When you spend your childhood hiding in notebooks and creating worlds of your own, you inevitably hear some version of the question, "What are you writing?" If you were anything like me, this question made you incredibly uncomfortable.
Deliverance from Sin
Writing is, at its core, a very personal experience. We tell stories to ourselves first, to friends and beta readers second, then maybe, if we're very brave, to a wider audience. But the stories we tell live in us-they are a part of us, for better or worse, and sharing a part of yourself with anyone makes you feel vulnerable.
When we study the classic authors of yesterday, we're often given historical context as to how their life and environment informed the works they produced. To be honest, I never really understood the appeal of writing something even more personal than your run-of-the-mill story. I created worlds to get out of the world I was living in, not explore it in depth. My mind was always a bit more romantic, if not in the literal term then certainly in the term as it applies to literature. Yet as I've gotten older, and perhaps a byproduct of age itself, I've found myself inserting more of myself into my characters-often deliberately rather than subconsciously.
The Sinners & Saints Series, from the start, was a channel I used to explore the theological world I grew up in, as well as reconcile some of the wounds it left behind. I have been, elsewhere, very open about my relationship with anxiety, but what I might not have mentioned was the role religion played in cultivating my anxiety into a truly terrible beast, especially when I was younger. I was diagnosed with OCD when I was nine or ten-the real kind of OCD, not the kind you saw on Monk. And OCD comes with much more than its share of lock-checking and hand washing. Some of the most terrifying thoughts I've had were what I thought fell into an area called Scrupulosity-that is, unwanted blasphemous thoughts. The church environment I was raised in was of the belief that a thought crime was a real crime-he who commits in his heart does so in the eyes of God, yadda yadda-which was, for a kid who couldn't help their thought crimes, devastating. As I grew older and learned more about my condition, I became intrigued with the idea of studying religion more closely. That led to my minor, and what I believe has become a lifelong love-hate relationship with theology and theological interpretation in the modern world, which manifests itself in the Sinners & Saints Series.
This was a more subtle way of writing about something personal. I don't think I even realized until I was more than a couple books deep how personal the Sinners & Saints world is to me. But as personal as the themes are, I had never really gone there with the characters themselves. Sure, all of them have some of me in them, but none were crafted that way intentionally.
That was, until I started working with Varina and Campbell, the heroine and hero from Deliverance from Sin.
As a woman with a mental health disorder, it's hard, at times, to recognize my own strength. We're negative creatures by nature-hardwired to be so self-critical that every perceived error is a failing and no accomplishment is ever good enough. We're told, or made to believe, that tears are signs of weakness, and vulnerability is a character flaw. After all, you wouldn't want to be seen as overly emotional.
When I started creating Varina, she looked much different than the character she turned out to be. She was harder, because I thought you needed to be hard to be strong. She was closed-off, because that's how strong women are so often portrayed. She didn't cry, because big girls don't cry. She didn't feel, and when she did, she ran from those feelings.
That didn't last, because it didn't ring true. Strong women aren't necessarily hard and closed off. Strong women aren't required to shy from their own vulnerability. Strong women cry. These things are not weaknesses. And Varina damn sure wanted me to know it.
I also gave her something incredibly personal. I gave her a deceased father, with whom she'd had a rocky relationship. I made the conscious decision to do this right after my own father was diagnosed with Stage IV Lymphoma. And this relationship with her father is a big part of who she is, just as my own relationship is a big part of who I am. And writing about a woman who has a troubled history with a man she loves as I love my father, as my own father was dying, was perhaps the most personal thing I've ever done. But it was also cathartic, because I saw some of my own strength in Varina. She helped me, in many ways. When she cries for her father in the book, I am crying for mine. When she misses him, I am missing mine. Her father even shared some traits with mine, and that was all intentional. Because writing something personal makes a story stronger-it grounds it in reality the way other things can't.
The thing is, Varina being shades of me was not planned. I didn't get to know her until we started interacting as character and author in the setting of the story. I had always planned, though, to make Campbell-the book's hero-more me. As someone who has struggled with an anxiety disorder most of her life, and especially with most media's highly inaccurate portrayal of said disorders, I wanted to explore in words what real anxiety felt like. Campbell comes into this book wounded from past events, wherein he had to face his own mortality for the first time, and he can't let go of his fear no matter how irrational it is. Writing that sensation was also cathartic, but I likewise worried it wouldn't come across well, because panic attacks in the moment escape all description.
