Leave a review on Amazon by April 10 to be entered to win a 7" Kindle Fire HD!
Winner will be drawn April 11 directly from Amazon Reviews via live video and posted right here at the VBT Café Blog.
Interview With A. Robert Allen
Welcome! Ready to ride?
GR: Tell us about your latest
release...
My novel, Failed Moments, poses the
question…what if the only way to survive your life is to go back in
history and right the wrongs of two other men’s lives? The main
character, Patrick Walsh, finds himself in this precarious position
as he goes back in time to the French Caribbean in 1790, just before
the slave revolt, which created Haiti, and 1863 NYC during the Draft
Riots. Tackling race relations from a unique perspective, Failed
Moments is a thought-provoking adventure through four centuries that
questions the measure of a man not by his decision to do no harm, but
his willingness to act on what is right.
GR: What inspired you to start your
writing journey?
The writing journey
responsible for this book began a few years ago I embarked on a very
detailed study of my family history. I was able to track my family
tree back hundreds of years and
uncovered roots that were white, black, Catholic, Protestant, and
Jewish, and the seed of a story began to grow. Failed
Moments is a fictional account of the
exploits of my ancestors during racially charged periods in the past.
GR: Who have been some authors that
have inspired you along the way?
For light reads, I’m a
sucker for a John Grisham legal thriller. I was deeply moved by
Khaled Hosseini’s, A
Thousand Splendid Suns,
and The
Kite Runner.
In my own genre of historical fiction, I started out reading just
about everything written by James Michener, and now enjoy many of
Edward Rutherford’s works.
GR: What is one piece of marketing
advice you can give to new authors?
Take the marketing as seriously as you
take the writing. Find people and organizations with knowledge and
experience to help you along the way.
GR: If we went on the ride of our
life, where is one place you'd like to be sure to stop along the way?
The ride of my life would be a
cross-country adventure and I would love spend some time in Texas. I
here so much about it, and I’ve never had a reason to head that
way. I’m particularly interested in seeing Houston, Dallas, and
San Antonio.
GR: Would you be afraid to ride on the
back of my bike?
No. As long as you wouldn’t be
afraid to have me as a passenger! I’m a pretty big guy.
GR: What can we expect from you in the
future? Any new projects?
Well before I begin my
next novel, I plan to continue focusing on spreading the word about
Failed
Moments.
I’m very pleased that I was able to reach the #1 spot for
Historical Fiction during my recent KDP promotion. I’m doing all
that I can right now to get the book out in the public eye, and I’m
hoping your readers will give it a look.
Thank you so much for chatting with me
today. I wish you the best of success and to always leave your hair
blowing in the wind!
Book
Genre: Historical Fiction
Publisher:
Createspace
Release
Date: March 8, 2015
Book
Description:
Tagline:
What
if the only way to survive your life is to go back in history and
right the wrongs of two other men’s lives?
Book
Description:
1790,
French Caribbean: biracial plantation owner Patrice Beaumont is known
as a “kinder” slave master, but his trusted friend reminds him
that is no cause for pride. He claims to be committed to ending
slavery, but his actions don’t back-up his words. Is being the
“best of the worst” all he’s capable of?
1863,
New York City: Giant Irish street fighter Patrick Allen is days away
from battling it out with a similarly oversized Black fighter, when
the Draft Riots ignite dangerous racial conflicts around the city.
Never one to take sides outside the ring or join a fight he can’t
win, he steers clear of the angry mobs. So when he stumbles on a
lynching in progress, who can expect him to do anything more than
look away?
Modern
day, New York City: Patrick Walsh, a day trader by occupation and a
daydreamer by disposition, sits alone on his terrace trading his
portfolio, and staring out at the city skyline. Alone feels
right…always has, and he’s fairly certain, always will.
Besides
having a similar name and a proclivity to make tragic mistakes, what
mystery ties these men together?
Excerpt:
Chapter
1
The
Boigen
“NO
PICTURE. NO name. No background,” he whispered to himself as he
realized none of this missing information mattered. In his
experience, first impressions made all the difference. Details
offered nothing more than preparation for yet another first date.
This time, however, roles would be reversed. She would need to find
him. Patrick Walsh chuckled as he settled back into the snug couch
inside the lobby of the elegant Boigen Hotel on the West Side of
Manhattan.
The
Boigen had to be new, Patrick thought, as he flipped through a
small corporate brochure. The hotel, which was south of his old
Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood and in the vicinity of a few favorite
hangouts, boasted ”Classic Swedish Charm in the Heart of the West
Side.” What an excellent tagline, he thought.
