About the Author:
Biography Shawna Stewart, born in California is the youngest of nine children. At 14 she met the love of her life, later marrying him at 18. Together they now have three wonderful children. Suffering from an illness at age 29 she lost her memory. Determined not to let it overtake her life she returned back to school where she is presently working towards her bachelors in Literature and Psychology. Thanks to her sons suggestion, she once again began to write.
Now that I put down my typical Bio I will tell you a little more about me. I live in a small town where I hope to one day buy a farm. I would love to have the room so that my animals could run around and play like they should. I love to write and hope one day to be able to write on a fulltime basis. (I sure miss my late night writing sprees). Besides writing I love to sit by the river with my husband, family and animals and fish. To me it is much more than fishing, it is the time we all spend together laughing.
Do you plan everything or just let the story flow?
I let the story flow.
Do your characters ever want to take over the story?
Most of the time they do. I really get into the characters and it seems sometimes they have a mind of their own.
What is your favourite food?
Bacon cheese burgers
Are you a morning person or a night owl?
A night owl
Where do you dream of travelling to and why?
I would love to go on a cruise. I like the idea of traveling somewhere and not be on a plane.
Do distant places feature in your books?
Distant from me but usually within the USA
Do you listen to music while writing?
Sometimes I do.
Lessons from an Evil Mind is a Dark Paranormal/ urban fantasy/ horror. It is a book that is hard to put one specific Genre onto it. It has a bit of everything. The story is about a woman that is held captive by a man. She is uncertain to who the person is as he never shows his face. She witnesses horrible things, including pain. When she escapes she finds that life is not as she always believed it to be.
What have you learned about writing and publishing since you first started?
A lot. Whether you are self-published or have a publisher the most important thing you can do it get reviews, interviews, just get the book name out there.
Is there anything you would do differently?
Not really. I believe you learn from mistakes.
Who, or what, if anything has influenced your writing?
My son did. I lost my memory in 1995 so I had no idea I use to like to write. One day he asked me why I did not write. I found the idea intriguing so I picked up my laptop and started writing.
Anything you would say to those just starting out in the craft?
Learn from everything, your mistakes, bad reviews, just always keep your head up and never give up.
What are three words that describe you?
a bit silly
What's your favourite book or who is your favourite writer?
I like so many writers and books.
Lue sits in the middle of the floor. Her hands tucked beneath her, her eyes closed and her head, faced down. The evil that haunts her is there and she knows she must sit completely still and await the punishment that is coming next. The room goes silent, with only sounds of his foot steps as he comes closer. Every part of body screams “RUN”, but she knows she does not dare. She must sit silently and await what comes next. A loud crack echoes. Her head seers in pain. Blood rushes down her pale white cheeks. The next lesson has begun.
Even when Lue escapes, she is never far from her captor. She finds her life in turmoil as the Evil that once haunted her refuses to set her free. Her existence becomes filled with Angels and Demons, both of which want her, unfortunate for her the Demon will do everything in his power to keep her as his.
Extract from the book:
It’s a small window, but it’s the only window in this dreadful place and I am happy to have it. At one time, the window was not blocked; however, now the entrance to the window is surrounded by sharp shards of glass cemented into the
concrete around it, allowing only a dim light to seep through the grime and filth that layers the glass. I guess this is toensure I never try to escape again.
With my body weakened, I slowly crawl on top of an old, broken table so that I can get a better look outside. I am just tall enough to see over the barricade in front of the window. It looks like a nice day.
There are a few orange flowers spread amongst the ground, so I try to guess the season.
“Spring,” I think to myself.
The sun peeks through the glass just enough to allow a pin-size ray of light to dance on my palm. I move my bruised hand around as I watch the light dance around, causing the multiple colors of blue, red, and purple to stand out from the milky white flesh that remains untouched by his abuse. Oh, how I crave the sunshine and wind on my face and await the day I can feel it once again! Just as my thoughts wander to a better place, I hear his footsteps above.
He is back!
Any websites/places readers can find you on the web.
Thank you, Shawna and good luck with your books!