From what my beta readers, my friends, my husband, and my editor said, everything came together well. It also made Deliverance from Sin both the hardest book to write, and the most personal. But because there is so much raw me in it, because I did most of it by design rather than accident…well, I can understand why writing what you know, or interjecting yourself into your work and characters, is so often practiced by other authors. Because the book does feel different.
I feel more attached to Varina and Campbell than any of my other characters. And Varina especially, in being a woman who feels weak but is anything but, left me with this: it's okay to not be okay. There is no one right way to be a strong woman. There's just your way. These are things I thought I knew, but Varina helped bring them home. And for that, I thank her.
About Deliverance from Sin
If she learns the truth about what he is, there'll be Hell to pay.
Demonic trouble always finds Varina, no matter how far she runs. When she learns her late father left her something at their ancestral home, Varina is drawn back to a place she never thought she'd see again.
Ever since the world almost ended, Campbell, Sin of Pride, has been nursing scars both inside and out. Ashamed, he's determined to keep his head down until he's back to his old self. Yet when he learns that Legion, the biblically notorious demon, has escaped, Campbell has a choice-capture it, or advertise how low Pride has fallen.
Varina has been chased by too many demons to believe Campbell is a normal man. Yet she sees herself in his haunted eyes, and realizes he's like her-a demonic-possession survivor. Despite reservations, Varina lets her walls down, and slowly accepts the possibility that she might not have to go through life alone.
Though deception is part of the job, lying to Varina is the hardest thing Campbell has ever done. But as they get closer, and Legion gains strength, the truth is bound to come out. He just doesn't know what it will cost him.
Reader Advisory: This book contains some graphic violence and references to/recollections of physical and emotional child abuse.
About the Sinners and Saints series:
Don't believe everything you read.
In the beginning, there was a garden, two deities, and a woman. Now, there is a world, a woman scorned, and an age-old dispute between two friends that desperately needs to be settled, preferably before the apocalypse.
The Seven Deadly Sins are Lucifer's creation, and he considers them his children. Yet when one of his Sins decides to resign her post, she triggers a series of events that catch the attention of the last person in three worlds the devil wants to see-his vindictive, and frustratingly powerful, ex-wife.
Big J and Lucifer were once close, but a disagreement over the management of Hell, as well as the devil's very bad marriage, created a rift that seemed impossible to reconcile. Yet with Lilith back in the picture, the two deities-aided by Sins, Virtues, demons and angels-are forced to reconsider their relationship. For them, for Heaven and Hell, and the fate of the universe.
Rosalie Stanton Bio:
Rosalie Stanton is an award winning erotic romance author in the paranormal and contemporary genres. A lifelong enthusiast of larger than life characters, Rosalie enjoys building worlds filled with strong heroes and heroines of all backgrounds.
Rosalie lives in Missouri with her husband. At an early age, she discovered a talent for creating worlds, which evolved into a love of words and storytelling. Rosalie graduated with a degree in English. As the granddaughter of an evangelical minister, Rosalie applied herself equally in school in the creative writing and religious studies departments, which had an interesting impact on her writing. When her attention is not engaged by writing or editing, she enjoys spending time with close friends and family.
Exclusive excerpt from Deliverance from Sin:
"We let Legion escape," he repeated at last, pulling himself as far out of his thoughts as he could.
Not far enough.
"Legion escaped as a result of the Seals opening," Pixley replied. "And since you had such success in retrieving the demon last time, Lucifer has nominated you to do it again."
The last time had been a fluke. Legion had gotten the bright idea to possess a lower demon in an effort to leech its power. All Campbell had had to do was open a collection box, and abra cadabra, no more problem.
The last he'd heard, Legion hadn't stopped raging on how easily it had been captured. Centuries of roaming and terrorizing the Earth and its occupants, only to be done in by a pedestrian collection box-a common tool of the trade for Hell Demons, and meant to hold lower Earth demons. The unlucky victims found themselves imprisoned and owned by their hellish counterparts, and released to instigate chaos during natural or manmade disasters. It had been a stroke of luck that Legion had decided to try its hand at possessing a lower demon-even more so that it had followed its host into the collection box.
And there was no way Legion would make that mistake again. It would possess a human this time, and that meant…
The part of Campbell's chest that had been numb seconds earlier jerked, hardening into something closer to fear. He swallowed hard and looked away. "I…that's not a good idea."
"On the contrary," Pixley said brightly. "It is a fine idea."
"I'm on assignment here."
"No, you're not. Gula is, and he is more than capable of continuing the Hannah Barnes assignment unaided."
In his peripheral vision, Campbell saw Gula's enthusiastic nod. Traitor.
"Why me?" he asked.
