Meet the Author: T.A. Brock

Today, we’re sitting down with a zombie-loving writer who will try her best to get under your skin. Enjoy getting to know T.A. Brock and her amazing books that hail from the heart of America.

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You’re the author of THE DEAD OF ASHER series. Share a line/passage with us that the world needs to read from FATAL, which was just released in June. 

So many to choose from… but I guess I’ll go with a super sappy one. *Disclaimer- FATAL is a different kind of zombie book. These guys live amongst unsuspecting humans since they don’t deteriorate until they reach old age. They also eat raw animal meat as opposed to human flesh. I just wanted to put that out there in case anyone got skeeved out by the human/zombie (almost) kissing scene ;)*

“I was wrong, earlier, and I’m sorry. Cori, I’m sorry.” She could never know how much. Words weren’t enough to describe his remorse. Her tears were tearing him up inside. They smelled like the ocean, carried the same sorrow the ocean carried in with each new wave. And when he’d first touched them, his cells had sucked up the liquid just like they would water. But instead of refreshing him, it had seared him down to the soul. It burned, badly. But he would take the pain.

“It’s okay, really. Like I was saying—“

“I was jealous,” he blurted. He wasn’t sure why but he needed to tell her, to explain himself. “I was jealous because you chose your friends.”

Her brow furrowed until there was a little crease between her eyes. “Why?” It came out a broken whisper.

This was the part he didn’t want to tell her because it didn’t make much sense. But he owed her the truth.  “I wanted you all to myself.” Her eyes went wide at that bit of information, her face flaring red—and still, she was crying. He caught the drops with his knuckles as they fell from her cheeks, his skin doing its job absorbing them and making them part of his being. Inside, he felt the burn of her grief anew.

“It can’t be like that,” she said quietly.

He knew that. Oh boy, did he know that. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted it to be like that, but he suddenly did. It was like that conversation with Leiv hadn’t ever happened. As if… he would start pretending, living a lie just to be with her.

Why couldn’t he be normal? Right now, it felt more important than ever. Because if only he was a normal guy…

He nodded because he couldn’t get his voice to work. Whatever he wanted didn’t matter because she was telling him no. And why shouldn’t she. He was awful and she knew it. He’d done nothing to disprove that fact. And most of all, they didn’t make sense together. It was as he’d thought from the beginning: they were ill-matched. Except she wasn’t the problem; he was.

Cori swallowed hard, her tears beginning to dry up. Her face was hot but it was a sweet sensation against his palm. He couldn’t pull his hand away even though it was no longer needed.

“Relationships don’t work like that,” she said carefully, almost like she was afraid to say the words. “If… if we are gonna be…” Her voice cut off leaving him hanging like cat off a tree branch. The word “if” resounded over and over like a chant in his mind. What was she saying? Did she want to be closer to him, the way he wanted to be with her? Did she feel the draw, the pull, like he did?

Oh, how he wished she didn’t. But oh, how he wished she did. Two sides of the same coin. If she flipped it, where would it land?

Grayson knew he should leave right then, before she finished. He should get up and walk out and never ever speak to her again. He was bad. An abomination. And she was sweet and sensitive and… good. She was good, he knew it. He would ruin her if she let him. She was his save after all, it was her destiny. Unless he could make himself stay away from her.    

Looking into her soft blue eyes and hanging on her last word as if it was his life breath, he didn’t think he could. How could he?

Her mouth was parted just a little, warm breath escaping and taking the chill from his skin, their faces were so close. His thumb found her full bottom lip—it was effortless, his hand was already caressing her cheek—and went back and forth over the soft surface. He desperately wanted to taste her lips—watching her eat ice cream had been downright unbearable. But he couldn’t kiss her with his mouth. Not the same mouth that consumed raw flesh. Not the mouth of a Zombie. Hers was too perfect. It would be akin to an angel being kissed by a demon.

There had to be a way. Maybe if he was good too… he wouldn’t ever be like her but maybe he could try to atone for what he was… somehow.

I’ll be better, he thought. I can do better, try harder. When she nodded, he realized he’d said it out loud. But he couldn’t take it back. What had been meant as a silent promise was now a declaration. And really, that was okay because somehow he knew he would always try to be better for her. Maybe one day he would be able to leave her alone—inevitably the day would come when he would have to tell her what he’d become or leave her—but today was not that day.

Just then her eyes fluttered and a shy smile curved her lips up. “Does this mean you changed your mind about being friends?”

