Daughter of the Moon Goddess by Sue Lynn Tan

 

UK Edition/Waterstones

Hi all! I've been a bit MIA the last two weeks. The Witch Collector released on 11/2 and let me tell you, it was exhausting. Far more so than I expected. On top of that, my house/kitchen is mid-remodel and I attempted to participate in NaNoWriMo, so it's been fun in my world this first half of November ;)

This week's blog topic at the SFF Seven is to promote BIPOC creatives. I chose to promote a fellow debut author, the lovely Sue Lynn Tan. Can we just take a moment to be in awe of this book cover by Waterstones?? And the GREEN pages?? I had to have it the moment I saw it! The US version is just as beautiful, though. It's one of those books that I feel I need in both forms because it's just that stunning.

US Edition

Here's a little info about Sue Lynn and her beautiful debut romantic fantasy novel.

     Blurb:

      A captivating debut fantasy inspired by the legend of Chang'e, the Chinese moon goddess, in which a young woman’s quest to free her mother pits her against the most powerful immortal in the realm.

      Growing up on the moon, Xingyin is accustomed to solitude, unaware that she is being hidden from the feared Celestial Emperor who exiled her mother for stealing his elixir of immortality. But when Xingyin’s magic flares and her existence is discovered, she is forced to flee her home, leaving her mother behind. Alone, powerless, and afraid, she makes her way to the Celestial Kingdom, a land of wonder and secrets. Disguising her identity, she seizes an opportunity to learn alongside the emperor's son, mastering archery and magic, even as passion flames between her and the prince.

To save her mother, Xingyin embarks on a perilous quest, confronting legendary creatures and vicious enemies across the earth and skies. But when treachery looms and forbidden magic threatens the kingdom, she must challenge the ruthless Celestial Emperor for her dream—striking a dangerous bargain in which she is torn between losing all she loves or plunging the realm into chaos.

Daughter of the Moon Goddess begins an enchanting, romantic duology which weaves ancient Chinese mythology into a sweeping adventure of immortals and magic—where love vies with honor, dreams are fraught with betrayal, and hope emerges triumphant.

About Sue Lynn Tan:

Sue Lynn Tan writes fantasy novels inspired by the myths and legends she fell in love with as a child. Born in Malaysia, she studied in London and France, before settling in Hong Kong with her family.

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Her love for stories began with a gift from her father, her first compilation of fairytales from around the world. After devouring every fable she could find in the library, she discovered fantasy books – spending much of her childhood lost in magical worlds.

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Her debut, Daughter of the Moon Goddess, will be published by Harper Voyager in January 2022, with a sequel to come. It is an enchanting fantasy of love and family, immortals and magic – inspired by the beloved Chinese legend of Chang’e flying to the moon upon taking the elixir of immortality.

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When not writing or reading, she enjoys exploring the many hills, lakes, and temples around her home. She is also grateful to be within reach of bubble tea and spicy food, which she unfortunately cannot cook.

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Find her on Instagram and Twitter @SuelynnTan, or on her website www.suelynntan.com. She is represented by Naomi Davis of Bookends Literary Agency.

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Doesn't this sound so amazing?? Here's a link to Sue Lynn's website book page because there are so many awesome purchase options. You can also add the book on Goodreads here. Remember, it releases on January 11, 2022. I cannot wait to read this tale!

Have I Heard of You

MISSING

 

DO YOU KNOW THIS AUTHOR? HAVE YOU HEARD OF THIS AUTHOR?

 

 

To be fair, probably not. That's okay. Now you have heard of this author. Keep an eye out for this one, please. The families of the characters in the book she's currently supposed to be writing will pay good --- uhm --- stories? for this author's safe return to the keyboard. Please. For the love of finishing a book. Even if you don't read SFR or Urban Fantasy, help us out.

 

The Faceless Voice

This week we’re supposed to talk about how to respond when a fellow party-goer learns you’re a writer and asks: “have I heard of you?”.

I would have so much fun with that question, but since my first release came out during a pandemic there hasn’t been options for going out much less any parties. If I were to be asked that my gut reaction is like Jeffe’s, I’d find out if they’re a reader. 

I absolutely love recommending books to people and when they end up enjoying my suggestion I walk on clouds for the rest of the day! Yes, I’m a bookworm and I’m not afraid to read what I like or tell people about it. 

I’m on a roll getting people to read my fellow author’s works. High-five to myself! But I’m not very good at suggesting my audiobook. Why? Aren’t I proud of it? Don’t I want to shout it to the sky that I have an audiobook out in the world? 

I’d rather be the faceless voice that transports you 

out of the mundane, 

into heart-pounding adventure. 

