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The Protagonist Speaks

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Tam Haworth (of Dancing in the Purple Rain, by Judy L Mohr)

Dear readers, tonight we print a confession note from an antagonist. They’ll present quite a different view on the telepath they tried to guard, in world ravaged by pandemics and poisoned by acid rain, where experimental pharmaceuticals are used to genetically engineer the population to adapt to the toxic atmosphere.

If you are reading this, then things have gone horribly wrong. I tried my best to keep Michaella safe, watching over her ever since she was a child. But destiny has a lot to answer for, and my cover will soon be blown. When that happens… Well… The ones in control will try to wipe the memory that I ever existed from her mind. And if they are unable to wipe those memories, no doubt they will turn me into the antagonist of Michaella’s story.

Before it is too late, I need to set the record straight.

My name is Tam Haworth, and for the past twenty years, I have been Michaella’s psychiatrist. For the past ten years, I have been her handler, for the lack of a better term. It was my responsibility to ensure that Michaella was never able to fully control her abilities. I knew, just like the Pregutor knew, that if she gained full control over all of her faculties, there would be no stopping her. However, we needed her to help us keep what little control we have over the others like her.

Some of them are… shall we say violent? It is in their personality to dominate others. Michaella, on the other hand… Her heart is pure. She is caring, though lost. All we need to do is ensure that she is given a reason to fight. At that time, she will volunteer to be our champion—but a champion against what?

I have tried to explain to them that we have nothing to fear. She is the next generation—our last hope at reclaiming the Earth’s surface. We can no longer live under the false environments of the domes. The technology to keep the systems running is failing. If we are unable to find a way to live outside, the human race will die.

However, they have taken the experiments too far. And they have kept their secrets for too long.

The Pregutor has recommended that Michaella’s involvement become more active. They have recommended that she be moved into STAR.

I do not know how much longer I can prolong the inevitable. If she is given the medications that is given to all STAR… No, it is not even worth thinking about. Instead, I pray that she continues to favor the calmness of purple. I know she still has that purple stuffed cat that her mother gave her when she was born. And every time I see her purple hair, it brings a smile to my face—though I can never let the smile show.

The others can never know that I can still see what they cannot. Instead, I wear my white, embracing everything about it. I must remain in control for as long as I can—even if the control is just a façade.

Only moments before I sat down to write this message, I followed the Pregutor’s orders to send Michaella to one of the outer sectors of the city. No doubt, she will perform her duty admirably, and another threat to the Pregutor will be gone.

However, the Pregutor does not know that I have also sent another courier to the other side of the city to set into motion a chain of events that will eventually bring the Pregutor’s unfeeling control to an end.

I have chosen to sacrifice one that is very close to the child that I watch grow. I regret that such an action was necessary, but I have very few options left.

In a few hours, there will be no turning back. Events will need to unfold the way Michaella sees fit. I know that my actions will mean that my life is forfeit. No doubt, the Pregutor will choose Michaella to be the one to remove me from the equation, because I have become the threat from within.

There will be many who will see me as the evil mastermind behind everything that is about to happen. But I am doing this for the sake of the future.

They need to be set free.


Kiwi Judy L Mohr is a writer, developmental editor, writing coach, amateur photographer, and a science nerd with a keen interest in internet technologies and social media security. Her knowledge ranges from highly efficient ways to hide the bodies through to how to improve your SEO rankings for your websites. When she isn’t writing, editing, or doing something within the local writing community, she can often be found with a camera in her hand enjoying the world around her—no doubt scouting for locations to hide the bodies. (Shh… Don’t tell anyone.) Follow her crazy adventures on her blog (judylmohr.com) or on Instagram (@JudyLMohr).

You can find Tam Haworth on the pages of Dancing in the Purple Rain.

Browse our archives for past interviews, or follow the site by email (bottom-right) to know immediately when your new best-book-friend makes an appearance.

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Jean René Joseph de Lorraine and Alison Mitchell (of Next in Line, by Donna Marie West)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a young woman recovering from the death of her mother, and the mysterious French man she met on her way. They are here to speak about the unlikely circumstances that brought them together, and about making choices that could affect not only their own lives and families, but the future of the entire world.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Alison: Nothing special here. I was born and raised in New Haven, Connecticut, and I still live here with my dad. I haven’t traveled much—at least not yet—but I hope to in the near future.

Joseph: I was born in Carcassonne, France. I went to school in Scotland, Switzerland, Israel, and Paris. As a wee boy in Scotland, I learned my English the hard way. I’m now studying at Yale University here in New Haven.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

A: Sure, I had the usual toys—dolls and stuffed animals and such—and I loved horseback riding. I used to go riding all the time with my mom (she takes a moment to settle herself at the mention of her mother, who passed away a year ago). I need to get back into that.

