Introducing the author of The Pierce of Shadows, Tina Snyder.
Tina's author Bio:
I was born and raised in West Virginia. I have always enjoyed writing ( mostly in the form of poems). However, my love of books and a healthy imagination is what inspired me to write my first novel.
I have been married to my best friend, Sam (a paramedic) for over twenty years. I am a stay at home mother of two teenagers, Savanah and Isaiah. I am also an advocate of hope and a supporter of laughter.
Kasper: Thanks Tina. I love your positivity. Welcome to Kasper's Ramblings. We are looking forward to learning all about you and your writings.
- Book title: The Pierce of Shadows
- Genre: Psychological thriller /suspense/ mystery
- Synopsis: A woman in her twenties has to find the strength inside her to survive loss, a broken marriage, depression and a serial killer.
- Publish date: August 16, 2013
- Publisher: Self-published through Createspace
Hi Tina. What was the defining event that made you start writing?
I have always written poetry and song lyrics for as far back as I can remember. However, in 2008 and I was in a bad car accident. All I could do for weeks was lay around, so I spent most of that time reading. I probably read 15 books from all genres. One day, I picked up a pen and a notebook and just started writing. That was my defining moment as far as starting a novel, which turned into my debut novel, The Pierce of Shadows.
It's great to hear how you turned your injury into such a positive life experience.
What made you choose the mystery and thriller genre?
The reason I chose the thriller/suspense genre is because it is my absolute favorite. I love the thrill of the unknown. I also have a passion for psychology. It is fascinating to me to study how the human mind works.
What’s the basic storyline of your book?
The basic plot of the Pierce of Shadows is trying to overcome a mental illness while constantly being knocked back from any progress by multiple tragedies. It is not only about having the will to survive, but finding the desire to.
I imagine that would be inspirational for other people who are going through similar situations. I remember being off work with a back injury myself and how easily you can fall into depression.
Which scene from The Pierce of Shadows book do you like best and why?
My favorite scene is when Trish finally has that moment of clarity where, instead of questioning, overthinking or being defeated by every obstacle, she gets angry and bold and finally takes action. That concept is inspiring to me.
What music do you listen to when writing?
1980’s pop and rock
What are you working on now?
I am currently working on my second novel, Echoes of the Forsaken. In sticking with the theme of dealing with some form of mental impairment, in this book, the main character will be struggling with Post Traumatic Stress.
Wow! You certainly are a brave author to tackle these issues. I really admire that.
My basic writing routine is simple. I will write for a few days and then walk away from it for a few days. That way really works for me. Instead of overwhelming myself by constantly writing, I take a break but still think about it until I get to the point of missing it. Then I gather the notes or ideas that I had written down during those times and get back to work.
What do you do when you have writers’ block?
I have found that sitting down and reading something else really helps me. After I finish a great book, my spark is rekindled and it inspires me to figure it out and keep going.
How did you go about developing your cover artwork?
I actually did the cover myself. I had a time trying to decide what I wanted the cover to look like. Then one day, I spent some time looking through pictures and I found the one you see on it. There was something about the look in her eyes that really spoke to me. I felt it captured how I imagined the main character, Trish Murphy, looked most of the time. The photo is actually of my daughter, Savannah.
I bet Savannah is stoked to have her beautiful pic on the cover too.
How do you handle marketing on social media?
I am still learning how to get through the basic bells and whistles in regards to social media. I am getting pretty good with Facebook but I am still trying to figure out how Twitter works.
Who are your five favorite authors?
I have read a lot of great authors, but I my absolute favorites are: J.R.R Tolkien, C.S Lewis, Dean Koontz, Stephen King, and George Orwell
What is your favorite quote?
“If I can keep one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.” Emily Dickenson
What’s your favorite line from a book?
“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
Do you prefer e-book or hardcopy?
I like the convenience of an e-book, in regards to having it almost instantly but there is nothing like the feeling of a book in my hands.
Thanks so much for dropping in today, Tina, and sharing your inspiring thoughts. We are lucky today to have a snippet from The Pierce of Shadows to share with all our readers. Please take all take the time to read Tina's excerpt and check out her links. Until next time, have a fantastic time, cheers, Kasper.
