Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Interview - Lady of the Crescent Moon by Ingrid Hahn

Do you title the book first or wait until after it’s complete?

I title everything before I start. I write the logline, concept, the back-cover copy, and the synopsis. All those elements are critical to me for finding a story’s place with readers. I didn’t used to do all that pre-work. Those stories floundered. Now when I start writing, I’m on much more confident and sure footed because I know what I’m working toward. That doesn’t mean things don’t change. They do. Usually for the better when I identify the holes. Having those elements in place lets me identify and address holes and weak spots much faster.

Is there a genre(s) that you’d like to write that you haven’t tackled yet?

Not a genre, but a place. I’d love to write a historical story set in Venice.

Of all the characters you’ve ever written, who is your favorite and why?

Sidonie Cordumont from my latest release, LADY OF THE CRESCENT MOON. I loved taking a non-magical stance on witches. My witches do have magic (some, not a lot), but try not to use it. They have absolutely no dealings in darker things. They are women who help. They get into dirty places and do dirty jobs for the humble people of the earth—anyone in need, really, but their calling is to live simply and humbly. That’s not what the story is about (at all), but that’s at the core of who Sidonie is. Working hard. Doing the right thing. Sidonie is social justice in action.

For the gift of Sidonie, I owe a vast debt to Terry Pratchett’s witch books. I acknowledge his badass characters in the front of my own book, one of whom, Granny Weatherwax (Esmerelda—no spelling mistake) is my all time favorite character in all the fiction I’ve read.

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

Switching gears drastically from my newly released angsty gothic romance set in 17th century France, a book with just enough danger sex to suit the story (one scene, but it’s good and worth waiting for), I can’t wait to tell you about WILLFUL DEPRAVITY! Coming soon from Entangled!

Going back to my roots, this book is a very, very naughty Regency romance featuring an unapologetically depraved hero and an unapologetically #effyourbeautystandards heroine.  

I don’t have any details yet about a release date. We’re only just finishing the final edits as I write this. Follow me on the social media platform of your choice. When I have more details, I’ll be sharing! If you love historical naughtiness and are oh-so-very-ready for heroines with diverse body types, you won’t want to miss this one.

Enjoy an excerpt with the tantalizing hero first awakening the heroine to all the things she wants but thought she could never have:

Patience should have said no. Although not wholly appropriate, what he asked wasn’t wicked, per se. The current between them said differently. That everything he thought, said, and did was far beyond the limits of acceptable behavior.

Maybe she was tired of acceptable behavior. Maybe she was curious about what he wanted to see. Maybe she should test if what she perceived about him was anywhere near correct.
She began by plucking at the fingers of her white gloves one at a time. She’d embroidered the gloves prettily with a floral pattern in ivory silk thread. All too conscious of his attention upon her every tug, she kept her gaze fastened to her work as she went. Like she was a being of utmost fascination.

Fingers of the gloves loose, Patience untied the tapes atop the arm, and, with a rush of heady, brazen daring, slid them down. Slowly, she bared her skin to him.

She chanced a glance up. Their thoughts must have matched. The intensity of his stare when their gazes met spoke of all the things going unsaid between them.

With her gloves tossed over one arm, she held out her hands for inspection.

He studied them. “Not a spot of ink to be found. Quite without fault.” He lifted his eyes, his penetrating gaze full of heat and roguish hunger. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?”

“Miss Patience Emery.”

“Lovely. Well, Miss Emery, first I would like your permission to say something rather shocking to you.”

Shocking? A thrill skittered up Patience’s spine. Stripping her gloves away had only made her want more.

She kept her features disinterested as she bestowed a regal nod. “Do your worst, sir.”
“Allow me to offer you a certain…proposition.”

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

The writing. I love it and hate it. I also have a problem with the load of bollocks writing advice floating around the internet. All writing advice is complete crap except for what works for that particular writer. Write everyday? Great! If that’s what works for you. Otherwise, write three times a week. Fastdraft twenty pages a day? Sure! If that’s what works for you. Otherwise, slogging through sentence by sentence is just fine. Your book. Your time. Your style. All your choice. Don’t let anyone bully you into thinking otherwise.