J: I’ve always played football—uh, you call it soccer here—and I still play at Yale. I also like to ride (he looks fondly at Alison). Perhaps we should do this together one day soon.

What do you do now?

A: I took a year off school when my mom died, but now I’m at the University of New Haven in the psychology program.

J: I’m in my second year of international law at Yale. There was a fire in my house, so I’m currently refurnishing it (he pauses here and I feel he’s keeping something back). Alison was kind enough to invite me to stay with her and her father until my house is ready.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

A: (looks at Joseph). I’ll let you answer this one.

J: Ah, Dieu. Where to start? My best friend was killed, my house set on fire. I was kidnapped. I escaped and was hit by a car. This is how I met Alison (he smiles). These past months have been quite a trial for both of us.

Continue reading “Jean René Joseph de Lorraine and Alison Mitchell (of Next in Line, by Donna Marie West)” →
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Lieutenant Jameson (of Through Jaded Eyes, by Ryan McClellan)

Dear readers, tonight we bring you the antagonist from a world where fear is the ultimate weapon, one man’s rebellion could change everything—or destroy it all.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Before the tragedy, I grew up in Manhattan. The streets were riddled with peasants, drifters, and the like. I always pitied them. I eventually signed up for a classified doctrine that would help me pay my rent. Little did I know, it was nothing short of a brainwashing experiment. I once  saw a movie, before The Great Degeneration, about a man named Jason Bourne, who underwent a similar story: I was told that I was to forget my own name, and it took a while before I realized that I needed to join the TRITE Movement, which indoctrinated me into combat. The rest, as they say, is history.

Did you have any favorite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

When The Great Degeneration occurred, and I cannot say I fully understand what happened, I was left on the streets. I recall a drifter handing me a vial of a compound known as LSD. This, unfortunately, was my only toy, and then all went blank. Three years later, I woke up in the midst of a world that had changed. Manhattan was now enclosed by a great wall, and TRITE ran the streets. Once again, my memory is foggy, but I do remember the fear I felt when I shot my mother and father. It was the day I swore off fear, and began to climb the ranks of the TRITE Movement, where I soon became a Lieutenant.

What do you do now?

Well, my friend, I am dead. Whether I like to believe it or not, after the death of Admiral Sathers in a car explosion, I rose to the ranks as the new leader of New Manhattan. There was a boy named Daniel, who I later found out had escaped the encompassment of the wall. For now, I will wallow in shadow, until the bombs drop once more, and I am rebirthed. From there, I shall continue to seek revenge on those who hazed me. I do not know when, but I know my body is preserved. I will find a way to live again…

What can you tell us about the escape of Daniel Sathers?

When word got out about the escapee, I had no choice but to hunt him down. Exiting into The Outskirts beyond the wall, I hunted that boy, Daniel, as he was a catalyst. He was the first to ever deny The Sickness, or what some call: “fear.” He found his way into a forbidden land, and he met a former TRITE Officer named Donnie, who seemed to be an accomplice. The chase ended in a bloody battle where the Twin Towers once stood, and Mile 9 was, unfortunately, where I decided to turn back and head to the city again. The only thing is, by the time I got there, rebellion had begun. I will forever remember the bullet that cost me my final breath. Thankfully, TRITE has ways of bringing the dead back. I will await it.

Continue reading “Lieutenant Jameson (of Through Jaded Eyes, by Ryan McClellan)” →
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Byron (of the Vampires and Spies series, by Taggart Rehnn)

Dear readers, tonight with us is an undead space-time traveller, who likes to hunt monsters, explore worlds, and do some light archeology in his spare time.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I was conceived in the altar of a blood god in Mexico, born in a castle in Northern Provence, and spent my life in ICUs, protected and controlled by my paternal grandmother, Countess Chloé, the matriarch of our family.

My parents, both archaeologists, were rarely home. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t conceive. So they traveled a lot, and became workaholics. But then, alien ‘visitors’ only Chloé ever saw, told her how my parents could have a child. My parents did it, and it worked. From then on, Chloé made everyone follow their instructions. Since ‘the visitors’ said I shouldn’t be ‘eugenized’ in utero, I was born with severe congenital disorders.

Beside our castle in Provence, we had many vacation homes, but I spent more time intubated in clinics and ICUs than enjoying any of that. So, after reaching adulthood, pumped full of any drug known to man or monkey required to do it, I traveled far and wide, and became a ‘French Indiana Jones’.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Not favorite toys per se, but a sort of playhouse the size of a hangar, representing the 42 tasks ancient Egyptians believed a soul must perform to get into their ‘Paradise’. There I felt both scared of, and protected by, Egyptian gods—scared I might offend them if I did something wrong, and sheltered from a world where I was a bullied weakling with mild Asperger’s.

