Gloria & Audrey Harchar

Note from Gloria: Audrey and I are working on our trilogy. In the meantime, check out my books at gloriaharchar.com. I have three paranormal romances and one historical romance. Or you might be interested in the inspirational romance I wrote under the pseudonym of Audrey Chadwick, called The Glock & The Bible, (in ebook format only). Below you will find out a little about both of us…

Audrey:

Hi! I’m Audrey Blair Harchar. Mom admired Audrey Hepburn, and I’m honored to be named after such a beauty. My dad wanted to name me Hillary, and though I love the name, I’m very happy with my own, more unique one. Oh, and Blair! I’m crazy about my middle name, and wish I could go by it, but I can’t give up Audrey. You see that I have a dilemma (not really! ).

I’m attending Oklahoma State University and live with my brother, Chad, who is 13 months younger than me. We get along, and play Wii about every other day for an hour or so with his friends (I love Wii Resort’s archery, and no, it has nothing to do with my name). Chad and I were always pretty tight, but there was a time that he would beg me to play and I would refuse so I could read. Now that I have to read all the time for college, I find I want to play when I have time (I haven’t been able to play World of Warcraft in, like, a month in a half :’( haha). It’s surprising that life can switch around like that.

Speaking of life, I was born in Long Beach, CA, but I didn’t live there very long. I’ve been in Oklahoma nearly all my 20 years of life. I love the unpredictable weather here. I’ll never forget one time in my early childhood, I watched the rain travel up the street of my neighborhood. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought it was the most amazing thing in the world, that gray wall of water moving over the morning lit, lazy homes. And just like any kid would do, I jumped out in the street, and raised my face to the sky and started singing some song about raindrops and gumdrops, catching the water in my mouth after each verse. I still do that sometimes, to the dismay of my friends.

I just love the little things in life, like: flowers, laughter, babies, the tilt of a head, a wisp of hair, grass, fog, fireflies, duct tape. Any kind of light amazes me, too. In the morning, I revel in the feel of the gentle warmth of the sun. I used to have a window in my bathroom (and I miss that pleasure now that I live in an apartment) but I would watch the strips of yellow run across my arms and shoulder, then close my eyes and feel my body soak in the warmth for later use. In those moments my skin was a solar panel, and I was super-human. No one but myself had any idea of the power I had. I was the goddess of light.

Now, I feel like the goddess of darkness. When I can’t go to sleep after lying in bed for a while, I watch the streetlamp light filter through the blinds beside my head and mix with the spinning fan above. Sometimes I feel like I’ve  been tricked by fairies, or some other mischievous creature, but my hands move above my head to dance in the mixture of darkness and dimness to swirl it all in a much more wild churning. I can truly see ribbons of darkness pass through my fingers, and in those moments I have captured the anti-light. So maybe I’m both. The Goddess of Light and Dark. Is there an in-between? I’d like to be Mistress Gray, or Lady Betwixt. Hmm, I’ll think about it. If you have any thoughts, let me know

It’s fun to imagine I can change my own environment with my own hands, and just like my skin feels warmth, chill and touch, I like to think I can feel other things too. I hope I can share some of those feelings in my writing and share it in a wild tale. Laterz!

Gloria:

I was born in Tulsa, OK and spent the majority of my childhood years in California after my dad was transferred there. He was an aerospace engineer.

My dad was awesome back then (and still is, btw!). He was the lead engineer on the Apollo 6. My mom was the one who encouraged me to imagine. She taught kindergarten, first and third grades during that time, (not all at the same time but in different years). We first lived in Canoga Park. Then, when I was about seven, we moved to Huntington Beach.

I remember we had an old dumb waiter for our laundry. I was fascinated with it. My imagination went wild. I could imagine all kinds of worlds hidden between the walls as the box traveled up and down between floors. I knew my dad had to run tests to see if stuff survived when the Apollo blasted into space–like inanimate objects, then monkeys, then the astronauts. I decided I would set up a similar experiment. First I would see if my doll survived. It did. Next I tried my dog. Poor Christopher was shaking like a leaf. I told him to sit. Stay. Thankfully he did, and he lived to see another day. So my test of living, breathing creatures passed. Then I tried to squeeze in, but I was too big.

What to do? That I had documented all these findings in my diary, to only be stymied at the final hour was unthinkable. Then I remembered my sister, who came about to my armpits and was three years younger than me. I begged and pleaded with her to take the journey. You see, I wanted a report of exactly what was happening. I wanted to make my scientific conclusions. Were their other planets? Planets with pixies, trolls, elves and other fantastical creatures? What were their planets like? What did they eat? How did they dress? No question that the creatures didn’t exist–at least, not in my mind.

With big, worried eyes, my sister finally agreed to take the plunge. As she sat scrunched in that little box, I grabbed her hands and said, “Remember you will be famous. You’ll get in the National Geographic, and I’ll be the one reporting your travels. So don’t close your eyes. Look all around and tell me exactly what you see.” She agreed, although she told me again how scared she was of the dark. I told her I would go if I could fit in. But I couldn’t because the spaceship (i.e., the dumb waiter) was too small. So it was up to her. I assured her I would be there when she reached the other side, which was downstairs in the utility room.

As soon as I pushed the button, I ran as fast as I could down the carpeted stairs and waited for the door to open. To my relief, my sister looked just the same.  Excited, tingles running up and down my spine, I asked her what she saw. Were there faeries? Little green martians? Creatures she didn’t know what to call? She said there wasn’t anything. Indignant, stunned, I asked her what she meant. She said, “I mean, it was just dark, and scary. I couldn’t see anything.”

That was when I realized that my imagination was so much more interesting than anything in true life. And that is when I started making up stories in my head, and telling them to my sister, then later writing them down. Writing stories is the best journey I could ever take!

In between writing, taking classes and workshops on writing, getting two degrees, becoming an internal auditor and later a teacher–I still continue my heart’s desire–that of writing books full of adventure, emotion, and character growth. And my daughter, Audrey, is now majoring in creative writing. Together we’ll have so much fun creating our stories. Another great adventure!