Special Guest: ALEX CORD @CordOfficial @DenyseBridger

Many of you will remember with great fondness wonderful movies that starred a very talented actor by the name of ALEX CORD. Television audiences will remember him best as the enigmatic and tenacious Michael Coldsmith Briggs III, Codename: Archangel, from AIRWOLF. I asked Alex recently if he would consider doing an interview with me to introduce some new readers to yet another of his talents - Alex is an award winning author, and has three books out. Having read them all, I can tell you with complete honesty they are fascinating, compelling fiction that you will get lost in. Links to the books, and Mr. Cord's sites, are at the end of the post. Enjoy... I am beyond thrilled to share this with you!!

Interview – January 2014

If you were asked to define/describe your work to a potential new reader, what would you tell them about your book(s)?

Each of my books is as different one from the others as day is from night. Though the milieu, theme and premise in each is totally diverse, there is in all of them a passionate, pervasive, erotic love story. I am most interested in deeply felt and expressed human emotions and beliefs. One book is science fiction (as of the present time) about a man who wants to change the way the entire world thinks, another is about a modern day Texas cowboy in grief, whose entire life is changed by a wild horse and a young beautiful woman, another earlier book is about a love that never dies.

Do you have a genre that you are particularly comfortable writing? Do you stray from it, or stick mostly to the one genre?

I pay no attention to genre until the story is told and the genre emerges. I usually find that once the characters are fully alive, they dictate much of the story.

If you could write a book with any author, who would it be and why?

There are many but I think my first choice would be Shakespeare. Because  he is a genius. Then there is Steinbeck, Cormac McCarthy, Annie Proulx. I am inspired by all of them.

Creatively speaking, is there a “dream” goal that you hope to achieve through your writing?

I am humbled by the enormous talents of those I mentioned. I aspire to learn more, grow as a writer and engage people I don’t know with my thoughts and feelings.

Do you have a personal philosophy that you would like to share with readers?

Find the courage to dream dreams that most people would not even dare to consider. Do not listen to anyone who says, “You can’t.” If you can think it, you can feel it. If you can feel it, it can happen. Let go of anger. Nothing positive can come of anger. It’s like picking up a hot coal to throw at someone. Who gets burned? Above all LOVE! Find something or someone to love every hour of every day. All good things come from love.

Are you like most writers, working on the next book while we discuss the current one(s)? If so, what – if anything – would you like to tell us about the next book?

I am entertaining two ideas. I am a slow writer. I think I’m slow at everything. A lot of good people have been after me to write an autobiography or memoir. I’ve often told stories of things that have happened in my life that even I find hard to believe. I’m sure it would be fun and difficult to go there. I am also intrigued by the multitude of ways that men relate to women. Been thinking about a book on that. I’ve got some notes on that one and a title which I will not reveal yet.

I’ve read both your latest books, and an early one called Sandsong, Alex. You have a wonderful and engaging voice that draws your readers in and makes them care about the world you are creating. Have you drawn on the varied experiences in your life and careers, or do you prefer to world build almost entirely from your imagination?

Everything is from my life experiences. My life experiences are the result of my imagination.

Where can readers find you on the web?

Google. alexcord.net, alexcord.com, Amazon. I spend a lot of time on my Facebook page “Alex Cord- Author” and really love interacting with fans and friends from all over the world. Social media has really opened up a whole new world for me—I have a mailing list, Twitter, a blog and all kinds of things.

On a personal note, I would like to thank you for taking time from what I know is a busy schedule, it’s a pleasure to have you here as my guest today. I’ve been a fan for a long time, and many people may not be aware of it, but you played a large role in my decision to pursue writing as a career. Thank you for that, and for being here today.

The BOOKS:

Publication Date: January 18, 2011

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble

"I thoroughly enjoyed reading A Feather in the Rain. I felt a real affinity with the characters and hope to one day see this book as a motion picture." ~ Harrison Ford, actor

"Alex Cord novel is ablaze with passion" 

Alex Cord has starred in more than 30 movies and 300 television shows, often portraying men of grit and toughness. As a boy, he was stricken with polio and confined to a hospital. As a young man, he made a living as a professional bull rider on the rodeo circuit, once landing in a pile of broken bones that led to another lengthy stay in a hospital. Nothing, however, could prepare him to deal with the tragic loss of his son Damien Zachary. 

"I went into a major depression," explains Cord. "Nothing in my life seemed to have any value, any purpose." He says he pulled the covers over his head, both literally and figuratively, unable to deal with the heartache. "I came to understand the weight of the phrase, ...died of a broken heart." He dragged himself out of bed one day, determined to write down his memories of Zach. But what began as a cathartic writing exercise soon blossomed into full-blown novel, A Feather in the Rain. 

The story begins by telling of Jesse Burrell, a Texas rancher and horseman who had buried his son. Disconsolate, Jesse's love and lust for life went fallow. Determined to never again experience the heartache of loss, this trail-hardened cowboy chose a self-imposed lonely and celibate existence. With great effort, he managed to struggle through the motions of his life, running a ranch and occasionally winning awards in cutting horse competitions (although the ultimate dream of a Futurity championship eluded him.) That was how his life was, and that was how it seemed destined to remain. 

Then through a chance encounter, he meets a beautiful young woman, her own heart shattered by the death of her brother. They immediately see in each other a kindred spirit. Their explosive love affair will set readers' hearts ablaze with empathy and passion. 

"Of course, I know where the initial idea for the story came from," confesses Cord, "but a lot of it? Well, the story just took on a life of its own." Cord is a private man, not given to explaining where the line is that divides fiction from fact in his latest book. 

A Feather in the Rain is Cord's second novel. The first-Sandsong-was published by Warner Books and has been optioned for a feature film production. He has also written and sold three screenplays. 