Fond memories from trips all over the world with Chloé, I have too many to count. My parents died when I was in my teens, and Mamie Chloé when I was in my early twenties, leaving behind a bevy of lawyers and wills—and Severian, the ‘real Dracula’s grandfather, who kept our family’s fortune in tiptop shape, even after everyone on Earth thought I was dead and gone, buried alive during an expedition.

What do you do now?

I hunt down monsters, explore worlds, and work as an archaeologist in my spare time. Since I shall live forever and often travel through space-time, I guess I’ll keep doing it.

My gradual transformation, molting like an insect, from one kind of undead to another, seems now complete. At least, I hope it is. Each time I feed, the resulting massacre makes the news; and, with each molt, those massacres get bigger and gorier. But there’s someone who should know how to control this: Ukko, an Ancient who left Kemet (the world where I became an undead) for Earth about a thousand years ago. Since we must find him to defeat our nemesis, I hope he will help me with this as well.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

‘The Visitors’ tells the story of my life, my mysterious disappearance and my first years in Kemet, when I became this ‘creature’. But my life’s story starts with ‘Freer of Souls’, which describes how my family and Severian prevented the Apocalypse when my parents were still working hard to conceive me—alas, in vain. ‘The Visitors’ comes after ‘Freer of Souls’, ‘Catatumbo’ and ‘Vyrus’, followed by ‘The Revenants’—the story of our arrival from Kemet and our fight against ‘varjugga’, a ‘dark energy demon’ that fled our world. We were never able to destroy it, and I’m not sure we can trap it either. That’s why, although we’re still fighting it, we need Ukko. Alas, he’s now in stasis, slowly dying. If ‘varjugga’ finds him first, it will create an army of enslaved humans and undeads, conquer Kemet, and end all life everywhere—your ‘Apocalypse’.

Continue reading “Byron (of the Vampires and Spies series, by Taggart Rehnn)” →
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Reverend Evan Wycliff (of his eponymous mystery series, by Gerald Everett Jones)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a reverend with an astrophysics background, who keeps running into situations that require a sceptic’s investigative skills.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I spent my boyhood in farm country—Appleton City, Missouri. It’s flat land in the heart of the state, north of the hills and the sinuous-shaped bodies of water known as the Twin Dragons – Truman Lake and Lake of the Ozarks. These are Bible-believing folk. When I was young, the area was sleepy, mostly family farms. In the years since, corporate interests have bought up huge tracts of land, and farming on a small scale doesn’t pay. Employment is better in the south, where the lake supports jobs serving the tourist industry. Branson is Missouri’s version of Nashville.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

My fondest memory of my childhood is my friendship with Bob Taggart, a boy of my own age. We hunted and fished together. Our faithful companion was his dog Brownie, who was in fact a succession of mixed-breed mutts to which he gave the same name. He pranked me a lot, thinking himself clever. One time, he took me into the basement of his father’s pharmacy and dared me to open a jar of what looked like disgusting medical samples and take a bite. I did, then he admitted it was fruit preserves. It was Bob’s dead body I found in the first novel, Preacher Finds a Corpse.

What do you do now?

In my teens, I had intended to enter the ministry. I studied at Harvard Divinity, then dropped out when I learned too much about Christian church history. I then undertook astrophysics at MIT. No answers there, either. I returned to the farm and got part-time work as a credit investigator for the local auto dealership and also as an occasional guest preacher. I later became pastor of the Baptist church, and because I have a curious mind and investigative skills, people come to me with problems no one else has any interest in solving. Because I was also trained as a skeptical scientist, some people think I’m an agnostic.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

The fourth novel in the Preacher Evan Wycliff series is Preacher Stalls the Second Coming, released on March 5, 2024. A crazed scientist knocked on my door with a bizarre warning – the Deep State may be planning to fake the Second Coming of Christ with advanced virtual-reality technology. Meanwhile, a faith-healing evangelist was luring poor and homeless people to a religious retreat with promises of ample food, then exhorting them to prepare for the End Times by starving themselves to death. I couldn’t ignore these unbelievable stories when a young woman from my church disappeared inside the cult leader’s farm.