So I’ll do a little practice—for, you know, that day when I eventually get invited out of the house. Let’s see…if we were to strike up a conversation this might be a good starting point:

Do you read? (note: the correct answer here is YES, but reality is most people choose watching tv over reading) 

Which leads to the second question: Do you like movies like The Martian and The Day After Tomorrow? (the correct answer would again be YES, because what’s not to love?!)

Do you like a little romance in the storyline? If they give confusion-face, follow up with: Romance like Liv Tyler and Ben Affleck in Armageddon or Aragorn and Arwen in Lord of the Rings? (the correct answer would of course be YES)

Do you like medical thrillers—Outbreak, Kay Scarpetta series, Forensic Files show? (again—YES)

Then you’ll like my audiobook about a lab girl fighting to put a stop to an alien organism that’s wiping out Earth—The Mars Strain! 

Whew! Maybe that won’t be so bad after all. Now, if I can only remember what it’s like to get dressed up and go out. 

How about you? How do you answer “have I heard of you”?

Are You a Reader?

via GIPHY

This week at the SFF Seven, we're posing the question: How do you answer when people at parties ask “have I heard of you?”

I confess that I posed this question of the group, since I get this question frequently and I'm usually at a loss as to how to answer. So for a while there I was going around asking other authors how they handle this.

My friend, Jim Sorenson, master of the witty comeback, suggested Sam Malone's line from Cheers, "Not many people know this, but I'm kind of a big deal." I couldn't find a gif of that one though. The line is a good litmus test for how much someone is paying attention. 

But in actuality, I've ended up going with a tiered response, much like KAK suggested yesterday, only a bit less... snarky. Most of the time, I've found, people are asking the question as a rote response to discovering the person they're talking to just might be famous in some way. Where writers are concerned, the answer is almost always "no."

I have, however, found another litmus test response. I return the question by asking if they're a reader. This small-talk gambit works for a multitude of scenarios. Most of the time, the person is NOT a reader, and asking this question will elicit a - sometimes long - explanation of why they don't read. It works really well for the principle that the easiest way to engage someone in conversation is to ask about themselves. People who don't read will often talk about the last book they DID read, or how they hated being forced to read in school, or how busy their lives are. This gives rich fodder for letting them talk about their lives. If they're not actually interested in the fact that I'm a writer, this lets them gracefully never return to the topic and saves me the painful sorting of the fact that, no, they haven't heard of me.

If they ARE a reader, well! Now the conversation gets interesting. I can what genres they read and we talk books. We drill down pretty quickly to whether they read my genre and, if they haven't read my books, they usually end up by whipping out their phone and buying one. Happy outcome!

Speaking of buying books, I'm happy to report that I've finished the draft of my novella for the upcoming FIRE OF THE FROST anthology! I still need to settle on a title, but it takes place at Convocation Academy in my Bonds of Magic world, taking place at roughly the same time as DARK WIZARD. You can preorder the anthology now to have it slip into your eReader in December! (Print will be available, but you can only preorder through my website right now. Print will be available via the usual retailers on release day, just not for preorder.)

Available at these Retailers

    

Party Season and *That* Question

Q: How do I answer at parties when people say, "Have I heard of you?"

teehee, bwahaha, muuwahaha

It totally depends on my mood. Usually, I'm somewhere between polite and cheeky, fully aware that 99.999% of the population has never heard of me or my works. Here are my three answers and associated moods.

Polite: "Probably not, but life's about trying new things, right? Can I interest you in some meddlesome modern gods, a horde of dashing dragons, a grenade-eating goblin, or a fire-warrior out to destroy a kingdom?"

Cheeky: "Highly unlikely, but you look like the adventurous sort. You should give my books a try. How about spending the night with some meddlesome modern gods, a grenade-eating goblin, or a fire-warrior out to destroy a kingdom with the power of mind control?"

Raging Bitch On Shutdown Mode: "Depends entirely on whether you allow the mainstream to dictate your personal preferences."

Do I know you?

 This week's subject is "How do you answer when people ask, 'Do I know you?'"

My usual answer, if I'm being honest, is "I don't know. do you read fantasy, science fiction, or horror?"

I believe in properly chastising non-readers. :)  I will forgive them even if they only read non-fiction because at least they are reading. 

Seriously, I probably know as many people because I work at Starbucks (Several in the last fifteen years) as I do as a result of my writing. It's hard to say which pays better over the years, but I definitely enjoy the writing more. Okay, I likely have a few more readers than regulars at Starbucks. I've had over 40 novel-length works in print over the years. 

That said, anyone who does this for the ego boost is likely going to get an unpleasant surprise. It's about telling tales and having a good time in the process, and as I have said before,, I'd likely be writing these stories even if I'd never been in print. It's how I express myself. 

I did have a rather unexpected surprise today, a new t-shirt from a fan (I have a few of those). 

Pandemics, Politics, and Face Plant

This photo is 100% representative of the past two years of writing for me. The picture is from July 2021. I'd just face-planted on a downtown Austin sidewalk. Fat lip. Broken nose. 

