Wednesday, March 12, 2014

The Forbidden Cuisine by Kevin Anthony

Literary Nymphs Interview

Title: The Forbidden Cuisine
Author: Kevin Anthony
Publisher: Self-Published
Genre: SciFi/Horror
Release Date: Available Now 

Do you write in more than one genre?

Yes, and that’s actually what makes choosing a genre so difficult. I’ve literally shopped my book under so many different genres. It makes writing exciting, but when Amazon says you can only pick two genres to list your book, I find  myself having a “WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?” moment.

What if any, is the hardest part of writing for you?

Honestly, character details. I think they simply bore me to death. He has red hair, he has glasses and etc. As a reader myself, I just need to know one small thing about a character before I can picture them in my head. If you say…”He’s buff”, I’ll just slap Channing Tatum’s face on the character and move on with the story.

What inspired the story?

Fast Food, I have a very love hate relationship with the industry. I love cooking but can sometimes devour a Big Mac. I decided to combine my favorite two hobbies, cooking and writing.


“The Forbidden Cuisine Excerpt – Chapter 8 – Church Boy”

Damien strained as he lifted the heavy sandbag over his head. He made one of many trips across the church gym alongside Pastor Abram and members of Abram’s congregation. Damien passed the sandbag to one of the church members outside the gym and the man stacked the bag against the outside brick wall of the building. Damien clutched his lower back and dragged his feet as he made his way back across the gym to the stacks of sandbags.
He plopped down rear first on one of the bags and let out a heavy sigh. “I need a time out,” He breathed.
Pastor Abram approached Damien and stood over him. “Come on Damien; ask the Almighty for more strength.”
“I already did that twice. I think he got annoyed with me asking. I’m drained.”
Pastor Abram rolled up his dark sleeves and tugged at his clerical collar. “Mrs. Otto is still going and she’s seventy.”
Damien glanced at the tiny woman who took her time to drag a sandbag across the gym floor. “She’s cheating.”
“No, she’s being creative. This church needs your help; we don’t want to get flooded by the storm.”
Pastor Abram was here for Damien when he abandoned the apartment he once shared with Ben. The place held too many memories of their love. His mother had turned off all the utilities in her home and had yet to return to Macon. The church shelter had been his best option.
Damien stood. “Alright, I can move a few more.”
Pastor Abram formed a wide smile on his fair-skinned face. “The people of the Church of Christ are thankful.”
“But I can’t stay long. I have to work at the bar tonight.”
Pastor Abram brushed back his sweat dampened, dark hair and scoffed. “You’re choosing them over us?”
“I’m choosing to have my rent covered and food on my table, Pastor.”
“You can always come back to live at the church shelter and work more hours at the soup kitchen. Let those homosexuals be.”
“It feels good having my own place. And working two jobs still pays lots more than working long hours here.”
Pastor Abram raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, but I’m praying that bar is blown away in the storm.”
“Don’t forget my home is on top of that bar.”
“And as I said, the shelter will be here for you. Now, let’s get back to work before they think we’re slacking off.”
Damien turned away from the towering man, grabbed a sandbag and got back to work. He borrowed Mrs. Otto’s technique and after moving five more sandbags called it quits. Pastor Abram was busy boarding up some windows in a hallway, so Damien left without saying a goodbye and headed off to the bar.
Damien made his way by foot through the deserted downtown streets of Macon. The sky was as dark as he had ever seen in the usually sunny coastal town and the winds were so strong Damien lost his balance twice. All the lifting he had done at the church gym and fighting against the wind was slowly depleting his energy. Damien finally made it to work and charged inside of Dirty Betty’s Bar and Grill. He slammed the wooden entry door closed behind him and rested his back against it.
A couple of customers were inside enjoying the hurricane watch special which included half priced beer and wings. They also got to watch coverage of the weather on the flat screen television that was mounted on the brick wall between two boarded up windows. In the back of the bar, Sparkles sat on the bar counter watching the news. He wore a violet cocktail dress, dark heels, glittered eye shadow and his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail that stopped at his shoulders.
Damien slugged over to his boss. “I’m here,” He said as he lazily raised his hand.
“And you’re late. I had to cook those wings myself. I almost burnt my dress.”
“Still, you look nice. Hurricane night looks successful. You might make enough for two nights after all.”
Sparkles pursed his glossy lips. “No matter the weather, drunks love cheap beer. “
“And apparently don’t mind coming to a gay bar to get them,” Damien said as he rested against the bar.
Sparkles smirked. “Cheap beer does wonders. Best thing my dad taught me before I left his sushi bar back in Japan.”
A red haired waiter came up and loaded some beers from the bar on to a tray. “The tips are ah-mah-zing tonight.”
“Serve them until they tip over, Matty. I have taxes to pay,” Sparkles said as he stroked Matty’s freckled cheek.
Matty laughed and nodded as he carried the tray of beers away.
Sparkles focused his green eyes on Damien. “Were you at the church?”
“Yeah, I was helping surround the building with sandbags.”
“I hope the storm blows that place away. How is the evil Pastor Abram?”
“He’s not evil, just behind in the times.”
Sparkles rolled his eyes. “Ugh, the excuses.”
“Anyways, he was busy and is also banking on this storm to do some destruction, specifically to this bar.”
Sparkles adjusted the upper half of his dress. “I don’t know how you can stand the homophobia.”
“It’s tough, but he helped me when I needed it most. Unlike you, I didn’t have to beg him for a job and shelter.”
“True, but I’m not forcing you to lie about who you are just to stay in my good graces.”
“The Pastor has good qualities and bad ones, we all do,” Damien said as he noticed a new waiter serving.
“He tells his church members to love thy neighbor and that’s only because he dictates who the neighbors are in the first place. All that money he’s gotten from writing about his wife’s death is used to buy and bribe politicians. He uses their power to run places like this out of town, raising our taxes to insane heights. The last decade in Macon has been a living hell because of that man.” Sparkles snarled as he stared off at the dining area. “His only good quality is that smile he uses to hide all his bad qualities.”

What are some of your other favorite activities?

Besides writing and cooking, I love Television and Video Games. Currently I’m waiting for Infamous: Second Son to arrive and trying to finish the entire series of Oz. I talk like a prisoner now and go around saying, “Fuck you McManus”. Oz fans will understand the reference. If I can’t say Fuck on here, beep it out.

Where can we find your website?

I host Giveaways and Features often. The Chef’s Special Giveaway is currently running from March 1st-23rd. You can win a free copy of The Forbidden Cuisine and a $20 eGift Card.

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