We are very excited to sit down and talk with Saint Yvon, author of Blue Moon. We had the chance to review this exceptional thriller, and we had the opportunity to talk to Saint about his work and writing!

Thriller Magazine: The original spark for Blue Moons came from a news story about fifteen kilograms of cocaine washing ashore in Florida. How did that striking premise evolve into a deeply personal story about fatherhood, ambition, healthcare, and moral compromise over the seven years you spent developing the novel?

I think that’s one of the beautiful things about the gift of storytelling—we as authors can find great stories in the most unexpected places. I always like to approach my stories with a “what if” moment that feels relatable to my readers. If I can connect the dots and bring them a story they can see themselves in, it allows me to dig deeper into their emotions and wellbeing. Weaving in themes like fatherhood, money, healthcare, and moral compromise allowed me to bring a huge piece of reality into a fictional story—something authentic enough for readers to not only enjoy the story, but also recognize pieces of themselves they weren’t expecting to see.

TM: Jason begins the novel as an overlooked technology professional and devoted father who wants to build a better future for his son. As his circumstances become more desperate, however, he repeatedly uses love and survival to justify increasingly dangerous choices. How did you balance keeping readers emotionally invested in Jason while refusing to excuse the harm he causes?

I was very intentional about making it difficult for readers not to empathize with Jason—to the point where they might even overlook the extreme methods he takes. I think that’s the puzzle that comes with these kinds of stories: creating characters that readers can both love and hate. I really wanted to play with the reader’s emotions—to have them hate Jason’s choices, but love him enough to understand, or even excuse, them. Is what he’s doing right? That’s ultimately for the reader to decide. But I think most parents, if they put themselves in Jason’s shoes, will look at his choices through the lens of parenthood and ask themselves, “If this were my child, would I be willing to go this far? Is there ever a ‘too far’ when it comes to protecting my child?” And I think that’s where the real tension of his story lives.

TM: ArchiCare Connect is initially created to address inequality and inefficiency within healthcare, but the same technology is later manipulated to conceal corruption. What did you want the novel to suggest about the relationship between innovation, power, and the morality of the people controlling it?

I wanted to shed light on the fact that innovation itself isn’t inherently good or bad—it depends on the people controlling it. ArchiCare served a strong purpose, right? But that purpose shifted and became dangerous when it fell into the hands of people motivated by greed, power, or self-preservation. And when you look at history, that’s been the case in so many situations. I wanted to explore the idea that progress without ethical responsibility can actually reinforce the very problems it was meant to solve. This novel is asking readers whether we should judge an innovation by what it’s capable of doing, or by how responsibly people choose to use it.

TM: The title emerges from the idea that shipments like the one Jason encounters appear only “every blue moon.” Beyond describing a rare event, what does the title Blue Moons represent within Jason’s journey—chance, fate, opportunity, or perhaps the illusion that one extraordinary moment can solve an ordinary person’s problems?

The cool thing about this title is that it represents a few different things that all intertwine throughout the story. On the surface, it represents the rare, unconditional love Jason has for his son—to the point that he’s willing to enter a life of crime, risk everything he’s worked for, and potentially even lose his life to save his child. I think that kind of love is once in a blue moon, you know? But if you dig a little deeper, there’s also the idea of the illusion of life and money. Jason represents so many of us—people who can become so caught up in our ambitions and the pursuit of money that we lose sight of what really matters. We convince ourselves that money is the final key to unlock the door to happiness, but it’s not. It’s an illusion. And I think that idea extends beyond money. Even our memories and the stories we tell ourselves about our past can become illusions. We interpret events through our own experiences, sometimes remembering them differently than they actually happened—or holding onto things that may not have happened at all. So, in many ways, the novel is about the illusions we create, the things we convince ourselves will save us, and what happens when those illusions are challenged.

TM: In your author’s note, you discuss the expectations sometimes placed on Black writers regarding which stories they are “supposed” to tell. Jason comes from a middle-class background, yet stability, professional success, and respectability do not protect him from trauma or desperation. How did you use his story to challenge assumptions about privilege, Black masculinity, criminality, and the private struggles hidden behind a seemingly successful life?

I love this question! I think I was able to challenge those narratives because they’ve always been at my front door, you know? I’ve always been forced to confront assumptions about what a successful life looks like, and what people assume that success protects us from. On the outside, Jason is the perfect embodiment of what most people would consider the “American dream.” He’s educated, professionally successful, and comes from a middle-class background, but none of that makes him immune to trauma, desperation, or difficult choices. I wanted to complicate the idea that middle-class status automatically means someone is protected from struggle. I also wanted to challenge narrow ideas of Black masculinity. Jason isn’t a “good” or “bad” black man, and his choices can’t be neatly explained by either label. His private struggles, his vulnerability, and his mistakes exist alongside his professional success and sense of responsibility. I wanted Jason’s story to remind readers that criminality, trauma, and desperation don’t always announce themselves through the stereotypes we’ve been taught to expect. Sometimes they exist behind the closed doors of seemingly successful lives. I think that’s what makes his story—and the larger conversation around privilege and respectability—so complicated. Success can change your circumstances, but it doesn’t erase your humanity.