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m not very good at the friend thing. It’s why I have such a friend deficit.” He hadn’t changed his mind at all—he had no interest in being her friend. He wanted more.

You’ve been presented with the opportunity to be a best-selling author but can never write again or write forever but never have a bestseller. Which scenario sounds more tempting? 

This is actually an easy one for me. I could never be okay with not writing. Even if it meant I wasn’t a bestseller. I have too many stories in my head, begging to be let out. And I hate to say it, but I’m that person who gives away too many books. I just like the fact that my story’s being told. Sounds cliché to say I’m not in it for the money so I’ll say it like this: It’s not about the money, money, money. Still a bit cliché but now you have the added bonus of Jessie J stuck in your head. SCORE!

If you could live on a college campus and never leave or in a small town but be able to travel, which one would you choose? 

I love to travel so, small town it is.

Okay, how about Ireland or Brazil? 

IRELAND!!! It’s one of my dream destinations. For several reasons: green is my favorite color, it’s cool there (I’m not a fan of hot weather), and who doesn’t love that accent? I mean, come on. Someday, Ireland, we will meet, someday…

Who is your favorite 90’s band (I’m thinking Counting Crows, Blink 182, Hootie & the Blowfish)? 

When Discman CD players first were a thing, I got one for Christmas and it was like, the BIGGEST deal. Along with it came my first CDs: The Cranberries and Jars of Clay. Pretty sure I knew every word to every song on those CDs. I also love/loved Alanis Morissette, Bush, Oasis, No Doubt, and… The Spice Girls. *Cringing just a little* But my all-time favorite 90s band would have to be The Wallflowers. I had dreams of marrying Jakob Dylan.

I love that first Jars of Clay album 🙂 Worlds Apart is an amazing song. 

And what about your favorite comedy on TV (I love The Office and Seinfeld)? 

I like New Girl. A lot. Buuuut I get most of my comedy fix from late night shows, namely, Jimmy Fallon.

Is there anything you’re currently working on? 

Right now, I’m jumping around in a couple of different manuscripts. First priority is finishing up LETHAL, the sequel to Fatal. Also, I’m working on a YA choose-your-own-adventure book that I’m sooooo freaking excited about!  

Who is your favorite author and if you could ask him/her one question, what would it be? 

Today my favorite author is Victor Hugo. Tomorrow it will probably be someone else. If I could ask him one question it would be: Why? Because I think it would fluster him. I can actually imagine the resulting conversation… There would be a lot of laughing on my end and stern looks on his.

Lightning round:

Ocean or mountains? Mountain

Strawberries or blueberries? Strawberries

Snickers or Butterfinger? Butterfinger

Happy or sad ending to a novel? Happy

Beer or wine? Wine

Flying or driving? Flying

Thriller or romance novel? Romance

You’re able to sit down with any president in United States history. Who would you choose, what would you talk about, and would you rather have him over to your house or meet at the White House? 

Abe Lincoln. We have a lot to discuss, he and I. But it’s a secret. All I can say is it’s about his wife, a certain man with a gun, and reasons he should limit his time in the theater. I think these discussions should happen at my place. No one can eavesdrop on us there.

You can wish for one thing and one thing only, not world peace and no more wishes. What’s it gonna be? 

Okay, are you ready… there are people on my facebook feed that spell ‘through’ like this: thur. Not thru, thur. I’m talking multiple people. And they do it regularly, like they think that’s the right way. And I can’t TELL THEM THEY’RE WRONG!!! So, I wish the Correction Fairy would pay these people a visit. She could sprinkle them with her special correction dust that never hurts people’s feelings and then, politely, tell them ‘thur’ isn’t a word. Yes. I wish for that.

Thank you for the most unique answer to that question 🙂

jackson baer, jackson paul baer, the earth bleeds red, pandamoon publishing, what the hell, literary fiction, suspense, mystery, compelling fiction, new author, joyce carol oates, junot diaz, sherman alexie, novel with a twist, corvallis, books set in oregon, suspense novel, mystery novel, lit fiction, the lights will never fade, what the hell book, psychological thriller
Author Bio:
T.A. Brock lives in Oklahoma, where Zombies do not thrive. When not immersed in the world of fantasy writing, she enjoys spending time with her big girl, baby boy, and hubs. Some of her favorite things are coffee (specifically with cream, sugar, and chocolate), music (especially something with a good beat), books (especially paranormal), and Tennis. She despises raw meat and therefore is exceedingly glad she’s human.