Can you tell readers a little bit about
yourself and what inspired to write in this particular genre?
Hi everybody, I’m Krista Holle, a
registered nurse by day and writer by night. I’ve always had an affinity for
love stories and after the huge success of Twilight,
it occurred to me that there are a lot of women and girls out there who
secretly love romance just like me. I started furiously typing.
What inspired you to write this
book?
I wrote The
Wind Whisperer while living on land once owned by Pocahontas. She was a big
inspiration to me. A lot of the elements
in my Native American paranormal romance come from the local Powhatan tribe.
Please tell us about your latest
release.
Anaii is a
fifteen-year-old Native American girl with the ability to communicate with the
wind spirits. As the story evolves, Anaii discovers her kinship to the wind is
closer than she ever imagined. The story also revolves around a juicy love
triangle.
Do you have a special formula for
creating characters' names?
All the character names I used are authentic Native American
names with the exception of Anaii my main character and Jayttin, the son of an
enemy chief. I couldn’t find names that had the right “sound” to it, so I took
some artistic liberties.
Is there a character that you
enjoyed writing more than any of the others?
Actually I really enjoyed writing about Anaii’s guard,
Makawee. While researching Native Americans for my book I read about a tribe
that had a few effeminate men that were ridiculed by the manly men and loved by
the women. They were flamboyant in dress and tender-hearted. These unusual men
were my inspiration for Makawee. He’s a wacky guy.
Do
you have a formula for developing characters?
I think it’s very important to know where you’re headed
before writing a story. If you don’t you’ll likely hit a stone wall or spin in
circles. I always start a novel with a loose character sketch.
Did you find anything really
interesting while researching this book?
I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but I discovered that
the early Native Americans weren’t romantic at all in the sense that we
think. I once read about a warrior that
returned home after a very long journey. When he and his wife first saw each
other for the first time, they simply gazed at each other. That’s it—no
kissing, just one long soulful stare.
What is the most interesting thing
you have physically done for book related research purposes?
I attended a local Native American
pow-wow. This gave me the reference I needed to describe some of the dancing
that goes on in The Wind Whisperer.
Do you have any weird writing quirks
or rituals?
I
write with sound silencing headphones.
When did you consider yourself a
writer?
I didn’t
have the confidence to call myself a “writer” until I first became published in
December 2011.
What are your guilty pleasures in
life?
Vampire
Diaries and obscene amounts of pizza.
Other than writing, what are some of
your interests, hobbies or passions in life?
I love to
collect seashells from all over the world.
I also have four hormone filled daughters that keep life busy and very
exciting.
What was the last amazing book you
read?
Divergent.
What can readers expect next from
you?
The Wind Whisperer can stand alone
but it has a sequel that has already been written. You can expect A New Whisper sometime in fall 2014.
Where can readers find you on the
web?
Would you like to leave readers with
a little teaser or excerpt from the book? I’d love to!
Excerpt:
I looked around cautiously before freezing at the sketchy outline of a muscular man partially
hidden in the grass. A man! He was sprawled on his back
and golden pink from too many hours in the sun. My heart pounded to see
the unfamiliar pattern of a deer on his breechcloth. I had marched myself
directly into the reach of a Zennite warrior!
I gingerly took a step backwards, but to my horror, the man’s
black eyes fluttered open. I turned and hurled myself back across the
meadow, just as the man shot up and flew after me like a predatory bird.
My muscles burned and strained to lengthen the space between us, but getting
away was hopeless. I was not a challenge to even the young boys in the
foot races.
After a few powerful strides, the warrior tackled me to the
ground, painfully grazing the skin on my cheek. I wheezed a few times
before my lungs filled with air.
“A Chippoke?” he asked between breaths.
I feverishly punched and kicked to free myself.
“Get—off—me!”
“Stop! I’m not going to hurt you,” the warrior chuckled as he
struggled to pin my arms and legs. His voice was calm and pleasant, but
lying was no different than breathing to a Zennite.
“I cannot promise the same,” I wheezed as I fought.
“You’re a bobcat,” he said with a laugh. “A bobcat with no
teeth or claws.”
“Let me go!”
“I will when you’re calm.”
Strong hands held my wrists while his full weight pinned my torso
against the earth. Fighting him was as useless as running. “You are
not a boy,” I spat angrily, fully taking in my attacker. It was little
comfort that he didn’t look like a bloodthirsty killer.
He was admittedly handsome with an angular face and sleek black hair that
hung well past his shoulders. He was not as tall as Elan, but
his muscles were narrow and built for speed. There was something different
about his eyes too. They were as black as soot—very unlike the brown
woodsy colors from our tribe.
The warrior smirked down at me. “My mother will be very
surprised to hear that. All this time she’s assumed…”
My face heated, but I fiercely met his gaze. The Zenni were
like wild dogs and pumas—they could smell emotions. “What I meant was, you are
a man, not a boy.”
“Oh, I see, but you must understand, I’m not a man yet.”
“You must understand I’m a squirrel! Get off!
You’re hurting me!” I ordered with a useless heave.
“No,” he said with a smirk.
It was then I realized I might die—right after I was lulled
into a false sense of security. My chest pounded as I searched for the
killer’s weapon. “Are you going to kill me?”
“I do not feel like killing you just yet,” he said as his long
hair swirled in my face. Were we to play a game before he
killed me?
“I am glad the mood doesn’t strike you,” I snarled. The
warrior studied me with a drawn brow. Was he guessing that I was the
forest witch? I didn’t think I looked like a witch, but I wasn’t certain
what one should look like—evil at least.
“I don’t understand something,” the warrior said. “Your eyes
are blue—the blue of an angry sky. Are you the daughter of a god?”
“Yes,” I said, heaving against his weight again. “Now get off
me, or my father Achak will strike you dead with lightening.”
The Wind Whisperer
Krista Holle
At fifteen, Anaii is the most important member of her tribe—and the most mysterious. Ever since Anaii can remember, the spirits of the wind have whispered of fertile hunting grounds and imminent enemy attacks. But when her people are ambushed by a brother clan without any apparent cause, the spirits remain eerily silent.
As the village prepares to retaliate, Anaii is pressured by her best friend, Elan, to marry him. It’s an old plea—Elan has spent a lifetime loving her, but Anaii only sees a childhood playmate out of an imposing warrior. Stifled by Elan’s insistence, Anaii escapes into the forest where she meets Jayttin, the beautiful son of the enemy chief.
Enamored by Jayttin’s carefree spirit and hope for peace, she repeatedly sneaks away to be with him, but when her deception is discovered, Elan is devastated. Pledging his lifelong affection, Elan gives her a passionate kiss, and Anaii begins to see her friend in a new light.
While Anaii is tormented over which man she must choose, the wind whispers of a new threat that could destroy both tribes. Only a union will afford a chance at survival, but the reality of that union is based on one thing—which man Anaii chooses to die
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