Dying Day

by Kory M. Shrum

  She’d love to hear from you on Facebook, Twitter, or her website, where she regularly posts giveaways for book-crazed readers like you.

  Bonus Content

  Thank you so much for preordering my book! Preorder sales are marvelous for an author. Apart from leaving a review for this book and recommending it to everyone you know, preordering is the third most helpful thing you can do to support an author.

  So thank you! You’ve helped me more than you know!

  In return, I’m including more than 45,000 words of bonus material here—it’s like a bonus book—and this material is just for you, to show you how much I appreciate your continued support.

  You’ll find interviews, deleted scenes, short stories and more in the following pages. Please note that in some of the material (for example, the original Dying for a Living manuscript excerpt) is not edited. I wanted you to see the original version, warts and all, because I thought that would add to the authenticity of its “behind the scenes” nature. We can both appreciate how far Jesse has come—together!

  Without further ado, enjoy!

  Post-Finale Interview

  You asked and I answered!

  I curated these questions from my Kory’s Reader Army group on Facebook. If you are interested in joining our closed group—all booklovers welcome— send me a request!

  Who’s your favorite character that you’ve written?

  Lou Thorne, the heroine of my Shadows in the Water series is my favorite of all time. But if you mean from the Dying for a Living series—it’s Captain Gloria Jackson. And interestingly enough, I love Lou and Gloria for the same reasons. They’re both survivors. If the hellmouth were to open and I was to get sucked into a hell dimension, I’d want one (preferably both) of these badasses watching my back.

  Who is your favorite character of all time?

  Wow. This is super hard. This is like asking me to declare my favorite child…in front of my children. I don’t have any children, currently, so I’ll tell you that I love Sherlock Holmes an awful lot, as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch.

  Who is your book boyfriend/girlfriend?

  Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court (purrr)

  Have you ever thought up a completely amazing bestseller idea, then forget it?

  Probably. I often have AMAZING ideas and then forget to write them down. I’ve tried to eliminate that possibility by always having a notebook on me, but I don’t always. Or there’s the chance that I lose the notebook…which has also happened.

  What is the longest session you’ve ever sat writing?

  Six hours, words without stopping. But a girl has to pee sometime…

  Do you miss your characters between writing?

  Not the characters, no. Because they’re with me all the time. I can call them up for a convo day or night. But the story, yes. If the writing is going well and I have to step away from the page for any reason, I’ll find myself itching to get back.

  Have you ever killed off a character but then changed your mind and rewritten the scene?

  Not yet…

  Did you know how you were going to end Dying for A Living when you started writing it?

  I did! I had the ending planned out before I ever finished writing the first book.

  Can you make a TV show happen?

  I wish! Who do we have to call? How many signatures do we need for a petition? Seriously. I think Jesse would be great as a TV show. Think about how funny (and gross) it would be? Somebody make this happen…

  Do you have any writing rituals or specific conditions that need to be present while writing?

  I make a pot of tea. I eat some chocolate while the kettle is on. I find a large comfy blanket and then…

  This is going to sound weird but…I have to put my earphones in. Music doesn’t have to be playing, though I like it when it is…but I certainly have to put my headphones into my ears. Something about this announces to my brain that it’s time to put words to the page.

  Did you know how the overall story for the Dying series was going to play out before you started writing, or did you come up with everything as you went along?

  I only knew the beginning and the end. The end of the first book was also pretty clear to me, but volumes 2-7…totally on the fly!

  Do you ever let your dog paw away at the keyboard and translate the random key presses into story ideas?

  I don’t. But this is an intriguing idea. Perhaps this is how we unlock the secrets of the universe…

  How do you deal with writer’s block?

  I’ve been told that there is no such thing as writer’s block if you’re a professional writer. For example, waitresses don’t get “waitress block” or trucker’s “trucker’s block” or even teachers “teacher’s block” etc. If you have a job to do, you show up and do it. Even on the days when you REALLY REALLY don’t want to, and I’m sad to report that those days do come…

  Where do you get your ideas?

  E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E. Just about everything that happens becomes an idea. Yesterday, I checked my mailbox at the college where I teach and found a note in there. That turned into “A college professor returns after a leave of absence to find a menacing note in their mailbox” idea… No, my note wasn’t menacing. It was an invitation to a fall picnic, which turned into “Fall picnic massacre results in 28 dead faculty members…” You see where this is going right? Just about everything I do is a story idea waiting to happen. I just try to pick (and develop) the most interesting ones.

  How and where do you write?

  How: On a MacBook Pro laptop, using WORD. Where: On the couch in my office, usually snuggled under a large, fluffy blanket, pot of tea beside me, and a snoring pug in the vicinity. Bonus is there’s chocolate on hand.

  What’s your favorite color?

  Ooo, that’s tough. I like a lot of colors. Heather gray, carmine red, or seafoam green are right up there though.

  Who is your favorite author?

