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Marina’s ornery, difficult, and proud of being a bitch. Shaped by the tragic circumstances surrounding her adolescence, she tried to hide from love, but no matter how hard she hid, it found her.
Nate Conroy knows the real Marina even better than she herself does.
Can he introduce her to the woman she should be and can he help her embrace the creature that is night to Nate’s day?
Find out in this 141,000 word whopper!
Nate Conroy knows the real Marina even better than she herself does.
Can he introduce her to the woman she should be and can he help her embrace the creature that is night to Nate’s day?
Find out in this 141,000 word whopper!
An Interview with...
'Marina'
So, Marina, where were you born?
I was born on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, twenty or so minutes from Sheridan in Montana.
It’s a weird place, because despite its flaws, no matter where you go or what you do, you’ll never forget Blue Ridge. That’s its name. One hundred and twenty years ago, a Denison decided there were too many dumb fucks in the world and that there needed to be a place for the people with smarts. He created the ranch as a by-line for a commune of folk with extraordinary genius.
There, he started his eugenics project. The theory being that if smart person A reproduces with smart person B, they’ll produce genius C.
He wasn’t wrong. Blue Ridge is still going strong. And it’s still incomparable to anywhere else on Earth.
Even if I wish that weren’t the case.
Where do you go and what do you when you’re angry?
I try not to get angry, although sometimes, it’s easier said than done. I truly believe that anger is a waste of energy, but life has a tendency of biting you on the ass from time to time and you simply can’t hide from it.
On the rare occasions I do get mad, I tend to explode. Curse, rile at fate, generally stomp my foot. In my own way, I guess I’m an extrovert. It’s embarrassing, but usually, the explosion occurs in front of somebody. I’m not the sort of person who can contain their emotions.
Is your refrigerator filled with moldy cheese and a few cans? What’s on your bedroom floor and nightstand?
No, no moldy cheese. It’s usually full. In New York, I had a delivery service that brought groceries to my door. I don’t eat a lot and in times of stress, I eat even less. But it’s easy for me to lose weight, so I have to make sure I eat regularly or I turn to skin and bone.
When I was a teenager, I married a boy who died soon after. His name was Jimmy. After his death, my weight dropped dramatically. You could see my ribs and the nodules of my spine as well as my pelvis... it was horrible. But I just couldn’t eat. I wasn’t anorexic, I wasn’t doing it to myself. I just had no appetite.
My parents grew concerned and put me on a strict diet to get me back to a normal weight. It’s one of the only things they ever did for me. Ordinarily, they passed me off to the staff, but not this time. I left Blue Ridge soon after, though. Escaped to the city, away from all the memories.
And on my bedroom floor?
Nothing. I’m pretty neat, when I want to be.
What is one memory you have from your childhood kitchen? What smell do you associate with that and why has it stuck in your brain for so long?
One memory I have isn’t a particularly nice one. I remember Mrs. Brownley, our housekeeper, had made this God awful chicken casserole. Even now, the idea of it, the thought of the smell makes me want to gag. I’ve always been particular about food and my appetite has always been small, even as a kid, so when I tried this casserole, I just couldn’t eat it. It was revolting! She made me sit there and eat every drop. Even after it was cold.
Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. God, she was horrible. I don’t think she had a kind bone in her body.
What do you do on a weekend? Work? Or play?
I like to do a mixture of things. In New York, I try and hang out with my best friends, Mona and Eddie. We go shopping or just chill in a café. Mona’s not as affluent as Eddie or I, so we try and treat her. She’s pretty stubborn though. Doesn’t like charity, so we have to think of ways to pull the wool over her eyes. It’s fun.
They’re the two people in my life who are my family. More so than my mom or dad ever were. I’d die for those girls.
What’s your most treasured possession?
I have a few, actually. I tend to hoard stuff, if I’m honest. I try to be a minimalist, because I prefer a clutter-free zone, but it’s against my nature.
I have a photo frame with my grandparents on their wedding day. I remember them so well, even though they died when I was seven. My granddaddy fell off a horse and broke his neck. My nonna, well, she died two months or so after. I think it was of a broken heart; my father scoffed at the idea, but I still believe it.
Then, I have Jimmy’s wedding ring and my own in a small box.
Both the frame and the rings are physical memories of the worst and best times of my life.
Which living person do you most despise?
I don’t have it in me to despise anyone. It’s such a strong word. Hatred eats away at you and in the end, you’re a hollow shell. It’s best not to give a damn. In fact, the less damn I give, the more likely it is I’m not fond of someone.
What is your greatest regret?
I try not to have too many regrets; again, they’re not good for you. But, loving and losing Jimmy. How can I do anything but regret his passing?
In a way, he shaped me into the woman I am today. Not in a way I think he’d be pleased, I’m sad to say. Losing his love didn’t change me for the better… it made me hard and cold. At least, it did on the outside. With Mona and Eddie, I’m anything but. Same with Nate. I guess the outer shell is protection. I need it, otherwise I’d get hurt way too easily.
How would you like to die?
