Judith Graves reads as much as she writes, devouring at least two books a week. She loves heated debates over character motives...she's been kicked out of several book clubs for just this reason. With her faithful sidekick at her feet--Willow, a yellow lab--Judith remains unfazed by book club drama and is furiously writing more paranormal stories.
Working in a school library, Judith is surrounded by children's and young adult literature (there's no escape!). A singer/songwriter for more than 10 years, she often writes songs about her characters--since they are beasties of the night, this makes for interesting listening.
A firm believer that Canadian teen fiction can be sexy, action-packed and snarky as hell, Judith writes paranormal stories with attitude.
Residing in a northern Alberta community similar to the fictional town of Redgrave, where Under My Skin is set, Judith unhappily endures snow in the winter and runs away from bees in the summer.
Being that it’s Halloween time and we know things go bump in the night…What’s the scariest thing that has happened to you?
When I was a kid, we lived on a military base that bordered both the city and an expanse of farmland. We’d often venture out on that land and explore the little ponds and patches of trees left standing. And always. Always. We’d end up at the house.
A creepy, abandoned house hidden deep within the shrubs and poplars. Typical farmhouse, I guess. Two story. Porch. Nothing fancy – just bare bones. Most of the windows were covered with weathered plywood held in place with rusted nails. Half of the concrete steps leading to the front door had crumbled to dust.
People told lots of stories about what happened in that place. They’re been a fire. People were murdered. A suicide pact. But no one knew for sure.
Only that the house had a weird sort of energy. Like it knew when someone was close by. Like it wanted you to come and stay a spell. To rest. To give in.
We never took the house up on its offer, although through holes in one side window, you could tell others had. Older kids. Braver kids. Stupider kids. We’d peer in and see the red graffiti on the walls. The moss-covered mattress on the wooden floor. The beer cans and fast food wrappers.
But like I said, we never went inside.
Then, one day, they tore the trees down. And the house. Developers, as usual. My friends turned back, disappointed, but I lingered. Staring at the fallen trees, the empty patch of black earth where the house had stood.
And I swear I could still see it. There. Waiting for me to come inside. I ran to my friends and never looked back. Scariest moment ever. Because I had really, really want to step inside. Into a house that wasn’t there.
And I knew I’d never come back out.
What future projects can we hope to see from you next?
I’m thrilled to say that I have a title coming out at the end of October, KILLER’S INSTINCT, co-written with Dawn Dalton. We’re keen to unleash our monster-hunter tale on the world. Here’s the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUK-AsvPv6o
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