An early-morning rain tapped steadily against the roof of their lavish Colonial-style home. Trish sat quietly on the couch, her cheek resting on its plush upholstered back. She stared intently at the bleak landscape outside her window. The sun was hidden behind a thick blanket of dark clouds that seemed to smother the sky. She watched as the tiny raindrops gracefully rolled down the glass and trickled from the bottom of the slight opening in the window, where they merged into a single still pool at the bottom of the windowsill. The dreariness of the day complemented the melancholy that adorned her mood.
The heaviness that she felt in her heart consumed her. Even the ability to hold a simple thought was defeated by her lack of energy. As she slothfully turned her head towards the kitchen, her eyes inadvertently became fixated on a large canvas that hung above the fireplace. It was an oil painting of her and Clark from their wedding day. In that instant, the tiny thread that had been holding her together broke, and she began to weep uncontrollably. A longing compelled her to rise from the comfort of the couch. Trish moved across the room toward the painting with all the solemnity of a pallbearer in a funeral procession. With each step, her agony grew. She reached out and gently caressed the coarseness of each brush stroke that formed the image of Clark’s face. He had been the only medicine she ever needed until the weight of her inner misery rendered, even him, ineffective. Through her tears, she began to recollect one of the scarce happy moments that she had shared with Clark since returning to school.
Her Behavioral Science class was studying the minds of serial killers. This, of course, captivated Trish. She had spent many hours researching all she could find on the psychology of murder. She made notes of specific questions that she sought to answer. What could trigger such violent acts? Was it something painful from their childhood? Were there physical changes in the brain of a killer that aren’t present in regular people? Her dining room table was covered with books and literature on the subject. She was so engrossed in her research that she failed to notice how much time had passed, until a quick glance at the lower corner of her computer screen brought it to her attention.
With haste, she closed her books, collected her notes and shut down her computer. Her focus now shifted to the other love of her life, Clark. She cleared the managed chaos from the large square cherry-wood table and hustled to the kitchen to start dinner. It wasn’t until her bare foot touched the chilled tile of the kitchen floor that she looked down at herself and paused.
She was still in the pajama pants and tank top she had slept in. “Crap!” she yelled out. She glanced at the digital clock on the kitchen stove and discovered that only an hour remained until Clark typically arrived. “Not a problem.” She assured herself. She then made an abrupt U-turn. As she ran in the direction of the wide hallway towards their bedroom, she noticed movement outside of the patio door. “Luna!” she yelled. Trish forgot to let their one hundred and forty-eight-pound merle pooch back inside the house. She was a beautiful dog; light gray with black- and white patches. She had been outside for hours and danced with joy when she was finally noticed. As Trish opened the door, Luna ran inside and straight to her food dish, almost knocking Trish over. With the time on her mind, Trish swiftly leaned over and hugged her big baby before venturing back toward the direction of the bedroom. Once there, she dressed in a pair of jeans and a white form-fitting blouse that she had grabbed from the closet. She placed her comfy pajamas in the bathroom hamper and stepped in front of the full-length mirror. Her thick, but frayed, dark chocolate colored hair fell against her back as she removed the scrunchie that had held a loose bun in place. “What a mess,” she thought to herself. She picked up her hairbrush and ran it through her long locks, and touched up her face with some light make-up from her vanity. She then headed back toward the kitchen. As she journeyed through the living room, she noticed that Luna was already snoozing on her gigantic red plaid pillow by the electronic fireplace. It was in the upper 70’s, and no heat radiated from it. Still, Trish would often turn on the artificial flames because she found them to be particularly relaxing. Luna adopted the spot for the same reason, or at least that is what Trish believed. Just as Trish began to set the table, the whirring sound of the garage door opening resonated throughout the house. A smile exploded across her face. She was still very much in love with her six-foot tall, two hundred pounds of pure muscle husband. Some people often teased that Clark looked more like a professional wrestler than a lawyer. Her stomach erupted with the feeling of butterflies.