Continue reading “Reverend Evan Wycliff (of his eponymous mystery series, by Gerald Everett Jones)” →
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Amber Yu (of The Bonehead Resistance, by Narelle King)

Dear readers, tonight with us is an ordinary Australian citizen who found herself embroiled in extraordinary events. After her son is taken hostage, she must race from leafy suburbs to the dusty outback, confronting merciless soldiers and terrifying monsters.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I grew up in north-west Sydney. My parents have lived in the same small brick house in Eastwood since they immigrated from China, a couple of years before I was born.

They had this great backyard full of fruit trees. I used to climb the trees and make myself sick eating the fruit. My mother was always tearing her hair out trying to get me to do homework, but I just wanted to be outside.

A few years ago they sold half the backyard to a developer who owned a couple of properties next door. He whacked an apartment tower on them, so now they only have a small vege patch, and nothing grows well because it’s always shaded.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any treasured memories?

I spent hours jumping on our trampoline. This was in the 90s, so there was no padding or safety nets or anything, if you weren’t careful you’d land on the springs or the metal bars. One of my cousins fractured her leg falling off it.

When I was a teenager my friends and I would lie on it and talk for hours.

What did you think when you saw the Boneheads for the first time?

I was in shock. Just that morning Adam and I had been laughing at the rumours about the PM working with monsters. We thought it was a joke.

And the Boneheads were terrifying. Those black pits they have for eyes – they’re like something out of a nightmare. I watched them gun people down in the street. I’ve seen a lot of death since then, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop having nightmares about that.

Continue reading “Amber Yu (of The Bonehead Resistance, by Narelle King)” →
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Phil (of The Rose, by PD Alleva)

Dear readers, tonight we print an overheard conversation between a human protagonist and a millennium-old cephalopod, discussing vampires, aliens, and alien vampires.

Phil, standing on a floor made of water, watched as the atmosphere cracked in front of him. Watched as the crack raced to the right and left. Behind the barrier water tumbled into the space from far away and high above, racing towards the barrier, and rising high overhead, ten feet above him. It was when the water settled to a calm flow that he saw the famed giant cephalopod, Artemis. His tentacles pushing through the water to the barrier between him and Phil. His eyes, large and round and bright white with a black dot for pupils, watched Phil with a stare Phil assumed was both suspicious and intrigued. Phil understood he had to come, but the why behind the reason he was never told. His hands, clenched into fists, shook by his side. He had more dire circumstances to tend to, and this meeting boiled his blood. Having to take part in an interview with Artemis was a waste of time and time was not on his side.

Artemis floated in the water, assessing, scrutinizing, and scanning Phil. When he spoke, his voice was carried across the water and echoed through the chamber where Phil stood, garbled and liquidly was his voice.

Artemis: Did Robyn tell you why I’ve requested your presence?

Phil: Robyn speaks in riddles, so no. (He paused, watching Artemis and how his lips curled into his mouth. Phil cleared his throat). But I assume it’s because of the glimmer and the change in the Akashic record. Robyn is quite disturbed by this change. Do you know who caused it?

Artemis: I have my suspicions. (He pushed forward, closer to the barrier as if the closer proximity would allow him to stare into Phil’s thoughts). Perhaps you already know.

Phil (with a slow shake of his head, his mouth agape): I… I have no idea who changed the record.

Artemis (pushing back, his tentacles flapping in the water): Let us see your mind then. Allow your thoughts to go free. I see you’ve blocked your thoughts from telepathy. Release the barrier. If you are innocent as you as claim than allow me entrance. (His tentacles pointed to Phil’s right). Project your thoughts to the wall. I want to see the past through your eyes. Show us your youth. Where you were born. How you were raised.

Phil (Staring at the ground, gritting his teeth. He turned to the wall, watching as the liquid barrier changed, projecting his thoughts on the watery screen. Saw his birth and the vampires surrounding him and his mother): I was born on an island. Born into slavery.  My mother the same and hundreds of others. Forced to endure, to work in the mines searching for minerals and gold. Forced into bondage, slaves provided for torture. Both Drac and human alike indulged in the desecration of children. Forced to reproduce to maintain their slave numbers. My mother was a beacon of hope during my time there. Unfortunately, she was murdered by the Drac vampires before I was rescued by Robyn.

Artemis: How did he know to rescue you? And after, what did Robyn teach you? What was living like?

Phil: I don’t know how Robyn was able to rescue me. You’d have to ask him. All I know is, I kept my eyes focused on the light, just like my mom had told me. And then he appeared. Took me to the underground where I was raised by him and away from normal society. It wasn’t until I was eight years old that I discovered the human population living above ground. Saw something called a television and on that television were two humans I had seen on numerous occasions on the island. But there on the island they would pat each other on the back, as if they were best friends. But on that television, those same two men were pretending to be enemies. Robyn had said they did so to create confusion and division among the people. A needed commodity for the elite to keep their stranglehold over the population.