So yeah. Pandemic. Politics. Face-plants. I've been a mental and emotional train wreck since January 2020. I've finished nothing. I've barely managed to put one word in behind another on a book that should have been finished in late 2019. 

Why?

1. Lock down and unrelenting introvert exhaustion. Don't get me wrong. I love my family. Most of the time. But I need serious alone time. THERE'S BEEN NONE FOR TWO YEARS AND I'M ABOUT TO CRACK. Four adults and too many cats in one house has been crushing to this introvert. 

2. Living with someone who's immune-compromised. If you look up 'COVID-19 comorbidities' you'll find my father's photo. That's a lot of worry and a lot of pressure. It meant living in several months of fear that one of us would bring illness home and kill my father. As a result, no one went anywhere. For a really, really long time. Even past being vaccinated. To this day, no one goes anywhere unless double masked. It also means that while I used to be able to leave the house to get some alone time out in the world, you can see how THAT stopped.

3. I picked up a day job. Initially, when I picked up the technical writing gig, there was plenty of time and brain space for fiction. Then the projects at work kicked into high gear and ate my brain. 

Now, there are parts of life in these times that I cannot impact. I can't do anything about a pandemic. Nor can I do as much about politics as I'd like. But I can change how work happens and the day job is scaling back in January. I can't change the fact that life has fundamentally shifted. The parental units both need extra help and I'm having to adjust to the fact that alone time is going to be thin on the ground for the foreseeable future. 

Adapt or die. I thought it was a movie slogan. I'd never expected a bit of Jurassic Park to apply to me.
 

2021: A Good Year for Me

Our topic at the SFF Seven this week is: "It's Been A Year: Pandemic Year 2, Vaccines, New Political Administration, has it affected your writing? Better? Worse?"

I confess, this has been a good year for me. As James discussed on Monday, it's been a huge relief to me to have sanity in the White House again. Yeah, there's a lot of political stuff that's still not where I'd like it to be, but it's so much better than it was. I feel like we're at least working to solve the problems we're facing rather than digging ourselves deeper. 

I'm really happy we got vaccinated early in the year, too. My hubs and I took the opportunity to drive to Amarillo, TX to get ours. (A four-hour drive each way.) We got our second dose by March 8. That was an amazing, once in a lifetime experience (I hope!), knowing that sheer, sweet relief of being vaccinated against COVID-19. It restored a sense of safety and wellbeing that I'd missed for pretty much exactly a year.

Also, I'm one of those who became more productive in my writing during the pandemic, largely because I wasn't traveling, I think. I talk about this a lot, but having a daily writing habit carried me through even the worst of the anxiety. That habit is the foundation that allows everything else to be stable. I know this can be aggravating to people who can't write every day for various reasons, but I'm such a huge believer in the magic of ritual and building a habit that carries you through the rough patches. Still, I say this as a writer who spent many, many years not being very productive. 

This is way better.

So, though we're only 84% of the way through the year so far (and yes, I'm counting today, since it's morning for me), I'm calling it a good year for me. In particular, I'm thrilled by this graph of my income from royalties and book sales. As you can see, 2021 has been my best income-from-writing year ever, and that's with two months to go. It also doesn't count income from other sources, like teaching workshops and author coaching. 

I'm really proud of myself for the work I put in to make this happen.

How about you all - are things looking up in your neck of the woods?

New #Fantasy #Romance Release: THE WITCH COLLECTOR by Charissa Weaks

🎉Today we celebrate our very own Charissa's debut novel, The Witch Collector, a thrilling romantic fantasy that's sure to get your pulse racing for the right reasons. So, as the weather turns, grab a snuggly blanket, a warm drink, and your copy of this can't miss new release! 🎉

THE WITCH COLLECTOR
Witch Walker, Book 1

Every harvest moon, the Witch Collector rides into our valley and leads one of us to the home of the immortal Frost King, to remain forever.

Today is that day—Collecting Day.

But he will not come for me. I, Raina Bloodgood, have lived in this village for twenty-four years, and for all that time he has passed me by.

His mistake.

Raina Bloodgood has one desire: kill the Frost King and the Witch Collector who stole her sister. On Collecting Day, she means to exact murderous revenge, but a more sinister threat sets fire to her world. Rising from the ashes is the Collector, Alexus Thibault, the man she vowed to slay and the only person who can help save her sister.

Thrust into an age-old story of ice, fire, and ancient gods, Raina must abandon vengeance and aid the Witch Collector or let their empire—and her sister—fall into enemy hands. But the lines between good and evil blur, and Raina has more to lose than she imagined. What is she to do when the Witch Collector is no longer the villain who stole her sister, but the hero who’s stealing her heart?

BUY IT NOW: Amazon | Nook | Kobo | & More

n this our time of plague...