She took a quick look at herself in the stainless steel refrigerator, ran her fingers through her hair, and adjusted her clothes. She rushed over to close the gate that kept the dog, who was now up and just as excited by Clark’s arrival, from entering the dining area. Trish had already opened the door which led from the kitchen to the garage and watched as he slipped off his suit jacket and placed it across his muscular forearm. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his light gray and white pin-striped dress shirt as he retrieved his leather briefcase and closed the car door. As Clark looked up, she caught a glimpse of his eyes for the first time since early morning. Her heartbeat accelerated. His face sported a smile just as vast as the one on hers. She ran toward him. He placed his briefcase on the hood of the car, as she swiftly sprang into his arms. His strong hands embraced her bottom as he held her up. She tightened her legs around his waist as they kissed tenderly.
“I missed you” she whispered.
“I missed you,” he uttered back.
She stroked his arms.
“I love a strong man” she flirted. “It’s extremely hot.”
“So that turns you on, huh?” he inquired amused.
She vertically nodded her head. “Do you know what turns me on?” he asked.
“What?” she whispered.
He leaned so close to her right ear that she could feel his warm breath and in the sexiest voice that he could produce, he answered, “A woman who smells like stir-fry.”
They both exploded with laughter as Trish returned both feet to the floor. She reached out, picked up his briefcase with her right hand and held his hand with the other. She rotated her body in the direction of the door, and they stepped inside. Before he had sat down to have dinner, Clark took a quick shower and slipped into something more relaxing. He had searched his dresser and pulled out a white-ribbed tank and a pair of loose fitting jeans.
Trish giggled as she heard the weight of the dog fall against the outside of their bedroom door. Clark babied the dog for a few minutes before he returned to the dining room. He sat down but not before he retrieved a bottle of his favorite beer from the fridge.
“Life is good,” he said.
Trish turned, with a platter of pepper steak in her hand, and paused for a moment. Her eyes now concentrated on the sexy tribal tattoo that started on the right-side of his chest, continued across his shoulder and down onto his perfectly chiseled bicep.
“Yes it is!” She smiled as she sat the platter in the center of the table and thought, at that moment, her life truly was good.
During dinner, Clark had told her how the fiery scent of onions, soy sauce and green peppers filled the garage as he arrived. He silently patted himself on the back for buying a house with a garage next to the kitchen. The stress of his day released, riding the sweet aromatic wave up to the ceiling where it became imprisoned and then lost. His thoughts shifted from criminals and court to a hot meal, a cold beer and his beautiful wife.
After their meal, Clark laid on the couch with Trish in his arms. They watched as the tranquil flames danced behind the glass barrier of the fireplace. At this point, no words were required. Their embrace spoke volumes. Once Trish leaned up to kiss him, there was no turning back. They both rose from the couch. Clark picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Luna followed them down the hall. As he stepped inside, he looked back and said, “Sorry girl” and closed the door behind them. They both giggled as sound of the dog’s body fell against the door again.
He placed his stunning wife gently on the bed and positioned himself, on his side, comfortably facing her. He tenderly brushed her cheek with his hand and kissed her forehead. They cuddled for a brief moment before they wholly surrendered to their desires. They made love for what seemed like hours, taking their time to appreciate every moment and every motion. They remained in each other’s arms for the duration of the night, neither willing to move. As if letting go of each other would somehow forfeit their extraordinary connection. As Trish’s thoughts began to give way to the stillness of slumber, she could not imagine a time when their lives could be anything less than this moment. As Clark gently tightened his arms around her, she had no doubt that together they could endure anything that life threw at them. Comforted by the warmth of each other’s bodies, they both fell sound asleep.
Trish’s peaceful thoughts were interrupted by Luna’s whimper to go outside. The rain had since stopped, so she walked over and opened the patio doors. She glanced back at the painting and wondered whether a time like that could ever be possible again. Her attention shifted to the clock on the wall. She still worked part-time with her dad and only had two hours before she had to be there. She waited a moment before calling the dog back inside, and then hurried to get ready.
To continue the story, please read The Pierce of Shadows on Amazon.com