursued by the devil’s disciple, Urban Grandier, the demonic priest from the incident at Loudon. She must take the bodies of those that the devil favors to protect her family. She must uncover the motive behind the illusive Ursula/Louis Bossidan, the scandalous cross-dresser who is pursuing her beautiful granddaughter, and she must learn, being one of God’s most powerful witches, how to use her power. But will it be enough to save her husband from Urbain’s fiery inferno? Will it be enough to save her children from demons greater than themselves? Read on, you will learn more…..

Welcome to my blog, Vera Jane. I’m so chuffed to have the opportunity to chat about your book Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem. Where did the initial idea for the book come from?

I woke up one morning with the opening words to Annabel Horton on my lips. I ran to the computer to write them down. Light is not the same to me as it is to you……….. At the time, I was writing another book, my first manuscript, a semi autobiographical tale about three generations of women. Once Annabel spoke to me I wrote them both, spending time on one story and then going back to the other. I enjoyed my own split personality, my need to tell both Annabel’s tale and my own.

What in particular inspired you to write this book?

You know, what really inspired me to write this book was my love for Anne Rice and her vampire novels. I was so intrigued with the prospect of going anywhere I wanted to go without having to make sense of anything. It may be because I’m also Catholic, and death fascinates me, being able to beat death in some way also fascinates me. But even deeper or beyond death there is religion and the great icons of religious history. More than anything, I want to go back in time and see life from the perspective of those that couldn’t possibly conceptualize us. But since I can’t, I assume a knowledge that all time is within me anyway.

What research did you need to do to write Lost Witch of Salam?

I researched the Salem Witch trials pretty extensively and used the actual people that are recorded in history as having been there and died there. I found an interesting correlation to the incident at Loudon and this mesmerizing priest that was able to drive the nuns into sexual hysterics, sort of like the hysterical little girls from Salem. When the book opens, Annabel is confused. She finds her way as a spirit, but when she is between this world and that place where all time meets, she returns with more knowledge and more acceptance of her power. By the end of the book, she enjoys it, this ability to cross time. I hope that in the second book of the trilogy I can write about her power, not her awareness of being powerful, but her actual experience of herself as one of God’s witches.

How did you choose the title for your book?

The title for the book was very interesting. It must have been buried deep in my subconscious, either that or I channel lost souls. My character’s name is in the title. As I wrote I realized my character was indeed, lost. Thus came the rest of the title: Lost Witch of Salem. But what is most interesting about this is that the morning I awoke and began to write, the name Annabel Horton just came to me. I have no idea how I thought of it, but I decided to Google her, and lo and behold I found that a real Annabel Horton lived and died shortly after the infamous witch trials in Massachusetts. I think, sometimes, she told me her tale and vanished, leaving it all buried within me.

That’s a very interesting. I love the idea of Annabel Horton channeling her story through you.

So, who will enjoy reading your book and why?

People who might like my book are a bit eccentric and question whether or not this is it, in terms of explaining life. I mean, science explains it, religion explains it, but is that it? Couldn’t there be some other whole explanation as to how we got here and who we really are? There are people who talk to ghosts, people who have seen the other side and though they don’t explain it well, can we really doubt their experiences? What’s a soul and where does it go? Have we been here before? I think anyone open to questioning the journey we’re all on would like this book. Annabel is a spirit. She calls herself a witch because she can cross time. Well, maybe we all have that ability. Who knows?

Annabel sounds like a very interesting character, what makes her tick?

I’d say being in spirit form makes Annabel tick. It isn’t easy being pursued by the devil. Let’s not forget her vast wealth and her need to protect it. Oh, and that nasty cross dresser makes her tick like a time bomb, the little slippery scoundrel!

Are you working on another book at the moment? Can you tell us about it?

Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem is the first of a trilogy. The second book is called, Annabel Horton and the Black Witch of Pau. Back in the 1400s and 1500s there were many French witches. The Black Witch is a descendent of a very famous one, Angele de La Barthe, who was from Toulouse and was killed in 1230 for being a witch. The French witches did many things for money, like selling their infants and doing incantations for the King and Queen. They were paid royally for their talents. My Black Witch is not so macabre. Every time she kills she must sing, specifically, an aria. She’s an opera singer for real but she has this ability to concoct potions of great strength. At the bequest of Urban Grandier, she mixes her greatest creation with the sole purpose of doing away with Annabel Horton and those closest to her. It will be a real clash of swords when they do go at it.

That sounds fantastic. I’ll be adding it to my TBR pile.

Vera Jane, how long have you been writing seriously?

I was always writing, not necessarily a novel, but poems, a diary, short stories. I never dreamed in a million years that I would ever consider taking it seriously. As a young woman, I wanted to be an actress, which I was for at least ten years. I drifted away from acting for a number of reasons, but mostly because I was not really well suited for it. At some point, at around my fiftieth birthday I sat down to write a novel. Today I have eleven completed novels, two are published and three will be published this year and next. I discovered myself at fifty; it’s never too late to evolve with life.

And you’ve been very successful at carving a new career for yourself.

Who’s been most influential to you as a writer in improving your craft?

The greatest teachers I have as a writer are other writers. I learn a great deal from good editors but there is nothing like reading a book written by a writer that has learned how to craft plot, develop story line and create compelling characters that live and breathe on the pages. I started reading novels at a very young age, and it was like magic. The book was called Hot Shot. It was about a basketball player. I fell in love then and there. The last time I was in love? Well, let’s see. Before Caleb Carr there was Wally Lamb. Just a week or so ago it was Anita Shreve. Once upon a time it was Oscar Wilde and Collette. Tomorrow I just  know that Nelson DeMille will sweep me off my feet.  But my heart has always belonged to Jodi Picoult.

And finally, as a bit of fun, what is your favourite word?

I like the word persnickety though I’ve never used it in a novel but it just describes so many people I know. I myself am persnickety. Maybe I should create a persnickety character, a feisty old woman, perhaps, or a little young whippersnapper. Hey, there’s a word, whippersnapper – describes my dog to perfection.

Thank you so much for providing us with such detailed answers. I’m sure readers will join me in wishing you every success with Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem.

Available Musa publishing:

http://www.musapublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=11&products_id=107