 Our subject this time around is: It's Been  A Year: How has the new administration and the second year of the Pandemic affected you?

Simply put on the change of presidents: I no longer dread what the previous president is going to say or do to make this country look bad or fall further into disrepair. You may not agree with me, but I think President Biden has already done far more to help this country than Trump ever managed. I'll do you one better. I genuinely believe that the current plague we are enduring would have been under control by now if Trump hadn't actively made it worse. 

It's nice to have a president who takes his job seriously, and who doesn't want to alienate every ally the United States has made in 200 years. It's so nice, in fact, that writing is easier for me. I can let my imagination focus on stories, instead of the next disaster waiting to drop on the nation where I live and work.

I say that despite having endured Covid-19 myself and dealing with a critically ill spouse who spent seven weeks in the ICU on a respirator. despite having had THAT discussion with her at one point, via text message because she could not breathe well enough to speak,  Which discussion? Funeral needs. What to say to her family members when the time came to announce her death. That discussion. And folks, if you don't think I blame our last president for the disease spreading so casually around the country and causing huge numbers of deaths, then you weren't listening to the man rant about how Covid-19 was little more than another strain of the flu. 

If I need to go to a dark place in my writing, I just think about the last administration's efforts to ignore all of the safeguards we had in place in case of a pandemic, and I get just as dark as I need to. Whether he is simply a buffoon or actively went out of his way, I firmly believe that the last administration did everything possible to ruin this nation and was only stopped by the people around him who stopped his worst actions. The fact that he seriously considered raining nuclear death down on China when he lost the election is enough to chill me to the bones, and I write horror for a living. I don't scare easy. 

So,m yeah, I think I'm in a better place now than I was a year ago. I think the future is brighter than it was.  My wife is home and in a better state than she was at the beginning of the year.  I have lost people to Covid, but she was not among them. The current president is working hard to repair the damage caused by a blithering clown, and trying to crush Covid. 

I can see light in the distance, and I can imagine a world where the US is not the laughing stock of the free world. 

It's a good thing. 

And now back to the novel in progress. 

Have a great day.

Scary Scene from a WIP

Horror is not my happy place. I've tried to learn a little about how to write it. I've had classes in the language of horror and in some of the psychological tools used in horror. But honestly, I don't want to make you afraid. I'd rather creep you out. Fine line, I know, and I'm not sure I have the knack of it just yet. I'm not after terrified. I'm more interested in haunted. So I'll offer up a snippet from a book called Curse of the Lorelei. The book still needs some major rewrites to hop up the creepy and the tension.

The story takes place in the very early days of the Civil War. It's just after the fall of Fort Sumter. It'd be bad enough with just the start of the war. Unfortunately for our heroes, their version of New Orleans is haunted by more than Confederates and Union spies. Charlie is a young woman (and a Union spy) disguised as a boy. Hunt is a British spy bent on destabilizing the situation in the US with the notion that the British crown might be able to recover the errant colonies. They've rowed out to what appears to be a ghost ship that's anchored off shore in quarantine. Hunt boarded the boat. Charlie is standing to under the ship's rail aboard the row boat. Monsieur Foucalte is the dockmaster who won't let the ship dock for fear of disease.

---------------------

            Charlie forced her shoulders down. Rocked her head on her neck.
           A shrill scream, broken by sobs, wrenched her gaze upward. Every muscle in her body clenched.
            “No!” Hunt shouted.
            A body hurtled into the water three feet from the bow of the skiff.
            Water sprayed her. Charlie yelped and crouched low to steady the boat as the impact waves tossed her. Heart a gripping pain in her chest, she gasped, and scanned the surface of the river.
             “Can you see him?” she hollered to the two men still clinging to the side of the larger ship.
            The man surfaced. Flailing. Sobbing. “Help! Help me! Please – ulp!” He floundered toward shore.
            Charlie shot to her feet. The boat swayed in warning.
            “Turn around!” she shouted. “I’ll pull you aboard! Turn around!”
            Caught up in whatever terror had driven him over the rail, he either didn’t hear, or he ignored her. He struggled closer to shore.
            Shouts from the dock caught her attention and she glanced at the men on the wharf. The group roiled and waved, arms swinging in clear ‘go back’ gestures. It did no good.
            The man in the river, yammering a steady stream of pleas for aid, kept heading to shore.
            Monsieur Foucalte, recognizable by size alone, shoved through the knot of dock workers, a rifle in his hands.
            Charlie gasped.
            He raised it. Sighted.
            Her blood ran cold. “Wait! What –”
            The tenor of the swimmer’s cries changed. Climbed. Panic resonated in the sound, shaking her.
            Around the man, the water of the turgid Mississippi frothed. It took several seconds to register what her eyes tried to show her.
            Snakes. Dozens of snakes, wet skins glistening in the sun, surrounded the man. Slithered over his back. Tangled in his kicking legs.
            He hesitated, fell silent.
            As his legs sank and he came upright in the water, the first snake struck. She couldn’t see the fangs, but the big, black snake’s stiff pull back and launch forward was unmistakable. As was the man’s strangled shriek.
            A shot rang out.
            The cry died mid arc. The sailor slumped.
            Snakes - and something much larger, black, gleaming hide, fangs, and blood-red eyes - swarmed him. Kelpie. It surfaced. Made eye contact with her. Sneered. And took a bite out of the dead man’s poisoned flesh.