"Because Lucifer requested it." Pixley tilted her head. "I do not understand your hesitation. You captured Legion before."
"Liberal choice of words aside, the last I checked, the world's not exactly a small place," he said. "And Legion's not the type to announce a master plan. This isn't much to go on."
"Ah, but we have a signature this time around," Pixley replied. "A specific signature to follow, and Lucifer has already done that part for you."
"Any reason Lucifer can't swoop in and do the rest?"
"Because this job is beneath him and I'm pretty sure he has other things to do."
Campbell wasn't quite so convinced, but he knew he'd only attract attention if he protested. Where his brothers and sisters were known to throw an unholy temper tantrum if they were given a task they didn't like, Campbell took the good with the bad and rarely objected.
Pixley studied him for another moment, her eyes narrowed. "Are you well?"
His heart somersaulted. "What?"
"You seem…off."
"I do not."
"I think I'm a better judge."
"From a girl who used to fuck my brother on a regular basis, doubtful."
Pixley's brow furrowed. "Yes, you do seem off. Jumpy as well as defensive. You're sweating too, which is unusual for you." She paused and her frown deepened. "Perhaps this is too much to ask right now. I will explain to Lucifer that given your recent trauma, you are unfit for this assignment. I'm sure he'll understand."
Dread collided headfirst with relief and was chased by crippling awareness that morphed into all-out panic. The part of him that longed to confess wasn't strong enough to outwit or overpower the part that refused to show weakness. His neck, face and chest were consumed in a thick layer of cold sweat.
He couldn't say no. Couldn't. No one could know how weak he was.
No one.
"No," Campbell barked, then tried to cover with a cough. "No. This is fine. I was just…curious."
Pixley looked unconvinced. "Curious."
"About…how we're going to track down Legion. You said we have a signature to follow this time?"
His voice sounded unnaturally high even to him. Pixley's expression went from skeptical to downright worried, which in itself was a frightening prospect. Pixley didn't get worried. In all his years, Campbell had not known the curator to ever display emotion, save where the Registration was concerned.
But for whatever reason, she didn't linger. Instead, she shook her head and continued, "Yes. When Legion was captured before, Lucifer catalogued its specific signature…in the unlikely event that it were to escape again."
"Unlikely or prophetic," Campbell muttered.
"Legion is unlike other Hell Demons. You know this."
He nodded. Unlike was one way to put it. Unnatural was more accurate.
Last he'd heard, there had been no consensus on what Legion was or why it had come into existence in the first place. The best guess was that one of Lilith's experiments had gone weird. In her heyday, Lilith had been the Dr. Frankenstein of new demons, having had a hand in creating most of the creatures that roamed Earth. Hell Demons-those confined to the pit-were beasts of a different nature, but there was no telling what sort of damage she'd done during her brief but eventful stint as Mrs. Lucifer.
Legion's unique makeup made it a harder demon to capture. Honestly, Campbell wasn't sure why Lucifer hadn't just snuffed it out of existence altogether. It would have been the safer gamble.
"We've been tracking it over the past few weeks," Pixley continued, "but it hasn't manifested with any sort of true energy."
"So it hasn't possessed anyone."
"Yet," she said. "We think, based on where its signature has been detected, that Legion is in a weakened state. It seems to be targeting the sites of old confirmed Legion possessions."
Campbell frowned. "That doesn't make sense," he said without thinking, then fell quiet as his brain kicked in.
No, it made total sense. Demonic possessions were rare but horrible occurrences-those like Legion often left an imprint on a location, due to the spiritual nature of forcing one's essence onto a different body. Legion would find it easiest to hide in a place already tainted with its signature. Those places had already been marked, therefore the demon would be harder to detect.
Then Campbell thought of the redhead. Her subtle but very real lingering signature. Old places of possession combined with old victims…
"Shit," he said aloud. "Legion wouldn't be creating a new signature."
"Just amplifying the one left behind." Pixley nodded. "Yes, that was Lucifer's guess as well."
"But the body couldn't last long."
"It doesn't need to last long," she said. "Just long enough. We have yet to uncover all of Lilith's allies. Legion is fully aware that it was supposed to go down with the ship, so to speak, during the apocalypse. Its only hope of survival is finding an enemy of Lucifer's. If it can do that while escaping detection…"
"Then we might have a problem."
Pixley shrugged. "Not an end of the world problem, but definitely an undesirable situation. Hence the reason we need to capture Legion now."
"Using what, exactly? Last time we had a collection box and we were damn lucky it worked."