A
beautiful chandelier in the center of the lobby, situated directly
above a multi-colored table, demanded Patrick’s attention. The
light passing through the table’s colored shelves reflected off the
marble floor and mesmerized him. A large bouquet of white tulips
occupied the small, purplish tabletop. Perhaps amethyst, Patrick
thought. Below that were three shelves: The first level, ruby, the
second, emerald, and the third, sapphire. Noticing the colored flecks
of light on the floor again, he looked up. Where have I seen this
fabulous chandelier? In a magazine? A catering hall? Or somewhere
else?
Patrick’s
mind turned back to his social life as he contemplated the newness of
a first date and the anticipation of a second, both acting as a
lovely build-up to the third date–the highlight of most of
Patrick’s relationships, when the increasing ease that came from
being somewhat acquainted was roughly equal to the remaining sense of
the unknown. Third dates provided Patrick with a brief and welcome
opportunity to smile. Fourth dates, however, brought on the
inevitable question: “Where is this going?” or the new phrasing
he’d heard twice this past year, “What is your end game?”
Whatever the form of the question, it always marked the beginning of
the end for Patrick, although he preferred to think of it as the need
for yet another new beginning. She’s late. Where is she?
Patrick
continued to survey his surroundings and tried to relax. The one
modern aspect of the hotel, a full-length glass wall, featured three
oversized doors with pearl handles, which provided access to Tenth
Avenue. The Limerick Liar, one of Patrick’s favorite Irish bars,
became visible in the distance as a large delivery truck pulled away
from the front of The Boigen. How could I have missed this hotel?
Two
distinct groups of people assembled in the lobby. The larger group
clustered around the ornate table with the white tulips. Tourists,
Patrick guessed as he detected a sense of anticipation when a big
luxury charter bus pulled up to the Tenth Avenue entrance. The second
group in the lobby lacked the excitement of the first and displayed
more control, as they sat in a collection of chairs about ten feet
away from the doorway that led to 20th Street. Patrick didn’t know
what this group was waiting for and realized he had no theories. That
was unusual. This game of analyzing the behavior and motivations of
strangers relaxed him when he got anxious, which was often. Patrick’s
blood pressure eased as he continued to watch.
The
tourists left the lobby and headed toward the charter bus on Tenth
Avenue and the more sedate group departed onto 20th Street. Patrick
found it peculiar–actually rude–that each of the tourists peeled
a single petal off a tulip as they passed the bouquet and left for
the bus. He was tempted to say something to them, but realized as
much as it bothered him, he would not want to be seen in any kind of
a confrontation when his date arrived. First impressions dictate
the outcome, Patrick reminded himself. A young hotel employee
quickly replaced the ravaged bouquet as if it were a standard duty.
Patrick smiled. Good service standards, well executed. It was a
tightly run ship.
The
Boigen lobby was almost empty and all of the energy that had filled
the room a few minutes earlier exited with the two groups. His date
was late. As Patrick glanced again at his watch, he felt a tap on his
shoulder and then a brief, searing pain just below his right ear. The
extreme discomfort forced him to hunch over while pressing his hands
against either side of his head. After a few moments, he straightened
up and tried to regain his composure. He was unsuccessful. So much
for first impressions – Patrick turned to meet his date.
“Good
evening, Patrick, it’s been a while,” she said.
He didn’t
know how to respond.
“Patrick. This must be upsetting to you, but
we need to talk.”
His heart was pounding and beads of sweat
started to gather on his brow.
Patrick
loosened his tie and took several long, deep breaths. Finally, he
stam- mered, “I don’t understand. The last time...the last time I
saw you...” His words failed him.
She
smiled gently. “I understand your confusion, but before I answer
your questions, I have one for you.” She paused. “Do you remember
the last time we were together?”
“Yes.”
“I
thought you would. So when was it?”
Patrick cleared his throat
and muttered, “April 11, 2008,” as he examined his surprise
visitor who hadn’t changed at all in the past five years. How
could this be? Patrick asked himself. April 11, 2008, was the
day she died.
Author Bio:
A.
Robert Allen is a longtime New York City college administrator with a
lifelong passion for writing. When he traced his family tree back
hundreds of years and uncovered roots that were white, black,
Catholic, Protestant, and Jewish, the seed of a story began to grow.
Failed
Moments is
a fictional account of the exploits of his ancestors during racially
charged periods in the past.
Find
out more about the author and his works at his website:
http://arobertallen.com/.
Author Links -
Website &Blog:
arobertallen.com
Facebook:
anthonyroballen
Twitter:@anthonyroballen
