Tag: Monsters

Author Interview: Tom Fallwell

Posted March 12, 2016

Born in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma in 1951, Tom Fallwell had always had a love of fantasy Role Playing games and was a game master who created adventures for other players to enjoy. Now, since retiring as a computer programmer,  he is writing the fantasy stories he had always wanted to write and enjoying every minute of it.


  • When did you first discover your love for writing?
    Shortly after retiring, in 2014, I met a friend who immediately saw my love of creating stories and recognized my talent. Through her encouragement, I wrote a short story, a sort of Christian/Fantasy/Romance. It was well received by those who read it, and this encouraged me even further. I had a story in my head that I had only thought of a beginning for, with a simplified plot that I had in mind. I decided, why not? So I sat down and started to write. The story took on a life of its own and within six months I had a novel. The whole experience was so much fun, I never stopped. I kept writing, and I’m still writing.
  • Do you have a favourite place to write?
    I only have one place. Sitting at my computer. I use Microsoft Word and do all my writing at my desk, which is in my bedroom. I have no wife or children in the house, so I find plenty of solitude. I have a 42” flat screen TV as my computer monitor and a custom built quad-core computer running Windows 10. I may slosh stories around in my head all the time, but my desk is my only place to write. I don’t play music or have other distractions when writing.
  • Do you have a writing routine or process that you adhere to?
    Not specifically. In general, I have an idea and I form a rough outline of the plot, then I start writing. Almost inevitably, that plot changes as I write. I am not sure how to explain with words, but it is as if the story tells itself. I start down a path, then the story and characters take on a life of their own, and before long I feel like I am just writing what I am told to write by the characters and the story itself.
  • Are there any authors or specific books you aspire to?
    I have always been fascinated by the world that J.R.R. Tolkien created with his stories of Middle Earth. It is my greatest desire to create a world with the same rich lore and history, a world that is fascinating to the reader as much as the characters, and to create characters who come to life in the reader’s mind, just as Bilbo, Frodo, Gandalf and others. Tolkien is my hero. I aspire to be as well-read and remembered as he is.
  • What inspired you to write the Rangers of Laerean series?
    Back in the late 1980s was a phenomenon called the Black & White Comic Boom. There was an explosion of writers, artists and publishers to get comics on the shelves, and many made it to comic stardom. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for example, became an overnight success and has now been two live action movies, at least. Back during that time, my brother, David, and I created a Black & White Comic called Dark Regions, which was a fantasy story that I was involved in writing. We created a trio of characters that I have known intimately for many, many years. One of those characters, Baric, I had always considered a Ranger, sort of like Aragorn in Lord of the Rings, though not exactly the same.After writing my first novel, I knew I wanted to create a world like Tolkien. I wanted to create the whole things, politics, economy, races, all of it. I wanted to create a series of novels based on this world, and it just seemed logical to include Baric. So, the idea for the Rangers was born. Also, I loved heroic fantasy stories, again like what Tolkien did, so I created a group of heroes as the Rangers to be able to keep telling stories about this world. Not just about Baric, but about others as well. So, Rangers of Laerean was born and the Lands of Hir were created.
  • Can you tell us a little about your book?
    The first book, A Whisper In The Shadows, is an introduction to the Rangers and to Baric in particular. Baric agrees to help what is supposed to be an emissary from the region called Vaar’da, where a dark-skinned, elf-like race dwells. But Baric soon discovers that theWhisperInShadowsCover2_SM emissary, and exotic female who deems humans as barbaric, is not an emissary after all, and she has used deception to get a Ranger at her side for an entirely different reason.The Vaar’da, Whisper, is an assassin, but she is having nightmares that are tearing her soul apart and she is seeking help to journey to a place her drams seem to be pulling her. What she and Baric discover is something that neither expect, and they soon find themselves on a quest to save the entire world of Hir. Baric gathers a small army of fellow Rangers to assist them as they delve into the depths of an active volcano, Mt. Scorch, to prevent the destruction of all of Hir.Upon writing this book, it became apparent that this story was going to require more than one book to tell, so it has become a trilogy. Book #3, Where Shadows Fall, was released in February and is now available. I am currently writing book #3, The Shadow of Narwyrm. This trilogy tells one story, and I have many more in mind for the series as a whole. Future novels will cover different times, different places and characters.
  • Do you have a favourite amongst all your characters?
    Currently, I have to say Baric is definitely my favourite. That may change in the future. Who knows? I have created many characters on this journey, and I expect I will be creating many more.
  • Does your book contain a message for readers to consider?
    My main goal is to entertain, though I have no doubt I subconsciously do have messages in my writing. Upon reading the finished first book, I could definitely see a theme about prejudice that became quite apparent. But I don’t consciously try to instil messages.
  • Would you be interested in sharing a teaser?