Scene from The Mars Strain - Happy Halloween!

 This week we’re promoting our scariest book or scene…and, well. I’m a wuss when it comes to scary. I don’t write horror, though some creepy does sneak into my writing. 

So here’s a snippet from The Mars Strain to help you get your Halloween creep on! Enjoy!

Setup:

 Juliet’s in isolation due to a supposed contact 

with the first strain victim—and she’s been watching the clock.

The Mars Strain - Chapter 18

                                                                                                    

My palms and fingertips touch the cold glass and rings of foggy moisture surrounds each contact point. 

There isn’t anyone in the room between mine and the pod with the girl who’s writhing on the bed. She tosses and turns. Her silky black hair sticks to her face and her sheet covered arms and legs strike out again and again. 

Hazmat suits surround her and block her from view. The staff frantically press sensors to her skin, trying to get a vitascan, and two nurses administer injections. 

The man in the pod on the other side of her room has mirrored my stance. My gaze darts between hazmat helmets to him. His eyes bulge and he takes a step back. He holds up a hand to ward off the sight of what’s happening to the other patient and crosses himself. 

The girl lurches up off the bed, breaking through the hazmat suits.

A scream sticks in my throat.

The nurses grab her arms to keep her from landing on the floor. The girl’s knees buckle, her feet are solid purple, like they’ve been bruised. She holds up her petite hands, her fingers are shaking, and they’re bruised just like her feet. The purple of her fingers fades to a dark blue that has crept up her hands and I can see the lines of her veins on her forearms because they’re a dark, angry red. 

Not even her face has been spared. The tip of her nose is dark, and red thorny branches cover her cheeks.

 

She screams. 

Not a scream I can hear through the walls, but a scream I can see and feel. Her neck strains, her mouth is open wide and horror fills her eyes. Every part of her is screaming. My hair stands on end and a prickle chills the skin between my shoulder blades. 

I stumble away from the wall and wipe my hands on my pants. I can’t look away. I can’t look at anything else. All I can look at is the girl who’s stopped screaming, the girl who’s stopped moving, the girl who’s now a lifeless pile on the floor. 

Time of death: 02:59 AM. 

A Glimpse of Dark Wizard

This week at the SFF Seven, we're sharing our scariest book or scene. No, mine isn't from DARK WIZARD, although I love how creeptastic that image is. The thing is, I can't yet share what I think is the scariest thing I've ever written.

See, I never think of myself as writing all that scary. James is the horror writer. KAK delves into the twisted psyche. Usually I see my books as being occasionally dark, but not all that creepy. Readers may disagree. But in general I'm kind of a fragile flower. I don't like being scared. I don't watch or read horror. I'm the one who leaves the room during the scary scenes in a movie, or - far worse! - the gory ones. You guys know me - I'll write all the sex scenes and I advocate for closed-door violence.

Why can't that be a thing?

But this New Thing I've written, the Sekrit Project, is pretty scary. It's tense and twisted and... I already told you I can't share it yet!

Yeah, I hate violence, but I love a tease. 

So, though it's not all that scary, and because I couldn't resist using this creepy image with DARK WIZARD, I'll share an unsettling scene from that book. Enjoy!

***

Having to deal with the inn, the askance stares at his appearance, the averted gazes when they took in his wizard-black eyes, the shocked ones at his white hair—all of it broke him out of his circular thoughts. He tipped the stable girl well to walk Vale cool, rub the gelding down thoroughly, and give him an extra portion of feed. And he tipped the boy in the pub well to bring himself an extra portion of feed, also. Gabriel sat alone in a shadowy corner, using a simple moon spell to reflect curiosity away from himself.

He was more tired than he’d realized, feeling sleepier by the moment as warm food settled into his stomach. He wasn’t used to winter’s bite. And he’d pushed hard to reach House Elal, thinking he’d have days of rest after the wedding. Sopping up the last of the rich mushroom gravy with the excellent fresh bread, Gabriel settled back to savor the rest of his wine—an excellent, robust Elal red, though not as good as Veronica’s special reserve—and watch the room.

Thus, he was in the perfect position to see the hunters arrive.

