Hello friend! I am excited to host author Stephanie Caye and learn about her and her book, The Flaws of Gravity. This urban fantasy about Faerie is on my TBR to read. A few months ago, Stephanie had written a detailed post about the cost of self-publishing the book which a number of readers had found insightful. I feel honored to chat with her again.

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Get to know the author: Stephanie Caye

Welcome back to Armed with A Book, Stephanie! Tell me and my readers a bit about yourself!

I live in Montreal, a transplant from the disparate worlds of Michigan and Texas. I’ve been writing novels since I was a teenager and I’m happy to say they’ve gotten increasingly less like soap operas. The Flaws of Gravity is the first one I’ve published. My other hobbies include interpreting cat behaviour for an animal shelter (as well as in my own home), cooking Tex-Mex during blizzards and, since the start of the pandemic, going on long wanders around the city aided by public transit to discover new parks, neighbourhoods and trails.

What inspired you to write this book?

Jude, the main character, is based on the protagonist of a short story I wrote for a college workshop, though at that time she was named Maurie and she didn’t have magical Faerie powers, just a Sphinx cat and a drug dealer’s body in the trunk of her stolen car. I loved writing about characters with supernatural powers, though, so eventually she got some and it went from there.

How long did it take you to write this book, from the first idea to the last edit?

Let’s just say this book could be going away to college at this point in its lifetime. I’m not sure it’s even recognizable from its original incarnation, though, apart from character names. Over the years, I worked on it on and off, flitting from one story to another like an agitated hummingbird. Yet I came back to this one a lot. I’d always think it was finally finished, then put it aside a while and come back yet again with new ideas and improvements. Eventually, I had to buckle down and get a professional editor and some beta readers to help me shine it up and make it sparkle, mostly so I could stop messing with it and let it go out and live its own life!

Do you have a favourite quote or scene in the book that you find yourself going back to?

Not strictly an answer to this question, but during my edits I had to remove what had been my sister’s favourite line, because the scene it occurred in was repetitive and I cut it mercilessly. Problem was, I didn’t have a spot to use the line again because it’s about stealing a car and requires two characters, and Jude only steals a car solo now. It’s become a running joke between my sister and I so I’m trying to find a way to fit it into one of the next books. The line? “Not that kind of borrow.” Watch for it.

One bit I particularly like that did make it into the book is actually included in the excerpt below. I’d been having trouble nailing down Jude’s motivation and reactions to what goes on around her at the start of the book, and these lines between her and Abe popped into my head. It felt perfect—I could hear and see them saying it—and it put me right into the mindset of how she was feeling, which helped me make her reactions more consistent and tightened up the whole book.

He started to offer me a fork, then paused. “Gotta promise you won’t stab me with it.”
“I don’t make deals with Faeries.”
He returned the fork to the drawer and set a spoon beside my plate instead.

You mentioned this is the first book of a series. How many books are there? Do you have ideas for another series or story?

I’m working on books 2 and 3 of Jude’s story—I thought Book 2 was close to done but then I learned too much from my developmental edit of Book 1 and ended up taking it apart. Still trying to put those pieces back together in the right way. At this point I’m guessing Jude could have three or four more book-length adventures. I always have multiple stories going, though, and tend to gravitate toward whichever one interests me most at the time of day I sit down to write. Not great at writing for deadlines. One of these is another urban fantasy book about a woman who’s half-Goblin changeling and fated to end the world, unless a ragtag team including her brother, the vengeful ghost of her roommate, and a mystical creature disguised as a very fluffy cat can save her.

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Book Excerpt from
The Flaws of Gravity

I peered into the house Miranda had revealed, waiting for the scene to melt away and change into something scarier. Magical houses were not standard issue outside Toronto hospital locker rooms—or anywhere.

Before I could decide whether or not to step inside, a hand pressed into my back and Miranda gave me a shove that sent me stumbling forward. In the instant it took to regain my balance, she’d shut the door behind us.

I whipped around to fight my way back out, but a new voice from behind made me bounce back on my heel.

“Well, hell, somebody rubbed you raw.” A man who’d appeared from a brighter room at the end of the hallway tipped a ten-gallon cowboy hat back on his head, sizing me up. “You look like a boiled lobster.”

I moved to put a wall at my back so I could see them both coming, but neither moved toward me. I couldn’t help scanning my arms for a sunburn or rash, but the genes from my Turkish grandmother had ensured I usually tanned rather than burned. Three months in a hospital bed hadn’t left any new colour in my skin. “You need to get your eyes checked, Tex.”

“I’m not from Texas.” The cowboy spoke in a drawl to match his outfit: faded jeans and a button-down shirt with a diamond pattern. “Wyoming.” He came closer and extended a hand. “Abe.”

American. Well, that fit the look and the accent. I glanced down at his hand but didn’t shake it.

“Empathic Faeries typically come from further away than the States,” I pointed out, taking a guess to try and keep what I hoped was the upper hand. “And aren’t you supposed to feel what I feel?”

