Although Karina Gioertz has been writing for most of her life, it never quite registered with her as something out of the ordinary or worth pursuing, because it was so closely connected to who she was. It wasn’t until she became a stay at home mom and finally took the time to write an entire book from beginning to end, that she understood what all of those ideas she had been jotting down all those years were really for. Since then, she has written several books, including Country Girls, Lucky In Love and Blood Bound.
While writing and motherhood have become her main focus over the years, she also enjoys many other creative activities such as painting and photography. Most sunny days she can be found in her courtyard working feverishly at painting and refurbishing old furniture…that is, of course, only if it wasn’t a suitable day to spend at the beach. 😉
Karina resides in sunny Florida with her family and two dogs and can be contacted via Facebook (www.facebook.com/friedgatortail) Twitter (www.twitter.com/friedgatortail) and at www.friedgatortail.wix.com/karinagioertz
AN INTERVIEW WITH KARINA
KV: What genre do you write in?
KG: Women’s Contemporary, Contemporary Romance, YA Romance, Thriller/Suspense, YA Fantasy, Children’s Literature…
KV: If you were forced to switch genres which would you write and why?
KG: Erotica. Just to see if I could. I feel helplessly awkward just writing a simple kissing scene so it would definitely be an opportunity for growth…that, and they seem to sell like hotcakes these days!
KV: If you were stranded on a desert island would you spend your time trying to get off or writing about the experience?
KG: Depends…do I have my daughter and dogs with me? Then I’d probably be pretty content to just hang out and write about it…
KV: Organic writer or plotter?
KG: A bit of a mix I suppose, but definitely heavier on the organic side.
KV: What’s your fave genre to read?
KG: Reading is a lot like writing for me So I read for the story not the genre. If it interests me, I’ll give just about anything a shot…except maybe horror. I’m too big of a wuss for horror…
KV: Besides writing name another guilty pleasure?
KG: Aside from writing, I also love to refurbish old furniture.
KV: Do you listen to music while you write or do you need quiet?
KG: Love music!! Quiet isn’t bad either, but music is always better.
KV: If music, what kind?
KG: Oh, my writing mix is constantly growing, so there’s just about anything you could imagine on there.
KV: Is there a subject you won’t take on for moral or spiritual beliefs?
KG: I’m not big on violence against women or children. I have touched on abuse slightly in one of my books, but I don’t imagine that I would ever write about it in great detail, certainly nothing involving any type of sexual abuse. Not only don’t I have any desire to take the readers there, but mostly, I don’t want to have to go there myself.
KV: If someone asked you to put them in a story would you and as what-villain, hero, or victim or just a bit part?
KG: Haha, I actually just put my daughter into the last book I wrote! As per her request, I turned her into a fairy who helped save the day in her own little pixie way.
A PEEK AT BLOOD BOUND
Blood Bound Excerpt from Chapter 2: Coming Home
…It was late when Scott was awoken by a strange sound that night. At first, he lay there in the dark, waiting to see if he would hear it again. It wasn’t long before he did. The sound was muffled, but a definite indication that someone else was in the pub. While Scott wasn’t exactly expecting anyone, he also couldn’t rule out the possibility that whoever was making that noise did in fact have every right to be there. It was, after all, a bar, which did the majority of its business after hours. Therefore, everyone who worked there was accustomed to late hours.
Certain that he would not be able to go back to sleep without being sure there wasn’t an intruder in the building, Scott climbed out of bed and walked over to the chair in the corner of the room where he had laid his clothes the night before. He pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt and then proceeded to go downstairs to find out what was going on.
When he reached the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, he saw a faint light coming from the office. It was most definitely not the light of the ceiling lamp—more like the dim lighting of a desk light. Curious, Scott approached the doorway. Once able to see inside the office, he found Stanley hastily shuffling through multiple files. Loose papers were strewn all around the small room. Completely unaware of Scott’s presence, he continued on his mission, clearly in search of something very specific he couldn’t quite locate. Silently, Scott took in the scene before him: Stanley, in his dark brown corduroy pants and tan button up-shirt covered by a charcoal vest, which seemed to consist of some sort of fleecy material. His ever-receding hairline was nearly reduced to a single, black ring around the outer contours of his narrow head, and on the tip of his nose rested the same set of reading glasses Scott had seen him wear when he first met him all those years ago as a teenager. Stanley had been his uncle’s best friend and business partner. After Teddy McCarthy’s passing, Stanley had had no choice but to run the pub on his own. That is, until Tommy came along to step into his father’s shoes and carry on in his place.
Unable to determine what Stanley was doing and not wanting to get caught watching him, Scott decided to announce his presence.
Startled, Stanley spun around to face him. Clutching a handful of loose papers to his chest and looking just the slightest bit shaken, he replied as casually as he could, “What? Oh…hi, Scott. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”
“Yeah… Kinda got that feeling. I’m staying upstairs…just ’til after the weekend,” Scott replied, pointing at the ceiling to indicate the spare room above them as he spoke. Meanwhile, Stanley was trying to maneuver himself into a position that might better block the view of the desk from Scott. In an effort to distract Scott from noticing he began to engage him in small talk. “I’m sorry about your cousin. It’s such a shame. Really. Tom was such a bright young man… It came as such a shock to all of us when we heard he’d been arrested. Your aunt was a wreck…and now this. I don’t know how she’ll ever recover.”
Scott nodded, settling his gaze on the ground for a minute as he tried to compartmentalize the various emotions that were flooding through him at that instant. Unable to detach himself entirely, he opted for anger. It was the easiest to control, and would lead to the most productive behavior at the moment. Focusing on that feeling and knowing that what he needed to do next was collect as much information as possible, he decided to keep the conversation going.
“I can’t even imagine. I would have come back sooner if I had known. Of course, I’m not sure that would have helped, either. Tell me, Stanley: what exactly happened? Nobody has told me any details. The only information I’ve been able to get my hands on is what the news has been reporting, and we all know how that goes…”
Relieved not to have to discuss his own peculiar actions, Stanley sat down on the edge of the desk, still blocking what was piled on top of it, and began to tell Scott the extent of what he knew regarding the whole horrible tragedy.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much, either. Only what your aunt told me, and to tell you the truth, I didn’t get the feeling she really understood what was happening. Best I could figure was that Tommy was involved in some sort of robbery that went wrong.”
Scott’s expression instantly went from a frown to complete and utter disbelief.
Stanley understood his shock. Almost everyone had reacted in the same way to the news. “Yeah…but that wasn’t the worst of it. I don’t know the details, but someone wound up dead…and Tommy was found holding the gun.”
“No way! Tommy kill someone? No fucking way!” The words burst out of his mouth before he had fully registered thinking them. The anger he had been keeping at bay all this time was quickly beginning to boil over. Thankfully, Stanley remained calm.
“That’s what we all thought. Until the trial…”
“I don’t care about a goddamn trial! Tommy couldn’t have shot anyone. It’s impossible.” It didn’t matter what anyone said. Among all the things Scott knew nothing of, there were two things he knew for certain: he had known killers and he had known Tommy. The two did not overlap…