Do you have any advice for other writers?

No matter what your ideal publishing path might be, don’t publish when you are ready. Publish when your craft skills are ready. That might not come at the same time. I strongly caution against premature self-publishing. Self-publishing is a viable and powerful option; I’m absolutely not dismissing it. Waiting sucks almost as much as rejection. Don’t rush. Don’t rush. Don’t rush. A well-written book and beautifully told story are worth it.

What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

I’m thinking of picking up a pumpkin spice latte habit this autumn out of protest for the internet being down on people (*ahem* women) who enjoy them. I’ve only ever had one once by accident when the barista made the wrong drink. I didn’t think much about them one way or the other until the derision and judgement began.

Maybe in a world of endless chain stores and restaurants, people are craving something different. If that’s the case, tearing down the people who enjoy the drink is not the way to affect change. Frequenting your own local businesses, however…

When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures?

No pleasure should be guilty! I enjoy all my pleasures to the fullest. Wine. Chocolate. The entire box of chocolates in one sitting. Champagne for absolutely no reason at all other than it’s fun to drink. 

Lady of the Crescent Moon
Ingrid Hahn

Genre: Gothic Historical Romance

Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing, LLC

Date of Publication: September 19, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-68291-738-1

Number of pages: 179
Word Count: 48,800
Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone

Tagline: In darkness, only love can light the way.

Book Description:

Normandy, 1679…

An age of high baroque splendor and excess. An age of new enlightenments; the dawn of the new epoch amid the clutter of a dying era. An age of curses and magic. An age of superstition, witches, and witch hunts.

Sidonie Cordumont is not powerful enough to save her fellow witches, imprisoned in the secret dungeons of Paris. She returns to Normandy, the place of her birth, desperately seeking help to defeat the impossible foe intent on ridding the land of her brethren. Instead, she falls into the clutches of a man she never believed she’d see again. A man she’d once hoped to marry.

The last thing Roland, Marquis d’Ambroisin, expects is to have the woman he lost tumble into his arms in the dead of night, no better than a common thief. But once he’s caught her, he doesn’t want to let her go. Unfortunately, she’s on a reckless mission, and he’s helpless to do the one thing he wants above all—protect her.

Until a promise to his dying mother binds them together…


Sidonie didn’t know she’d taken a step backward until there came a crunching sound from beneath the heavy soles of her worn boots. A shiver rattled down her spine. She wouldn’t dare take her gaze from the figure, not even to blink, but there was a dry quality to the sound. She didn’t need to look to know what she’d crushed.
It was an old bone.
Her back hit something solid and large hands closed gently around the tops of her arms. Roland’s smell made her heart leap. He’d safeguard her. All the protection she hadn’t thought she needed or wanted, she did. At least until she regained her equilibrium.
Slowly, as if he occupied a separate realm where time trickled instead of spun, the haunted man raised his head, his gaze focusing over her shoulder. The man . . . entity . . . Jacques . . . whatever he might have been, his voice was like sand. “Good day, Sidonie. We have been waiting for you.”

Her mouth went dry and panic pounded through her veins. It was too soon. She couldn’t die yet. “Waiting . . . for me?”

About the Author:

Ingrid Hahn is a failed administrative assistant with a B.A. in Art History.

Her love of reading has turned her mortgage payment into a book storage fee, which makes her the friend who you never want to ask you for help moving.

Originally from Seattle, she now lives in the metropolitan DC area with her ship-nerd husband, small son, and four opinionated cats. When she’s not reading or writing, she loves knitting, theater, nature walks, travel, history, and is a hopelessly devoted fan of Jane Austen.

She’d love to connect with her readers! Find her on Twitter as @Ingrid_Writer, on Instagram as ingrid_hahn, and on Facebook as Ingrid Hahn.

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