He knew them for inhuman even before they fully entered the busy tavern. The air seemed to bend before their passage, adjusting to the presence of that which should not exist in this world. There were six of them, slinking into the room like an amalgam of a jackal and a weasel in vaguely human shape, arching like hounds to sniff the surfaces they passed. Nobody else seemed aware of them, so Gabriel made sure to look past the hunters also, focusing on the minstrel blithely singing a song nearby, exhorting the crowd for coins.

He needn’t have bothered, for one of the hunters lifted its snout in the air as if scenting something interesting and fastened one eye on Gabriel. It slunk in his direction, pausing to steal a handful of coin from the oblivious minstrel’s tip basket. It tossed one on the table before Gabriel, an insolent sneer on its distorted face.

“Wissard,” it hissed, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth—several rows of them.

“Hunter,” Gabriel returned. He readied himself, though his water and moon magic seemed unequal to dealing with a creature like this. The books in the House Phel library, at least the legible ones, were short on spells for martial application. Under the table, he loosened his sword in its scabbard, a far more reliable defense.

“You know what I am. Good. I ssseek a familiar, on behalf of the Convocation. Have you ssscented one?” It pushed the coin toward him with a sharp, curving claw.

“This place reeks of sweat and ale,” Gabriel replied. “I’m sure any good familiar would turn tail and hide in their room.”

The hunter sniffed the air all the while Gabriel spoke, barely listening. “You have no familiar.”

“Unfortunately, no. I am but a minor wizard.” Gabriel drew more moon reflections around himself, just in case any of his power leaked through. On the advantage side of being a moon-based water wizard, it was a quiet magic, and often overlooked.

The hunter fixed one ochre eye on him—the length of its snout making looking forward with both eyes at once impossible—and made an unpleasant choking sound. Laughter? “Why are you here, wissard?”

Gabriel gestured at his cleaned plate. “Best mushroom gravy in all of Elal.”

The hunter eyed him for another excruciatingly long few moments. Without another word, it slunk out again, its cohorts streaming to join it, pouring out the door again like smoke. Gabriel blew out a breath, quaffed his wine, and went to his room for the night—dropping the coin, plus a few more, back in the minstrel’s basket.

 

Burned: The Scary Scene

Our scariest book or scariest scene...Weeeeeeeell, I'm not a horror writer so I reckon I have to go with the scariest thing to me, which is reclaiming your sense of self and your soul's strength after enduring an emotionally abusive relationship. To that end, I'd have to say the first book in my Immortal Spy urban fantasy series, The Burned Spy is probably the scariest...emotionally.

In the clip below, we have a classic moment of power disparity being abused between Jörmungand (yep, the Norse World Serpent in humanoid form) and Bix the Gatekeeper. She's broken free of his thrall, but not the god himself. They're in a nightclub. She has no idea he's there until... 

From THE BURNED SPY, Immortal Spy Book 1

Bix headed for the railing overlooking the raucous floor show.

“You reek of Greek,” hissed a too familiar and unwelcome voice.

Her stomach lodged in her throat. “Go away, Jör.”

“You’re under contract with my pantheon.” He trailed a finger up and down her arm. “I want to know why there’s an archangel in our embassy.”

“First, my contract is with your sister. You’re just a witness.” She slanted away from him and drew her shoulder up to her ear. “Second, it’s a condo, not an embassy. Third, fuck off.”

He spread his arms to either side of her, pinning her against the railing. “Hel wants an update on your progress.”

The darkness rippled along her spine. This time, she didn’t fight it as it tore out the back of her dress.

Jör’s eyes widened. He tipped her over the railing until her feet no longer touched the ground, one hand heavy on her nape, the other firm on her hip. She bucked against his grip, but he held her fast.

Fear, thick and heavy weighed her down as every eye in the bar fixed on her. Shame stilled her thrashing and burned her cheeks.

The darkness retracted.

“Finally,” Jör whispered.

Light sizzled and burst.

Jör skidded across the floor in a trail of smoke. A friendly hand grabbed Bix’s feet and pulled her back to the surety of solid ground. Her date wrapped his arm firmly around her waist and hauled her up against his side. An orb of raw electricity crackled in his palm.

She tried to stop quaking. Couldn’t.

Jör regained his feet and smirked. His tongue lashed out and extinguished the smoldering of his chest pocket. He causally doffed his nonexistent hat to Ashtad, even as his gaze shifted to her. His lips moved. She didn’t need to hear his voice to know his words.

“Tick, tock.”

What an asshole, right?  Don't worry, part of Bix's character growth in the book is about no longer being a victim. For more about the Immortal Spy Urban Fantasy Series, click here!

Everyone loves a clown,,,

So the subject for this week is What's the scariest thing you've ever written.