  Another hard one! It’s a tie between Stephen King and J.K. Rowling (including her Robert Galbraith books). Finalists include: Neil Gaiman, Margaret Atwood, Wislawa Syzmborska, Ruth Ozeki, Grace Lin, Leigh Bardugo, Rainbow Rowell, Anne Rice, Sarah J. Maas, Ursula K. Le Guin, and so many more…

  If you could who would you write a crossover story with? Angela Roquet—and we already did! Dream fulfilled. You’ll find a copy of that story in this bonus material section. Other fun writers I’d love to work with include Stephen King, Neil Gaiman and J.K. Rowling.

  *

  SPOILER ALERT! The following questions were specific to Dying Day and were asked by my early reviewers and proofreaders. If you haven’t finished reading Dying Day yet, come back later.

  Is this truly the end for Jesse?

  Yes. The Jesse-Ally story arc is complete. As far as I’m concerned, they will continue to live together, happily, until the inevitable heat death of the universe.

  It seems as though Jesse and Ally are in their paradise.

  Yes, yes they are.

  Do you have plans to continue to work with this more?

  Nope. I’m wrecked their lives long enough, don’t you think? They deserved their happy (?) ending and all the peace they can stand.

  Gloria drew Rachel and Brinkley in her picture of Jesse’s paradise. Are they really there too?

  Yes. Basically, everyone is either on one side of the gate or the other. Maisie, Gideon, Gloria are on the Earth side. Jesse, Ally, Gabriel, Brinkley, Azrael, and Rachel are on the other side. Anyone with bonds to Jesse (bonds via love or loyalty) have their own separate paradise within the same dreamscape. For example, Brinkley has a little bar where he drinks, plays darts and chats with his old buddy, Peaches. And Rachel lives in one giant, endless mall. Think: Mall of America. They can come to Jesse’s beach house whenever they want… and she can visit them too because it’s all on this side of the gate and basically it’s there because Jesse loves them…if that makes sense.

  So is it heaven then?

&n
bsp; Not exactly. Think of it more as endless possibility.

  At the end of the book Maisie has developed a new power…

  …yes.

  …so can we expect a spin off?

  I certainly left it open for one, didn’t I?

  Come on! Will we ever hear more about Maisie and Gideon or not? Will Gloria continue to save people?

  Calme-toi! Yes, yes. I can see more adventures in store for Maisie, Gideon, and Gloria. There’s still a lot to work with there and they’ve already started “talking” to me, which is a good sign.

  The bad (?) news is I don’t plan to write that series right away. I have a few other books in mind that I’ve wanted to write, but that I put on the backburner so I could finish Jesse’s tale. But now that her story is done, I want to write those books.

  But yes, I left it open so that I could come back to Maisie and crew. One day.

  What about Jesse’s brother, Dan?

  Perhaps, perhaps. Though admittedly his voice isn’t as developed (eh, loud) in my head as Maisie’s or Gloria’s.

  While it would be cool to leave Gabriel and Michael’s true identity to our imagination, I’d also like to know what happened in their world/time to get them fighting over ours…

  *evil grin* The thing about the “angels” is we aren’t supposed to really understand them or their motivations because we’re worlds apart Get it? WORLDS APART! Oh, I kill myself!

  Who broke Eve out of jail?

  Michael.

  And what happened to her?

  Once she was detained by Jeremiah’s people she was questioned and then returned to police custody. Shortly after a psychological evaluation, she was deemed insane and moved to an asylum.

  How the heck did Lane end up on the tundra?

  Lane went to Chicago per Jeremiah’s instructions and while there, volunteered to join the crew who was headed to Antarctica to face off with Jesse. Lucky for him, she spared his life.

  So will we see more of Lane too?

  Maybe a passing cameo, since he is still in Nashville, which is Maisie’s town now. But he won’t be a major player in Maisie’s series, no.

  What happened with Nikki? I was rooting for her and Ally, damn you!

  Don’t let Jesse hear you say that! She’s very temperamental, you know. And don’t worry about Nikki, she’ll be fine. She quit working for Jeremiah shortly before Gideon put a bullet between his eyes and she started her own personal security company. It’s a lucrative endeavor. The girl has moo-lah. And she’s employed some of the people she trusts the most from her Tate Tower days. It’s great money and she’s surrounded by people who love and respect her. She does miss Ally, no doubt, but about five years after Jesse closes the gate and saves the world, she’s going to run into Dr. Evelyn Gray again… *wink wink*

  Was Natalie’s death a hate crime?

  No. It was simply the wrong place at the wrong time. Natalie worked as a social worker and went to a dangerous home late one night to check on one of her charges. Drunk fathers, domestic violence, and guns don’t mix. Natalie was caught in the crossfire.

  If Jesse or Caldwell weren’t chosen as partis, who would most likely become the apex?

  I think Rachel would have ascended. She had what it takes.

  Ally, how do you feel knowing if Jesse didn’t replace you in the very first book, your last words would’ve been “That’s redundant, ungrateful ingrate.”

  Ally’s eyebrows go up. “Well. I could’ve said much, much worse…”

  Preview of Shadows in the Water

  Prologue

  “No, no, no.” Her daughter’s hand shot out and seized Courtney’s slacks. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Jesus Christ.” She tugged her pants from Louie’s dripping grip and shoved her back into the tub by her shoulders. “What is it with you and water? It isn’t going to kill you. You won’t drown! And I have to finish dinner before your father gets home.”