Ernest Borgnine, Academy Award-winning actor, says of A Feather in the Rain, "Alex has written one of the finest love stories I’ve ever read."

Publication Date: December 12, 2013

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Kobo

Can one man change the way the entire world thinks? 

Johnny Grant is a world famous movie star with a passionate social conscience and a gift of clairvoyance. Intensely discontent with man's inhumanity to man, contemptuously critical of corruption in government, greed, selfishness, he's convinced the human race is headed for self-destruction. Depressed by an insistent awareness of his impotence to affect the changes he feels would improve life for all of us, he hungers for power. Ultimate power. 

Filming in Australia, he inexplicably vanishes without a trace. Instant news Worldwide. A turbulent, national manhunt ensues. Three days later he returns with an unbelievable explanation. Realizing the fantastic nature of his story, and lacking evidence, he refuses to be put in the position of convincing anyone. Is what he says true or not? Midst a media frenzy, his fame and influence explode in controversy. 

Will it bring him the power he craves?

Excerpt from Days of the Harbinger:

Saddleback Lodge was a woodsy upscale steakhouse nestled in a notch at the top of a mountain overlooking the Pacific. It was always crowded, often with celebrities. Johnny and Monk in a booth along the wall had beers and shots of tequila in front of them. A waiter placed a platter of sautéed mushrooms on the table. Johnny’s eyes blinked open and shut several times as if to clear an image. Johnny Grant was a movie star, Monk Hawksworth, his valued friend. With shoulder-length hair and beard untrimmed, steel rimmed spectacles perched on a hawk-like nose in front of piercing blue eyes. A quiet, mild mannered man of enormous intelligence tipped the tequila to his lips and said, “You seem distracted.”

“I guess I am.” Johnny divided the mushrooms. “These are so damn good.”

“So…?”

“I don’t know. Just stuff. Financial crap. Things I’m no good at.” He took a hefty swig from the shot glass. “I’m discontent, Monk. It looks like I’ve got it all…but I don’t, and the truth is I don’t know what’s missing.”

“Money?”

“Yeah…” He chuckled. “That too. But that’s not what I mean. I’m frustrated. I’m having fits of depression.”

“About what?”

He took a deep breath. “I know it sounds nuts and I damn sure wouldn’t tell it to anyone else…but…man’s inhumanity to man…it troubles me. I take things too personally. But I can’t help it. I feel so powerless. I see so many things that are unjust and I want to fix them. But…I don’t know how.”

“Maybe all we can do is be as good as we can every minute of every day in our own lives. That’s difficult enough.” The waiter arrived with steaks.

Among the BMWs and Mercedes glowing dimly in the unlit parking lot, a red Ferrari Berlinetta GT coupe gleamed in the starlight. Johnny and Monk made their way to the car. Fitted themselves into the snug cockpit. Twelve cylinders roared to life. Johnny smiled and said, “That sound made me buy this car. It still gives me a twinge.”

It had little meaning for Monk as long as it got him from point A to B. But he smiled in polite acknowledgment. Johnny eased out of the lot onto the darkened road. With the skill of a pro he wound his way down through the canyon to the residential area below. Near midnight, there was no traffic. Monk was aware of tense alertness as Johnny scanned his mirrors repeatedly. From nowhere, close behind them, bright headlights appeared. “Here it comes,” Johnny said. “We’ve got trouble, Monk. Sit tight. Do not get out of the car.” The headlights swerved sharply left and shot forward. The car passed fast, cut right in front and forced the Ferrari to the curb. The driver door of the sedan flew open. A big dark figure came rapidly toward them as a smaller man emerged from the passenger side and moved toward Monk. The big man pulled open the Ferrari door and jammed a semi-automatic .45 against Johnny’s left temple. “Get the fuck out,” he snarled, sweating.

“Okay, okay, my friend can’t get out without help. His crutches are behind the seat. I’ll give you my money, my wallet, my watch, but this whole deal might be more trouble than it’s worth.” Johnny was struggling with the seat belt.

“Get the fuck out. I’ll blow your head off.” The guy, not prepared for this complication, rushed blindly ahead.

“Okay, okay…” said Johnny working to extricate himself from the cramped confines of the close-to-the-ground cockpit. The .45 pressed hard against his head as he got his feet under him and began to stand. He turned his head fast into the gun causing it to aim past his ear as his right hand came up in a blurred arc bearing a sixteen inch steel baton with a weighted tip that found its target landing with a thwack against the big man’s temple. He crumpled, dropped to the street as if boneless. The gun clattered on pavement. The mound of flesh did not move. His accomplice shocked stood motionless. Johnny said, “Get in that car and drive away. NOW! GO! GO NOW!

He did.

Johnny got back behind the wheel of the Ferrari, steered around the heap in the street and drove away…at normal speed. No one had seen what had occurred.

Monk had ceased breathing. He was incapable of speech. All color had vanished. He stared blankly ahead. Johnny turned onto Malibu Canyon Road. Monk gasped and found his voice, an octave higher and only a whisper. “Did that really just happen?”

“I’m afraid it did.”

“Good God…it’s impossible…”

“It was real, Monk.”

“How did you? I’ve never seen anyone move so fast. None of it seemed real.”

“It was real, Monk.”

“What did you hit him with?”

Johnny was pushing the sections of steel back into itself, ending at six and a half inches. “It’s a telescoping baton.” He tucked it next to his seat on the right.

Monk glanced down at the place. “Where did it come from…so fast?”

“I had it up my sleeve when I got out.”

Where to find Alex:

Website  |  Facebook  |  Amazon Author Page  |  Twitter  |  Blog  | Website