Well, first and foremost, I'm a horror writer. It's what I do. I drink coffee and I write scary things. Just off the top of my head there's  the BLOOD RED series of vampire novels, CHERRY HILL (Haunted asylum), HARVEST MOON (witches and curses), The SERENITY FALLS trilogy (small towns, curses and worse) THE HAUNTED FOREST TOUR with Jeff Strand (Jurassic Park with monsters), The GRIFFIN & PRICE BOOKS (Small town crime and monsters), any number of short stories that could qualify,  BOOMTOWN (Weird Western Horror), UNDER THE OVERTREE (Puberty and monsters), the CHRIS CORIN Chronicles (Lovecraftian horror) and DEEPER (sea monsters and ghosts). There's a plethora of books. and tat doesn't include my work for Roleplaying Games or comic books. 

So. yeah kind of my forte. 

I'm going to set all of those aside, however, because the one that seems to disturb people the most is my novel SMILE NO MORE, and the main character of the tale, Rufo the Clown.

Now, Rufo has been around for a while. he first showed up in Grease painted Smile, a tale written specifically for a friend of mine who invited me to a Halloween party where the price of admission was a scary story. Said friend confessed to me at one point that he suffers from coulrophobia, a deep and abiding fear of clowns. I mean, how could I not write a story just for him? 

I have to say, I still like the opening paragraph of the tale: I remember the long lashes, the startling blue eyes, the thick, dark hair, and the red, red lips drawn back in a wide, friendly smile. but mostly I remember the bloodstained teeth.

He liked it so much that he bought it for his online magazine the Stillwaters Journal. The tale is a first-person story of a man who has multiple encounters with Rufo the clown throughout his life. It doesn't end well for him.

after that, when I needed another clown in the SERENITY FALLS trilogy, I used Rufo again, with an entire carnival of dead clowns and hauntings. And te response? Well, several people suggested I employ Rufo in his own tale. So I did.

Know what's funny to me? There are a lot of people with a fear of clowns. I mean, I had NO IDEA. I have never been afraid of clowns. Not even for a few seconds. 

So I had to come up with enough of a tale to make a full novel about an undead, insane clown with a penchant for extreme violence who happens to have a very twisted sense of morality and justice.   

The back cover text: There's nothing quite like a circus. The Carnivale de Fantastique is an acrobatic and musical phenomenon, a show based on the legends of a circus that vanished mysteriously half a century ago. Every season the numbers grow, the merchandising expands and the ticket sales explode. This year things are a little different. This year the star of the show was murdered and shipped to the next city in a cardboard box. This year the acts are running into all sorts of troubles, and even the police and the F.B.I. are trying to figure out what's causing all the troubles. Once upon a time there was a kid named Cecil. He ran away, joined the circus and then got murdered for his troubles. Fifty years later, he clawed his way out of Hell, found the people who killed him and his circus and had his bloody revenge. Since then he's been trying to find something to do with his time and now he's heard about the Carnivale de Fantastique, a show based on the disappearance of the circus he traveled with. Of course it's not a traditional circus. This one has acrobats and dancers and actors and a story. It's only missing one thing and it's just not funny. When in doubt, send in the clowns.

I tend to think it's an interesting take. I also tend to think it's one of the most violent stories I've ever told, and I am pleased with the number of people who apparently developed a serious problem with clowns while reading the story and simultaneously I am delighted by the number of people who found themselves rooting for the clown and were then disgusted with themselves.

Listen, anytime as an artist, you manage to elicit an emotion of any kind, you've done your job. I'm good with fear, but the guilty reaction? That's an extra tip of the hat. 

Rufe has also been popular enough to have his own fan following, which is about as flattering as it gets.

Not So Scary

 

This week's topic is our scariest book or book with the scariest scene. I don't feel like I write anything super scary. Intense, perhaps, and slightly evil, but not scary. At least it isn't to me. I may be a poor judge since it's my own work, but I'm definitely no horror writer. 

For me, the scariest thing to write was in The Witch Collector. I can't say what that scene is without spoiling things, but the imagery certainly gave me eerie vibes. It takes place in an enchanted frozen forest and involves an unexpected occurrence that endangers the main characters. While the book has a romantic subplot, the main plot takes a few turns into darker territory.

If you're curious, you can snag The Witch Collector now. There's even a hardback available for pre-order and there's a Goodreads giveaway going on through 10/31.

Here's the blurb:

Every harvest moon, the Witch Collector rides into our valley and leads one of us to the home of the immortal Frost King, to remain forever.

Today is that day—Collecting Day.

But he will not come for me. I, Raina Bloodgood, have lived in this village for twenty-four years, and for all that time he has passed me by.

His mistake.

Raina Bloodgood has one desire: kill the Frost King and the Witch Collector who stole her sister. On Collecting Day, she means to exact murderous revenge, but a more sinister threat sets fire to her world. Rising from the ashes is the Collector, Alexus Thibault, the man she vowed to slay and the only person who can help save her sister.

