Interview and Book Excerpt of Destiny’s Daughter: Hide and Seek
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Destiny’s Daughter: Hide & Seek
By Anthony Sunderland
By Anthony Sunderland
Destiny’s Daughter Book 2
Genre: Science Fiction
Publisher: Victoria Publishing
Number of pages: 154
Cover Artist: Lazar K. https://www.elance.com/s/sugarbricks/
Dawn Dempsey has successfully infiltrated the FBI's elite alien hunting squad. Welcomed as a valued member of the Alien Visitation Investigation team, and above suspicion, her mission is to thwart the FBI's investigations from the inside.
She is also intent on freeing the captured alien.
On a routine investigation into old abduction cases in rural Iowa with her partner and lover, Scott Nelson, a chance encounter threatens to ruin everything for her.
Could her undercover mission be over before it has even begun? Could her true nature be about to be revealed by an unstable war hero?
About the Author:
I live in Halifax, UK.
I’m a long time Sci Fi, fantasy, and horror nut. I was inspired to start writing by the season one finale of Buffy TVS.
I’ll try just about anything once - fire eating, parachuting, I'm a qualified glider pilot, and want to do the bungee jump from the Bloukrans Bridge in South Africa.
I appreciate your taking the time to visit with us today.
1. What inspired this particular novel/book?
It’s a spin-off from a spec screenplay I’ve written about an alien princess, hence the series title. The main character, Dawn, can only hope to meet her mother if her mission is a success.
2. What character was your favorite to write for in this story? Why?
Dawn. Because she’s outwardly a confident accomplished character, but she’s alone in our world and doesn’t even really belong in her own world. I do hope that I manage do convey those conflicts to the reader.
3. Which was your favorite scene to write?
The final scene in Vol I. It still makes me cry to think about it. I hope that readers get to this point wanting to know more about Dawn, conflicted about her actions and motivations, but intrigued and willing to forgive her.
It conveys the tragedy of her situation and shows the dangers she faces and the sacrifices she will have to make.
4. What was the hardest thing about writing this story?
Trying to get the balance between Dawn doing some shocking and seemingly erratic things while hopefully not turning readers against her until they discover who she really is in aher internal conflicts.
5. What Are Your Writing Quirks & Must-Haves To Write?
I’m going to have to invent something to make me sound interesting. I can write on plane and train journeys and set aside time every week to do so. So just a pen and paper or computer. I often tend to spend ten to fifteen minutes at the start of each session wondering whether I’m good enough and if I will actually manage to create anything worthwhile in that session.
6. What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
7. Do you write full-time? If so, what's your work day like? If not, what do you do other than write and how do you find time to write?
I elected to work three days a week at my job as an electrician for the past two and half years. This gave me time to work on ideas and designs for a possible graphic novel project. This was shelved due to costs.
I’m back on five days a week from September. I can manage to snatch the odd ten minutes during the day, in which I can scribble a full page. I’ve also set aside some evening time and weekend slots, at the expense of some social time.
8. As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
A train driver, then a soldier. I spent five months in the army as an apprentice electronics engineer but didn’t like getting up at six AM
9. When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?
After watching the season one finale of Buffy TVS
10. Where do you find your Inspirations?
From asking questions about our future, thinking about which actors I would like to write parts for, deciding how I would change stories or films that don’t work or I feel shortchange the audience.
Sitting down and brainstorming till my head hurts. Everyday conversations and objects. Vol IV will involve a missing cat, and came about from looking at sculptures an artist had created from scrap. Please don’t tell him, or he’ll want 10% ;-)
11. What do you like to read? Who is your favorite author?
Mainly watch film and TV, and those are the areas I set out wanting to write for. My writing inspiration is Joss Whedon.
12. Please let readers know where they can connect with you and purchase your books...
http://www.anthonysunderland.com/ Listen to Destiny’s Daughter and ’59 free.
Buy from Amazon.com
- Anything additional you want to share with the readers?
Vol III is a work in progress. I cut out about fifteen thousand words when I’d got to the twenty two thousand mark and started again with what was left. I’ve saved the deleted words for a later story.
This involves the hunt for a stealth submarine damaged in a massive underwater blast. Assistant Director Langan’s daughter, a new lifeform discovered at the site of the explosion, and the threat of nuclear war.
Thank you so much for chatting with us today.
John Bishop was in bed, in a dank, dismal room. The sheets were dirty, the walls
grimy. Unwashed pots sat on the few bits of damaged furniture in the room. He looked up
at the figure in the shadow of the far corner.