“Some feel ʼem. I see ʼem.” He confirmed my suspicion, then added: “Human quirk, maybe.”

“You’re human?” The mild humming in my skin had already clued me in that he wasn’t—at least, not fully.

“One quarter,” he confirmed. “Feel better?”

“Not really.”

“I know.” Abe smiled, clearly still reading whatever pictures my emotions were painting on me. “You’re savvier than I expected. Pegged me right off.” He nodded to himself. “Hungry?”

My stomach answered for me, but I ignored it. “No.”

“Shame. I’m making flapjacks.”

This had been a mistake. Chalk it up to the head injury. Outrunning cops or the Consilium would be saner than accepting the ridiculous offer of flapjacks with Faeries. At least it would have been more predictable.

“Thanks but no thanks.” I darted past Miranda and grabbed the front door knob. Yanking it open revealed a blinding white void. I had to turn my head against the light as a rush filled my ears and sucked the breath from my lungs.

Not an exit.

I shut the door, blinking away the wavering dots that lingered in my vision and made me feel even wearier than before.

Behind me, neither Miranda nor Abe had moved. I did catch a knowing look that Miranda cast the cowboy.

“How do I get back to Toronto?” I snapped.

“In good time.” Abe turned toward the doorway at the end of the hall.

The casual dismissal tightened my jaw. I stalked into the closest room off the foyer: a living room with a big fireplace on one side and a picture window on the other. Outside, a suburban street glowed in the pink light of sunset.

That stopped me short. It had been at least two hours from sunset when Miranda had pushed me in a couple of minutes ago.

I couldn’t let Faerie tricks derail me. I grabbed the nearest heavy object—a ceramic vase full of plastic flowers—and heaved it at the window glass.

The vase shattered but the window remained intact. Not heavy enough.

Before I could seize a better weapon, Miranda said, “No need to destroy the decor. It’s not locked.”

Her wry tone already told me it wouldn’t be an exit, but I couldn’t help undoing the lock and shoving the window wide open.

Outside, the same blinding nothingness. The suburban street seemed to be projected onto the glass panes, though it looked unnervingly real, even with the window open. A car drove down the street, moving through each angled pane in turn and disappearing from sight. I peered down over the windowsill and my stomach dropped when there was no down. No up. Nothing.

My muscles shook like over-stretched wires and dizziness leached into the edges of my brain. I needed a chair.

When I turned, Miranda gestured in the direction Abe had gone. As much as I wanted to refuse and plant myself on the dusty carpet in here, it looked like the fastest way of getting the hell out of the Faerie dollhouse was to see what they had to say.

I followed her into a kitchen at the back of the house so sparkling clean it looked fake, like a movie set. Abe had batter already mixed and a skillet on the stove. A couple of browned sausage links rested on a plate beside it. They smelled amazing, all spice and smoke. I held my breath to keep my stomach from giving me away again, swallowing hard and feigning calm rather than showing that my legs were about to give out as I pulled a chair away the table.

Abe had plucked his hat off, tossing it aside on the counter as he moved in front of the stove. Underneath, he was completely bald, his head smooth in contrast to his craggy face. I’d expected tentacles, maybe a second face—at least a badass tattoo. The Faeries who ran around in our world could only take human-ish form through glamour. Easier to operate here if you looked like a human being as opposed to, say, a giant snake.

The cowboy dished three large pancakes onto a plate with the sausage links, then set it on the table in front of me. He started to offer me a fork, then paused. “Gotta promise you won’t stab me with it.”

“I don’t make deals with Faeries.”

He returned the fork to the drawer and set a spoon beside my plate instead.

It took all of my resolve not to swing it at him. Miranda’s presence in the chair to my right stopped me. It was a Consilium rule that nobody took on a Faerie solo, much less with worse odds. Seemed kind of useless to start following Consilium rules now, but two-on-one with my stomach growling and muscles aching wasn’t going to go in my favour.

Abe picked up a second plate from the counter, then looked to Miranda in a wordless offer. When she shook her head, he settled down at the table with it himself.

“What do you want?” I asked, hating the exhaustion that crept into my voice as I tried to steel it.

He cut into his pancakes. “We keeping you from some other important plans?”

“Yes. The plan of getting the fuck out of here and finding a warm beach to lounge on indefinitely.” Couldn’t stay in Toronto without Aubrie’s protection, might as well dream big. “Rio’s supposed to be nice, right?”

“With no money, no passport?”

“I’m resourceful.” I glanced down at my stolen boots. “And not in the mood for riddles. If you’re offering money and a passport to do some Faerie dirty work, just get to it so I can say no.”

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Interested?

Find The Flaws of Gravity on Goodreads, Storygraph, IndieStoryGeek and Amazon.

Thank you for hanging out with us today. Connect with Stephanie on Twitter, Goodreads, Amazon and her website.

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Cover image: Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash