I’M OFTEN ASKED HOW I created my Lords of the Underworld series, which revolves around a group of immortal warriors who, cursed by the gods to house demons inside them, embark on a quest for an ancient relic that will take them around the world on a journey beyond their wildest dreams. The answer I most often give is: I had never liked the myth of Pandora, where one curious female was blamed for all the world’s misery, so I decided to rewrite that myth—and blame men. But, to be honest, that isn’t how the series originated; that’s just how it ended up after tons of agonizing.

Let me explain. When I sat down to create the very first Lords of the Underworld book, all I knew was that I wanted to write a story about Death. The Grim Reaper. So, I wrote several chapters of a book where the Grim Reaper swept through Las Vegas to take the soul of a woman destined to die the next day. Only, he woke up married to her instead. But something about that story didn’t feel right, and I trashed the pages.

Knowing I needed to start over, I began to question the main character. Why was this man Death? What was his history? Had he always escorted souls to the hereafter? To my delight—and frustration—each new question gave birth to another. Those questions, and their answers, were all I could think about.

Then, one day, Death finally opened up and told me about his friends: Pain, Misery, Doubt, Violence, Disease, Secrets, Wrath, Promiscuity, Distrust, Lies, Disaster and Defeat. Of course, more questions followed. How were they friends? Why were they known as these terrible things?

And then I remembered Pandora’s box and the demons trapped inside. Of course, I thought, more excited than I’d ever been. They were the demons.

Only, rather than immortal warriors being possessed by these demons, as you know the Lords today, I envisioned the men themselves as the demons and rewrote the first few chapters of Death’s new story to reflect that. But again, something didn’t seem right. Maybe because Death was no longer the character that claimed my attention. Violence was; he demanded I pay attention to him. I had to know more about him, this man who would erupt into fits of madness at the slightest provocation. And so, once more I ditched the chapters I’d been working on and tried again, focusing on Violence, aka Maddox, this time.

Finally. I was on the right path, and I knew it—and yet, after writing the first three chapters of Maddox’s story, I realized something still was not right. In fact, here’s the blurb I had written to describe the book:

And yes, I still have those three chapters. For the curious among you, they are included in this guide. I titled that book Awakening Pandora. But you see, I didn’t like that Violence was still inside the box—been there and done that with The Pleasure Slave, which I published in 2005—and I didn’t like that he planned to lock the other demons back up but would not lock himself up, as well. Where was the fairness in that? What made him so different from the others?

So I sat down and had a heart-to-heart with myself. How could I make the storyline better, yet still utilize the myth of Pandora? And that’s when the answer came to me. All of the demons had already been released, and they’d been living among us for thousands of years.

Finally! I wrote the entire book, lost in Maddox’s new past and the volatile world around him. And here’s another behind-the-scenes tidbit for you: in that manuscript, Paris was originally named Challen; Aeron was Vrede; Reyes was Raine and Galen was Hector. Their names were ultimately changed to make them more accessible and easier to pronounce, and because I wanted names from as many different cultures as possible since my Greek and Titan gods were representing the entire world.

Oh, and in case you’re curious, here was my blurb for book two in the series (which ultimately became The Darkest Kiss). As you’ll see, I was still determined to work in my dying heroine/married in Vegas story:

You’re probably wondering about my original plans for book three (The Darkest Pleasure), as well. Here’s that blurb:

Now, I did not start working on either of those books. I turned in Maddox’s story, The Darkest Night, and waited to hear from my editor. And oh, I’m glad I did! She helped me see the final remaining problem. With the Lords having been trapped inside the box themselves, they were too tortured. They’d never known anything but Hell, isolation and pain, which left a gap between character and reader, and I had not built a bridge between the two.

Back to the drawing board I went, but this time, I brought my editor—brilliant, genius woman—with me. We tossed around ideas and came up with the stories you know today.

Some Lords have traveled easier roads than others, but I promise you, all will eventually get their happily-ever-after. So far Maddox (Violence), Lucien (Death), Reyes (Pain) and Sabin (Doubt) have found their mates. Aeron (Wrath) and Gideon (Lies) are next. Who’s after that? you might be wondering. And how do I decide?

Well, to answer the first question: Amun (Secrets) will likely be up next. You’ll see why in The Darkest Lie. After him, probably Strider (Defeat). To answer the second question: I don’t. The men decide for me.

I am not a plotter. At all. Even the thought of planning a story from start to finish makes me want to drop to the floor in the fetal position, sucking my thumb and crying for my mommy. I simply sit down with the grain of an idea (and as you’ve now read, I’ve had a lot of grains for this particular series) and allow the characters to take me wherever they want me to go. Which means their stories unfold as they give me the details—and believe me, they are impervious to my begging. ’Cause yeah, I’d love to write about certain characters before others—cough Paris cough—but every time I try, I end up staring at a blank screen. Stubborn bastards!

I might torture them in the books, but in the end, they torture me far, far more.

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my process. Not to mention the result.

Wishing you all the best!

Gena Showalter