"We're fashioning another," Pixley explained. "One made specifically for containing Hell Demons. Time will be required, as we haven't had reason to construct such a device since…well, since Mammon betrayed Lucifer, but that was the first of its kind, and we did not anticipate needing one again. In the meantime, however, Legion must not be allowed to possess a host. If it disappears inside human flesh…well, Lucifer is going to be angry and I am not going to take the blame for it."
Campbell offered a numb nod, his mind firing off possibilities, scenarios and solutions too fast to be rationally disseminated, resulting in a large cluster of screaming voices. Resignation joined the inner surge of dread-almost enough to overshadow it, but not quite.
He looked to Gula, who was watching him with uncharacteristic silence.
"Guess this is goodbye," he asked, stalling for time. He turned back to Pixley. "He's going to go nuts without someone to talk to."
"I've managed just fine without you to chaperone my assignments," Gula said.
"That's a matter of opinion." Campbell kept his attention on Pixley. "So…where am I headed?"
Her lips twitched in what looked like an attempt at a smile. Seeing as she could only pull it off while gloating or in full-out villain mode, the movement looked pained and unnatural, but he appreciated the sentiment for what it was.
"Magnolia Cross, Louisiana."
Campbell's heart kicked up.
"No way," he heard himself say. "No fucking way."
Pixley blinked. "What?"
Magnolia Cross. Home of one gas station, a dilapidated cemetery and Rat Trap.
The part he'd been missing, the missing piece he'd refused to consider, slid defiantly into place. In his long life, Campbell had experienced many flukes. Over the course of eternity, coincidences were bound to occur every few centuries. Still, in a world where the odds were literally seven billion to one, where he'd been in beside her- inside her-earlier today, he couldn't believe it.
"What's her name?" he asked hoarsely. He hadn't bothered to learn it earlier, beyond whatever the bartender had called her. The name hadn't mattered then.
A look of genuine surprise crossed Pixley's face. "You know it's a her?"
"Yes."
"Holy shit," Gula said. "Seriously?"
Pixley frowned. "How?"
Campbell shook his head, his heart thundering. "Just… I do. Okay? I just do. Her name?"
Pixley studied him for a moment. "Varina Jefferson."
Varina Jefferson.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah," Pixley said, her tone cautious. "I have a whole file."
She reached behind her and pulled a thick manila folder out of thin air. Campbell seized it the second it was within reach and flipped it open.
A pair of haunted green eyes stared up at him, framed in the soft red hair he'd had his face buried in just hours earlier.
"Varina," he murmured. The name suited her. Unique, fiery and beautiful.
"You know her?" Pixley asked.
Gula whistled.
Campbell jerked his head again. "No." And that much was the truth. "I… No."
"Well, you're about to." She swallowed. "But a word of caution-getting close to her isn't going to be easy."
At that, Gula snickered. Campbell didn't blame him-he nearly laughed too. He would have, were he not stunned stupid. It had been easy enough earlier. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"For starters, she hates all things not-human, and she's developed a knack for killing them over the years."
"So she is a demon hunter," he murmured, more to himself.
Pixley narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Yes and no. As with many possession survivors, she often finds herself the unwitting target of demon attention, so she doesn't stay in one place for long to avoid attracting said attention. She has established contacts throughout the South and along the West Coast with individuals who have sought her particular services in the past."
For a nomad, Varina seemed intent on claiming rights to Rat Trap.
"What's Magnolia Cross to her, then?" Campbell asked.
"Her hometown," Pixley answered. "Really, the town her family founded, and the site of the possession. According to the file, she hasn't been to her ancestral home in years-some falling out with her family."
"But she's back now."
"The family is out of the picture." The curator paused. "As I said, she will not make this an easy task for you, but all signs indicate Legion will be making a move soon. Do what you must to get close to her. Just remember-if she discovers what you are, she is likely to be less cooperative. The area has a signature of its own, but you would be best to come up with an explanation as to yours, should she be able to sense it."
Campbell nodded, his mind dragging him back to the bathroom. To the sensation of her cunt wrapped tight around him, her scent in his nostrils, that lost look in her eyes. He also remembered the way she'd drawn up the second she'd realized he was more than human, and the relief she'd exuded at finding someone else who shared her tragic past.
The lie had been convenient in the moment. Now he'd have to live it.
"I'll make it work."
Pixley blinked. "I know. I will be in contact when the collection box is ready."
Campbell nodded again to show he'd heard, but his thoughts had already moved on. He had no idea how this woman would react to finding him on her doorstep. But at least he had a story he could work.
If he were honest with himself, the thought of seeing her again was not unpleasant. Quite the opposite. And if his job description included staying close to her, he could think of worse fates.