  Louie’s chest collapsed with sobs. “Please. Please don’t go.”

  “Stop crying. You’re too old to be crying like this.”

  Louie recoiled like a kicked dog, her body hunching into a C-curve.

  God almighty, Courtney thought as shame flooded her. What am I supposed to do with her?

  The illogical nature of your daughter’s fear doesn’t negate the fact her fear is very real, the therapist had said. Dr. Loveless must have repeated this a hundred times, but it didn’t make these episodes any easier. The fat-knuckled know-it-all had never been present for bath time.

  Most ten-year-old girls could bathe on their own. No handholding. No hysterics. No goddamn therapy sessions once a week. And somehow this was supposed to be her fault? Why exactly? Because she’d gotten pregnant at eighteen?

  No. She did everything right. She married Jack, despite her reservations. He was too young, uneducated, and a dreamer. Triple threat, her Republican father called it.

  She read all the pregnancy books. She quit her managerial position at the insurance company and stayed home with Louie, practically giving the girl her undivided attention for the first five years of her life. If she was guilty of anything, it was over-attentiveness.

  But Courtney didn’t believe for a second this was her fault.

  It was Jack’s.

  Jack was the one who insisted on renovating the upstairs bath and then insisted his friend do the renovations. Three years. Three years it sat unfinished and oh no they couldn’t go to another builder because Jack promised Gary the job. Jack and his misplaced loyalties. What did it get them? Bum friends who always borrowed money and three years with only the clawfoot bathtub to share between them.

  Things worth having are worth waiting for, Jack had said.

  This philosophy worked for a DEA agent like Jack, someone who had to track criminals for months or years, but Courtney had never been good at waiting. She preferred what her alcoholic father had called immediate gratification.

  Within a week of switching from the shower to the clawfoot tub, Louie’s episodes began. After three long years, Courtney felt she’d had more than enough. God, it would be wonderful to shove a valium down the girl’s throat and be done with this. She wanted to. God almighty, she wanted to. But Jack had been firm about pills. Courtney loved Jack, but goddamn his self-righteous “drugs are drugs” bullshit. Any half-wit knew the difference between valium and heroin.

  You will have to be patient with her, Mrs. Thorne, if you want her to get through this without any lasting psychological damage.

  Apparently, the therapist didn’t know a damn thing. The damage had already begun to show. Louie not only feared water now but dirt also. The child who used to come in at night covered head to toe in grass stains and palms powdered with pastel sidewalk chalk, now crept around as if playing a constant game of The Floor is Hot Lava. This morning, Louie had burst into tears when Courtney asked her to pull weeds from the hosta bed. Even after putting her in coveralls and peony pink garden gloves, the girl had whimpered through the task, ridiculous tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Now, hands on hips, Courtney stared down at her hunched, shaking daughter. She could count the vertebrae protruding through her skin. She’d grown so thin lately.

  It could be worse, she told herself. She could have a child with quadriplegic cerebral palsy like her book club buddy Beth Rankin. Would she rather have a kid who screamed in the bathtub three or four times a week, or a man-child who had to be pushed in a stroller everywhere and his shitty diapers changed and drooling chin wiped?

  Courtney forced a slow exhale through flared nostrils and pried apart her clenched teeth.

  “Okay,” she said in a soft, practiced tone. “Okay, I’m here. I’m right here.”

  She knelt beside the tub and grabbed a slick blue bottle of shampoo off a shelf above the toilet. As she squeezed the gel into her palm, Louie still cowered like a beaten dog, head and eyes down.

  “I’m sorry,” Courtney said, her cheeks flushing hotly. “But it’s hard for me to understa
nd this fear of yours.”

  The girl’s teeth chattered, but she said nothing. Only one of her eyes was visible from the slate of black hair slicked against her head.

  Courtney massaged the soap into her hair. Thick white bubbles foamed between her knotty fingers, her skin turning red from the pressure and steam. Her gentle massaging did nothing to relax the girl.

  “Isn’t this nice?” Courtney asked. “I’d love it if someone washed my hair.”

  Louie said nothing, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

  “You have to lean back now.” She trailed her fingers through the gray water. “So we can rinse.”

  Louie seized her mother’s arms.

  “I know.” Courtney tried to add a sweet lilt to her voice, but only managed indifference. Better than angry at least. “I’m right here. Come on, lie back, baby.”

  She thought baby was a nice touch. Wasn’t it?

  But Louie’s chest started to heave again as her head tipped back toward the soapy gray water.

  “Breathe, baby. The sooner we do this, the sooner you can get out of the tub.” Courtney hoped the girl wouldn’t hyperventilate. That would be the fucking icing on the cake. Dragging her wet body out of the tub would be hell on her back, and she’d already had her valium for the night. She’d risk taking another, but she knew Jack counted them.

  As the back of Louie’s hair dipped into the water, her golden eyes widened. Her fingers raked down Courtney’s arms as she clung tighter. All right. It only stung a little, and it would be something to show Jack later when she complained about his lateness.

  It was your turn for bath night and look what happened. She might even get away with a second glass of wine at dinner sans lecturing if the marks were red enough.