1.) Quickly, give us the title and genre of your book and a 30-word or less tagline:
When 16 year old Dash goes to summer camp, he sees a beautiful ghostly girl in a mural. One night, she pulls him into the mural, where they bond and fall in love. He finds out that she’s bound in servitude by a demon, who marries her off to an even stronger demon.
Can Dash rescue the girl before she is married off? Or will she suffer in death, as she had in life?
2.) Who is your favorite character and why?
I would say Dash is, because he’s the teenage boy that becomes a man.
3.) If you could change ONE thing about your novel, what would it be? Why?
4.) Give us one interesting fun fact about your book or series:
The novel was inspired by a classical Chinese short story.
5.) How can we contact you or find out more about your books?
People can add me on facebook at Jason W. Chan or email: email@example.com
6.) What can we expect from you in the future?
Tons of love stories.
7.) And now, before you go, how about a snippet from your book that is meant to intrigue and tantalize us:
He realized he wouldn’t be able to sleep.
So Dash wandered around the campground aimlessly, passing the giant pine trees, the lake splashed with moonlight, and the vast football field.
There he was. A lone figure meandering around in the dark immensity.
He stopped and looked around him. He was aware of how alone in the field he was. Not a single living thing in sight.
The boy began to shake, then cry. He sobbed until he could not anymore.
A slow low note rang in the air. Dash looked up. It was so faint that he thought he had hallucinated it, but, no, wait, there it was again.
A guitar. The tune was melancholic yet attractive. It sounded like someone grieving. And it made him want to join in.
He wiped away his tears and moved toward the source, arriving at the entrance of the camp. The music stopped.
He looked around. Where did the music come from?
He looked up.
Painted in bright blue letters, a wooden sign proudly proclaimed Camp Blue Mountain.
Next to the sign was the mural that he saw earlier that day. Mist was very strong in this part of the camp, swirling around the mural.
The moonlight illuminated the centerpiece, a girl in the mural, the most gorgeous girl Dash had ever seen.
Sitting on the branch of an enormous oak tree, she was holding a ratty-looking guitar and she looked like she was about to play it.
Her hair, tied in a ponytail, was a chestnut brown, bordering on black, and was streaked with subtle hints of light brown.
Her copper brown eyes stared right at Dash, giving off a tinge of sadness, disappointment.
In the background was a river.
Beneath the girl, a single word was painted onto the mural: Shaylee. Below that was an inscription, the kind that people would carve on park benches and tables proclaiming that they were there.
This one read: S.M + B.K = LOVE. It was surrounded by a carving of a heart.
Dash turned his attention back to the girl, who looked around his age. She was in a black dress, an evening gown, as though going to her prom.
He was intrigued by her. Who was she? Who commissioned the painter to create this mural? Why was she the centerpiece?
Dash looked at the word again. Shaylee.
“Shaylee,” he said in awe.
He gazed at the girl, who was stared back, transfixed on him. The moonlight intensified on her, making her glow. The glow flickered, then brightened, then returned to normal.
Staring at her, he realized that she was the only human figure in the mural. He reached out a finger and traced the outline of her head. Maybe she would understand how he felt.
The scent of lily flooded his nostrils. He looked around, but there were no flowers in sight.
The wind picked up, whipping Dash in the face. It caused some of the mist to vanish.
He turned away, but he struggled to maintain his gaze on the girl.
He could now make out the features of her face. He admired her verdant green eyes. She reminded him of the girl he kept seeing in his dreams.
As he stared, something strange happened. He thought he saw her eyes dart down, then back up again.
Dash took a step back, one hand pressed against his chest.
Her eyes were now back to staring at him, as though they had not moved at all.
His instinct told him to whirl around and race back to his cabin.