(He stepped closer to the wall, watching himself as a child, being trained by Robyn). From what I was told, my education was very different than most other humans. With knowledge and training within science of mind concepts, telepathy, telekinesis, quantum mechanics and alchemy. Including a comprehensive history of our species and our planet, Earth, untold to the humans above ground. I was taught the power of energy, frequency, and vibration. How the universe is a recycling pattern of energy and how the dominant frequency within that vibration slithers into the consciousness of all who live within its vibrational hold. That the balance between the vibrations rages on, and how we, Robyn’s people, were the keepers of that balance. Should the scales tip to far in one favor, the universe can be destroyed faster than the speed of thought. We fight to keep the balance, with the understanding that in order for the universe to evolve peacefully the correct mix of these two polar opposite vibrations are required, with the light capturing the dark in its embrace and not the opposite. Because dark energy has no restraint, it only wishes to consume and that consumption can lead to total annihilation. But perhaps that is what the darkness desires, to destroy the light and remake the universe into darkness.

We lived peacefully and in quiet solitude, except when Robyn called on us for special missions. It was then that he taught me the sacred martial arts of Kobudo Tonfa, fighting with the blades, and the power behind the rose manipulation offering the ability to change chemistry with a thought, move objects with my mind, and suspend gravity. The rose is an all-powerful resource if used and wielded properly.

Continue reading “Phil (of The Rose, by PD Alleva)” →
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Darroll Martock (of The Psychopath Club, by Sandra Bond)

Dear readers, tonight we have with us a budding serial killer, a member of a self-styled psychopath club. He’s here to tell us about life, high-school, and the ability to move between alternate realities.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

Er, no. It was as boring as all hell to live through and it would be as boring as all hell to make you read what some book I had to read in school called “all that David Copperfield kind of crap”. I was born; I was given a stupid name, with an even stupider spelling that nobody ever gets right; I grew up; I reached my teens; my parents divorced and my mom moved to the Midwest. There are probably some good parts of the Midwest. I live in a town called Muldoon. It is not one of those. It’s tiny and it’s cold and it’s boring. I want out so badly.

What do you do now?

I go to high school with an assortment of jocks, fools, inbred assholes and garden-variety losers. You read  books, right? Then you probably went to school with similar types.

But I hope you aren’t like me in other ways. No easy way to say this, so out with it: for years I’ve wanted to kill people. Made plots and plans. They might have worked, too. Only I’m too chicken to follow any of them through.

Or I was.

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

Okay, here it gets weird. I ran my car off the road and suffered a brain injury. I deserved to have killed myself, but they saved me. Only now… I have this weird thing that happens, where I slip between alternate universes. (Except, guess what, Muldoon still sucks in every single one of them that I’ve seen.) I can’t control when it happens or where I go. I’ve found myself in universes where I died in that accident. People see me and think they’re seeing a ghost. It’s fun to play along with that.

Continue reading “Darroll Martock (of The Psychopath Club, by Sandra Bond)” →
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Pamela Williams (of May It Please the Court, by Daniel Maldonado)

Dear readers, tonight with us is a private investigator. She’s here to tell us about being drawn into a court case starting with the severe injury of a mother at her daughter’s sweet sixteen party — followed by her even more suspicious death.

Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?

I’m a military brat.  My father served in the US Army Special forces.  So I’ve lived in various places in the US, Europe, Latin America and Asia.

Did you have any favourite toys as a child? Any cherished memories?

Following in my father’s footsteps, I also served in the military and ultimately became a private investigator when I retired. 

What do you do now?

As a private investigator, I work with law firms and individual clients.  Sometimes, it’s the run of the mill divorce case spying on cheating spouses and catching them in the act.  But when I work for law firms, it can vary depending on the assignment.  I may have to spy on the firm’s clients to ensure they’re on the up and up.  Or I may have to investigate and interview witnesses to a murder scene.  It all depends.  That’s why I love my job.  It varies day by day. 

What can you tell us about your latest adventure?

In my latest adventure, I work with the Mendoza law firm to find out why a hotel guest unexpectedly injured herself by falling down the stairs.  Complicating things is she ultimately died under suspicious circumstances.  Inevitably, I have to investigate in various states including, Las Vegas, NYC, and Phoenix, Arizona.

What did you first think when you when to saw the scene of the accident?

The luxury hotel premises were lush and beautiful.  I wished I was staying there myself rather than working.  But what I found there, wow, it changed the whole investigation.  I’m skilled but sometimes luck plays a big part of it.

Continue reading “Pamela Williams (of May It Please the Court, by Daniel Maldonado)” →
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