When I’m really, really old. Still a bitch, a pain in everyone’s ass and surrounded by the people who love me. Actually, the question made me think about my nonna’s death. She died after her husband’s passing – they’d been together for nearly forty-five years! I want that kind of love for myself. I’m surprised by how much.
What is your motto?
Never give up. With your dying breath, give it your all and if it hurts, tough shit. Do what has to be done.
Okay, there are a few there, but you get my drift! ;)
I was born on a ranch in the middle of nowhere, twenty or so minutes from Sheridan in Montana.
It’s a weird place, because despite its flaws, no matter where you go or what you do, you’ll never forget Blue Ridge. That’s its name. One hundred and twenty years ago, a Denison decided there were too many dumb fucks in the world and that there needed to be a place for the people with smarts. He created the ranch as a by-line for a commune of folk with extraordinary genius.
There, he started his eugenics project. The theory being that if smart person A reproduces with smart person B, they’ll produce genius C.
He wasn’t wrong. Blue Ridge is still going strong. And it’s still incomparable to anywhere else on Earth.
Even if I wish that weren’t the case.
Where do you go and what do you when you’re angry?
I try not to get angry, although sometimes, it’s easier said than done. I truly believe that anger is a waste of energy, but life has a tendency of biting you on the ass from time to time and you simply can’t hide from it.
On the rare occasions I do get mad, I tend to explode. Curse, rile at fate, generally stomp my foot. In my own way, I guess I’m an extrovert. It’s embarrassing, but usually, the explosion occurs in front of somebody. I’m not the sort of person who can contain their emotions.
Is your refrigerator filled with moldy cheese and a few cans? What’s on your bedroom floor and nightstand?
No, no moldy cheese. It’s usually full. In New York, I had a delivery service that brought groceries to my door. I don’t eat a lot and in times of stress, I eat even less. But it’s easy for me to lose weight, so I have to make sure I eat regularly or I turn to skin and bone.
When I was a teenager, I married a boy who died soon after. His name was Jimmy. After his death, my weight dropped dramatically. You could see my ribs and the nodules of my spine as well as my pelvis... it was horrible. But I just couldn’t eat. I wasn’t anorexic, I wasn’t doing it to myself. I just had no appetite.
My parents grew concerned and put me on a strict diet to get me back to a normal weight. It’s one of the only things they ever did for me. Ordinarily, they passed me off to the staff, but not this time. I left Blue Ridge soon after, though. Escaped to the city, away from all the memories.
And on my bedroom floor?
Nothing. I’m pretty neat, when I want to be.
What is one memory you have from your childhood kitchen? What smell do you associate with that and why has it stuck in your brain for so long?
One memory I have isn’t a particularly nice one. I remember Mrs. Brownley, our housekeeper, had made this God awful chicken casserole. Even now, the idea of it, the thought of the smell makes me want to gag. I’ve always been particular about food and my appetite has always been small, even as a kid, so when I tried this casserole, I just couldn’t eat it. It was revolting! She made me sit there and eat every drop. Even after it was cold.
Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. God, she was horrible. I don’t think she had a kind bone in her body.
What do you do on a weekend? Work? Or play?
I like to do a mixture of things. In New York, I try and hang out with my best friends, Mona and Eddie. We go shopping or just chill in a café. Mona’s not as affluent as Eddie or I, so we try and treat her. She’s pretty stubborn though. Doesn’t like charity, so we have to think of ways to pull the wool over her eyes. It’s fun.
They’re the two people in my life who are my family. More so than my mom or dad ever were. I’d die for those girls.
What’s your most treasured possession?
I have a few, actually. I tend to hoard stuff, if I’m honest. I try to be a minimalist, because I prefer a clutter-free zone, but it’s against my nature.
I have a photo frame with my grandparents on their wedding day. I remember them so well, even though they died when I was seven. My granddaddy fell off a horse and broke his neck. My nonna, well, she died two months or so after. I think it was of a broken heart; my father scoffed at the idea, but I still believe it.
Then, I have Jimmy’s wedding ring and my own in a small box.
Both the frame and the rings are physical memories of the worst and best times of my life.
Which living person do you most despise?
I don’t have it in me to despise anyone. It’s such a strong word. Hatred eats away at you and in the end, you’re a hollow shell. It’s best not to give a damn. In fact, the less damn I give, the more likely it is I’m not fond of someone.
What is your greatest regret?
I try not to have too many regrets; again, they’re not good for you. But, loving and losing Jimmy. How can I do anything but regret his passing?
In a way, he shaped me into the woman I am today. Not in a way I think he’d be pleased, I’m sad to say. Losing his love didn’t change me for the better… it made me hard and cold. At least, it did on the outside. With Mona and Eddie, I’m anything but. Same with Nate. I guess the outer shell is protection. I need it, otherwise I’d get hurt way too easily.
How would you like to die?
When I’m really, really old. Still a bitch, a pain in everyone’s ass and surrounded by the people who love me. Actually, the question made me think about my nonna’s death. She died after her husband’s passing – they’d been together for nearly forty-five years! I want that kind of love for myself. I’m surprised by how much.
What is your motto?
Never give up. With your dying breath, give it your all and if it hurts, tough shit. Do what has to be done.
Okay, there are a few there, but you get my drift! ;)
