Gypsies bestowed the
curse. A sadistic man unleashed its power.
Gioia Vita, at thirty-four, is not
living the joyous life her cultural name might
suggest. Haunted by an abusive past and tormented by the harsh
illustrations of a cynical world she struggles to bury her secrets and find
serenity in her life. Plagued by a glitch in her vision, she perceives
colors and mystical imagery surrounding people that warn her of their intrinsic
nature. With a fear of old world superstitions implanted into her from an
early age, Gioia finds herself believing in these enchantments. Especially
now, that she is seeing these… colors.
The desire for
adventure in her sheltered life prevails when an acquaintance invites her
back into the subculture of her rebellious youth. Her vision helps her
navigate this tumultuous world few get to experience, the world of 1%ers. An
enclave of brothers, bearing colors that reject normal
society. She unexpectedly finds the warm colors of family, friends and a
new love. Braden Davies restores passion in her heart, but can an
outlaw from a chaotic underground culture heal her wounds? First,
they must conquer the manipulative adversary that haunts them, unearth long
buried family secrets, and learn that sometimes a curse can really be a gift.
Author Bio
G.C.
Nichols is a Creative Director by day, a graduate of Parsons School of
Design, and writer by night. Brought up by parents possessing a strong
respect for the arts she was afforded the freedom to pursue and explore her
artistic abilities in New York City. Developing interests in writing, fashion,
fine art and music led a youthful nature of rebellion to emerge within her.
Placed
on a motorcycle for the first time at a very young age paved the way to a
passion for riding, and into the intriguing world of motorcycle clubs. The
fearless nature and free-thinking ways of this underground culture felt like a
natural place for an artist with curiosities to call home.
Growing
up as a first-generation Italian American offered G.C. the opportunity to learn
about the mystical realm of gypsies and curses, or as she likes to refer to it, Italian witchcraft.
Spending summers in Southern Italy allowed her to interact with these
mysterious characters first hand, their fiery spirit embedded in her mind
forever.
Other
than getting lost in the imaginary worlds her mind creates, G.C. enjoys riding,
hunting, and fishing, with her husband, family and friends. She is happiest
on the wooded acres of serenity they call home in upstate New York,
surrounded by a wild array of entertaining pets.
http://www.gcnichols.net/
https://twitter.com/gc_nichols
Excerpt from Chapter Sixteen:
Resolution
The sun emitted particularly balmy rays
that seeped into my exposed skin and warmed me throughout. Like Mom's chicken
soup on a cold day, it flowed through my body to my soul and healed me. The
wind cooled my face, knotted my long flowing hair, and created pockets of force
between my limbs as it raced against us. We were in flight for the two-hour
ride, and my soul appreciated some much needed freedom. Even though my
sunglasses kept the bright sun out of my eyes, Braden's brilliant metallic fire
captivated me.
We snuck in small rides every day the
fall weather permitted, but this particular Indian summer day was an unexpected
gift received along the Merritt Parkway. The almost eighty degree temperature
was truly out of the ordinary for the end of October. We were going to an ally
club's Halloween party that evening and decided to extend the trip to northern
Connecticut.
There were few times in my life I could
remember being this happy. Waking up to Braden's golden sun almost every
morning for the past few weeks surely made this one of them. I felt safe with
him, not only because of his gleaming rapture that guaranteed he was pure but
also because I could sense it in everything he did. His touch was always gentle,
and he never failed to watch over me. In these past few weeks, I grew to know
him well and love him entirely.
I was still frightened and questioning
everything. What had I done to deserve him in my life? Had I endured enough
hardship to finally find a decent man? Our passion was rising to daring heights,
and I wanted nothing more than to become one with him, but he always held back,
as if making love could risk our bond. Was it only a matter of time before the
devil would find me again and take Braden away?
The gypsies continued to invade my
dreams and fear of their evil nature consumed me. Luckily, I managed to hide
the nightly turmoil from Braden. My brain struggled to comprehend the most
recent nightmare. I found myself wandering back to last night's vision.
"Mom,
can we open the presents now? Please!" I begged my mother.
She
looked lovingly into my eyes and smiled. "Not yet, Gioia. We have to take
care of something very important first."
I
watched as my mother hung bundles of red peppers around the room and wondered
what could be more critical than opening presents on Christmas Eve. Why was she
decorating now? The Christmas tree lit up the otherwise dark room, and the
large nativity set beneath it glowed shimmering white light.
My
aunt poured water into a large, ornate ceramic bowl and then waited patiently,
holding a small pitcher of greenish oil over it.
"Is
Zia Francesca making something special tonight?" I asked, my juvenile mind
always hoping for the next treat. Spending Christmas in Italy meant I would be
spoiled with gifts and sweets typically unimaginable. It was rare we spent the
holidays in Europe and my aunts would cater to my every wish.
"Yes,
but probably not what you're thinking of," my mother answered, chuckling.
"What do you mean?" My voice turned
to a full on whine as I grew impatient.
"Tonight
is a holy night and we're going to utilize the exceptional power we're offered
to say a prayer over you so no evil can ever hurt you. It's a special gift that
Zia Francesca wants to offer you," my mother explained.
"Ti
voglio protegere dal malocchio," my aunt told me in her native language. I
only understood some of the words and looked to my mother for clarification.
"Zia
Francesca said she wants to protect you from the evil eye."
A
sudden chill crawled up my spine and I shivered, almost falling off the high
stool I sat on. Terror treaded wildly over my skin. Immature thoughts clouded
my eight-year old brain allowing my mother's words to send me into utter panic.
Evil? What did I need protection from?
My
mother nodded to my aunt as she made her way across the room to stand near us.
Zia Francesca slowly drizzled the thick, green oil into the bowl of water.
I
counted nine drops carefully placed in the shape of a cross. We all watched
quietly as the small, liquid circles spun away from one another, slow at first,
then gaining speed until the outline of an eye appeared.
"It's
true. She is cursed," my mother whispered, tears forming in her eyes.
"What,
mom? What's the matter? What do you mean?" I begged.
"Gioia,
pay attention! Just do as I and Zia Francesca do." My mother commanded,
avoiding my wide eyes and panicked tone. She made the sign of the cross in
front of me and exclaimed, "Padre, Figlio, Spirito Santo."
"Dammi
la tua mano," Zia Francesca commanded me to give her my hands. She also
began gesturing the sign of the cross over my pale skin.
I
could see the outline of the gypsy in my peripheral vision. She stood in the
window just beyond the Christmas tree watching us. I refused to make eye
contact. My body sat frozen, and terrified from the mysterious ritual my mother
and aunt were performing. I would obey my mother until this nightmare ended.
"Father,
this prayer is being said for Gioia. I pray it works in the name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Spirit." My mother spoke the words quietly, closing
her eyes and lifting her head up toward heaven.
She
continued to chant as a gust of wind swept across the tiled floor. It wrapped
around me and seeped into my pores forcing tears of panic as I shut my eyes in
horror.
"Glory
be to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirt, as it was in the beginning is
now and forever shall be," my mother concluded and grabbed my right hand.
Zia Francesca already clutched my left in a firm hold.
The
warmth of their skin brought on a calm sensation that flowed throughout me. I
finally found the courage to face the gruesome hag staring at me through the
window. Cavernous wrinkles weighed on the corners of her eyes turning them into
slits of darkness. Her voluminous lips curled downward into a scowl only meant
to curse. The multiple strands of colorful beads encircling her neck appeared
to choke her. The sight of her was hideous and I found myself hissing the word,
"Zincara."
My
mother and Zia Francesca jerked their heads toward the window. The gypsies'
outline dissipated into a puff of amethyst smoke, and she was gone.
The bike slowed as we approached our
destination, waking me out of my memory. I shook my head trying to free my
brain from its' unnerved state. Realizing my dreams did nothing but bring on
paranoia, I decided to chase out the crazy thoughts. Braden's gentle soul gave
me hope to believe in righteousness again, and being with him was the most
blissful place in the world. Even if an evil gypsy or the devil came, I would
fight. A surge of adrenaline ran through me as I realized that, in the end, no
one could keep me away from this love.
1. How did you start writing erotic romance?
I had a great love story in my head and wanted to share it
with the world!
2. Plotter or pantster?
Plotter??
3. What are three things you have on your writing desk?
My book! A gold elephant and a Buddha head.
4. Favorite food?
Too many to say one… Mom’s chicken soup, mac & cheese or
homemade Sunday sauce!
5. Tell us a little about your new release. What character
in the book really spoke to you?
“Colors” is an urban fantasy
packed with old world gypsy folklore and the tumultuous world of outlaw
motorcycle clubs. Gioia and Braden’s love for one another
motivates the story. They must conquer a manipulative adversary that haunts them, unearth long
buried family secrets, and learn that sometimes a curse can really be a gift to
find peace in their newfound romance. Gioia’s character really spoke to me. I
can relate to her tumultuous past and the struggle she has with staying
optimistic about her future.
6. I write because ____...
My inner artist demands it of me!
7. What is your favorite type of character to write about?
I equally loved my hero, Braden and heroine, Gioia. They
both showed insecurities but fought hard for their love and showed a great deal
of strength through hard times.
8. What is the sexiest scene you ever wrote?
Yikes! I’m blushing. Writing love scenes are hard for me so
I try to incorporate a huge build up of desire, it makes the reader only want
it more!
9. What advice would you give new authors in the
erotica/romance field?
Keep writing; don’t stop, no matter who says no or what gets
in your way. “Ride or die!”
10. What is next on your writerly horizon?
My next pursuit is
to begin interviewing outlaw motorcycle club members and tell their stories. I
have some intriguing characters lined up and am very excited to get started.
I’m also currently working on Book Two of the Dissension Series, “Brothers”,
the follow up to “Colors”, and hoping to finish the trilogy with “Outlaws” in
the next two years.
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Links:
Author
Bio:
G.C. Nichols is a Creative Director by day, a graduate of Parsons School
of Design, and writer by night. Other than getting lost in the imaginary worlds
her mind creates, G.C. enjoys riding, hunting, and fishing, with her husband,
family and friends. She is happiest on the wooded acres of serenity they call
home in upstate New York, surrounded by a wild array of entertaining pets.