Thrust into an age-old story of ice, fire, and ancient gods, Raina must abandon vengeance and aid the Witch Collector or let their empire—and her sister—fall into enemy hands. But the lines between good and evil blur, and Raina has more to lose than she imagined. What is she to do when the Witch Collector is no longer the villain who stole her sister, but the hero who’s stealing her heart?

The Witch Collector is book one in a thrilling romantic fantasy trilogy, perfect for fans of Naomi Novik, Sarah J. Maas, and Jennifer L. Armentrout.

***

"If you like your fantasy with complex magic, an intriguing protagonist, a powerful romance, and a great cast of supporting characters, I highly recommend The Witch Collector. Charissa Weaks's high-stakes storytelling will leave you waiting eagerly for the next installment." — Juliet Marillier, award-winning author of the Warrior Bards series

A romantic, fraught and fantastic journey through war-torn lands and a deliciously malevolent enchanted forest. I loved the voiceless heroine who wields magical sign language and the tormented hero determined to keep her alive and save an empire. Welcome to a compelling new fantasy world and a truly epic tale!

~ Jeffe Kennedy, award-winning author of The Forgotten Empires and Dark Wizard

"The Witch Collector is a magical, enchanting, fantasy romance whose pages are filled with threads of love, loss, and healing. Highly, highly recommended for anyone who loves fantasy romance, fantasy with strong female leads, unique magic systems, and beautiful writing." — Alexia Chantel/AC Anderson, Author of The Mars Strain

I hope you have a blessed All Hallows Eve and a great week leading up to it!

Banned Book Week: Censorship

Nobody likes the notion of censorship. Artists of all kinds knee jerk when we hear the word. Yet we'd all probably agree there are bridges too far. Lies too egregious. Charissa and KAK mulled over the difference between censorship and quashing disinformation. Jeffe considered how we as writers censor ourselves. Alexia looked at how characters censor their worlds. 

I'm here to challenge you to consider the potential career benefits to being censored. Or, at least, having someone *attempt* to censor your book(s). I'm willing to bet you can rattle off a list of books that have been banned at one time or another. 

* To Kill a Mockingbird
* 1984
* Harry Potter (all of them)
* Animal Farm
* Fahrenheit 451 (our dose of irony)

I'm also willing to bet you've read several of these books and can name the authors for most of them. Why? I attribute it to spite. What happens when someone attempts to ban a book? Usually, it's some well-meaning, if ill-advised parent trying to protect a kid. This parent (or many of them) aren't just okay with opting their child out of reading the book. Instead, they decide no child should read the book and try to erase it from libraries, schools, and stores. 

You know what happens next. Maybe no kid was excited about the school reading list, but now. NOW. You've just told them they *can't* read something. That book flies off the shelves. The media gets involved. The author's name and book title are bandied about on national TV and discussed on major radio shows. And here's the kicker. It doesn't matter whether the conversation is critical or complimentary. It's free marketing. 

Is it possible that a book deserves to be banned? Most of us remember what it was like when Amazon finally went after the people writing pedophile porn. Not many of us would defend those books. I guarantee none of them show up in Banned Book Week. Banned book week is an awareness campaign undertaken by the American Library Association and Amnesty International. Bookstores across the US participate in the event, featuring recently and historically banned books. High schools and colleges across the land hold challenges for reading banned books that week. 

Moral of my rant: Censorship = bad. Until censorship = not so bad when it puts a dent in active, demonstrable harm or criminal activity. But even if the worst happened and your book was banned? You'd very likely be crying all the way to the bank.

How do our characters censor their world?

 I’m with Charissa on this topic…hmmm, f*ck. Instead, let’s all sit and watch Geralt together, shall we? 

That would be far more entertaining than discussing censorship. It’s both good and bad…which is also a bit like Geralt. Censoring is a benefit and hinderance in our society because it all depends on the personal opinions of who holds the power. And like the rulers The Witcher comes across, benevolence never seems to be the driving force behind what’s censored. 

To an extent, anyone with power/responsibilities censors what is revealed or passed down the chain. So, how do our characters censor what’s around them? 

Choosing an action based on personal goals is human. Choosing an action based on the good of others is heroic. And that’s why we write our characters with a mix of human and heroic traits. 

Who wants to read about a Captain America who never errs? He’s the good guy who will censor the bad guys to protect the innocent…until Cap’s intentions cross the line and his censoring ends up hurting people. 

We want to read about the ones who save the day, but we don’t want them to be perfect because then we can’t see ourselves in them. And as a writer you want your reader to connect with your MCs and be able to imagine themselves in their shoes. 

No, this isn’t anything new. But bring bits and pieces of the real world into your writing and give your characters flaws. Let those characters with power censor away, and give your MCs the power to deflect or protect.

And now, let’s all go watch Geralt!

Seriously, if you haven’t read this series and are into high fantasy…HERE!!