He forced a smile. “Somehow, I knew you’d come.”
Dawn stepped out of the shadow. “Is that why there was a welcome committee
“Just three close friends who wanted to say their final farewells before I go. I
assume they’ve gone now.” He lifted a glass to his lips and drained it, and then coughed
“Yes,” she conceded. “But, you still didn’t make it easy to get in here.”
“No,” he admitted. “But, I hoped you’d be up to the challenge.” He held out the
glass. “Exactly how did you find me, anyway?”
“The third pill you swallowed was a tracking device.” She stepped forward and
took the glass from him.
“It’s a good job I’m not going to live long enough to have that tear my butthole
open when I try to pass it.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It will have dissolved by now.” She held the glass up.
“Do you take ice and water with that?” Dawn walked towards the kitchen.
“Neat. I’m not going to my grave with people saying I acted like a bleeding
poofter at the last minute.”
She returned with a large measure in the glass and the bottle in her left hand. “Sip
it steady. We don’t want you throwing all those pills up now.”
“Why are you doing this?” he asked.
“You shouldn’t have to die alone.” Dawn choked back her emotions. She scanned
the room. “In a squalid place like this.”
“You’re the FBI. You’re the law.” He swallowed the whiskey. “Shouldn’t you -”
He choked, then coughed and spluttered several times.
Dawn stepped forward to help him, but restrained herself from doing so. She
asked, “Do you want some water?”
He coughed again. “No. Give me some more of the good stuff.” He held the glass
out, coughed again, and beat his chest.
As she filled the glass, she asked, “Do you want me to call someone? Family?
“Yeah.” He took the glass from her. “Call the FBI and the media. Tell them
you’re an alien, and I’m dying for nothing.” He took a large swig.
Dawn stepped away from the bed, checked her watch, and said, “You haven’t got
long left to live. If you want to stop this, give yourself another few days, then let me
know now.” She sat down. “If not, then now would be a good time to tell me any
messages you want passed on. Any last requests or anything you want said in your
She listened in silence to him recount his life from his earliest memories. Her eyes
welled up at the story of the end of his marriage, when his wife sent him video of herself
in bed with his old school friend, while John was serving his final tour in Iraq.
Gradually, his voice faded, his speech faltered, and the words became slurred.
Dawn stood up, walked over to the bed, took his right hand, and sat down next to him.
She said, “I’m sorry for all the pain we caused you.” Tears filled her eyes. “Yes I was
that girl that you grabbed hold of on the spaceship.”
His eyes opened wide. He lifted his head slightly, and grabbed weakly for her
with his left hand.
Dawn said, “The creature that attacked you when you grabbed me was my
adopted mother. Her name was Jensu” She sniffled. “I know you probably can’t
understand it, but I’ve never known my real mother.” She wiped her eyes on the back of
her coat sleeve. “She’s alive but…”
John clawed at her arm, lifted his head slightly, and his eyes burned with anger.
Dawn said, “On my very first day with the FBI, I had to kill Jensu. I couldn’t protect her.
Not the way she so fearlessly protected me when everyone else was so scared of you.”
John whispered, “You did this to me.”
“I swear we never meant to hurt you. We never meant for any of this to happen!”
His hand fell away from her arm, and his head dropped onto the pillow. His voice
was barely audible. “We’ve got you now.”
Dawn shook her head. She pulled a connector box from her pocket and said, “I
couldn’t let you record this conversation.”
He gasped and tried to shake his head, but the movement was minimal. He opened
his mouth and tried to form some words. They were virtually inaudible to Dawn. His
arms slipped down to his sides, and he exhaled weakly.
Dawn stared intently at him, trying to figure out his last words. She pulled the
leather glove off her left hand to reveal a thin latex one beneath it. She checked for his
pulse. It was weak. She leaned over and asked, “What did you just say?”
His mouth opened ever so slightly. She leaned over to listen to his last feeble
whisper. She lifted her head again and saw his eyes were open. Their last sight was a
moldy spot on the ceiling directly above him.
“What did you mean? Double bluff?” She asked, knowing there could be no
reply. She shook her head and gasped. His eye moved; he was still alive. She checked
again for a pulse but there was none. There, his left eye moved again.
She clicked her fingers in front of his face and the eye moved. Just the left one,
she realized. She moved backwards and the pupil seemed to grow ever so slightly larger.
She leaned right over, concentrating hard on it. There was a discernible movement. She
got up, stepped back, then to either side.
There was no doubt whatsoever. Dawn reached into her coat pocket for a knife.
She stepped forward and leaned over John’s body.
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