    As his torch lit up the interior of the cell, he saw that last thing he could have expected. Inside the cell, chained to the wall, standing upright, was a fur-covered figure, as big as himself, with a lion-like face and ears, and a long, flowing mane. A Zumarian.

    The Zumarian’s eyes were closed, and he appeared to be unconscious. He wore a loincloth, but his chest, arms and legs were covered in soft, golden fur, fading to white around his chest. His leonine face bore a human-like nose and cat-like mouth, with a slight hair-lip appearance. The claws on his hands and feet looked formidable.

    His long mane flowed down around his shoulders, golden brown with braids on the sides that held the fringe back and out of his face. As they eyed him, his eyes suddenly popped open, showing sea-green irises around an overly large, black pupil. His mouth formed into an angry expression when he saw Whisper.

    “The gods are cruel indeed if they send a Vaar’da as my rescuer,” he snarled. His voice was guttural, but understandable.

    Almost instinctively, Whisper immediately assumed the air of self-importance that she had once displayed for Baric and other humans. “I would just as soon finish what someone else has started,” she hissed.

    “Wouldn’t it be to the benefit of us all to concentrate our fury on the Manenase instead of each other?” Baric asked in a determined tone.

    The Zumarian and Whisper both looked at Baric with surprise, as if they both had forgotten he was there. Whisper nodded, her gaze still focused on the Zumarian.

    “Sorry,” she said. “Old habits.”

    “Who are you?” asked the Zumarian.

    Baric looked back to the prisoner. “I’m Baric, a Ranger from Laerean.”

    The Zumarian suddenly grinned, showing a mouthful of sharp, pointed teeth. The grin could easily be mistaken as menacing, if not for the obvious delight conveyed by his eyes.

    “Then my luck has indeed changed,” the Zumarian chimed in a soft growling voice. “My name is Shaha. Mercenary and warrior. Can I assume you will set me free?”

    “Can I assume you won’t attack my companion?” asked Baric.

    Shaha chuckled, a growling sound, but definitely a sign of amusement. “You have my word,” he said.

    Whisper snorted and rolled her eyes, but she said nothing more. Producing some lock-picks from her robe, she went to work on the cell door. After about a minute, the lock clicked and the door swung inward.

    “Can you get the shackles?” asked Baric.

    “Of course,” she huffed, acting more like the Vaar’da Baric had first met back in Ronan’s office those many months ago.

    “Do you have weapons or armor anywhere?” Baric asked as Whisper began to work on Shaha’s shackles.

    “They took them from me,” said Shaha. “Where, I do not know.”

    The shackle around one of Shaha’s hands clicked open. He held it up and flexed his claws a few times, trying to restore the blood flow. “I can use these for now,” he grinned.

    Baric nodded. The claws were at least an inch long and looked razor-sharp.

    Another click, and Shaha was free. Whisper stepped back, returning her picks to their pocket inside her robe.

    “Remember who freed you, Zumarian,” she said with no small amount of contempt. Shaha just grinned, baring his teeth.

    Baric broke the tension. “Come, we’re still deep in the demon’s lair.”

     

    • What would say has been your biggest challenge and achievement in writing the Rangers of Laerean series?
      With this first story as a trilogy, I think my greatest challenge has been to tell the story so that a reader does not have to read the previous books in order to enjoy the current one. I try to give enough information about what has transpired, without becoming a boring documentary about the past. So, that has been a challenge for me. To make each book able to be read as a stand-along novel, but still have all three tied in as a trilogy.
    • What have you learned about yourself as a writer through writing the Rangers of Laerean?
      I’ve learned a lot more than I could relate here. It has been a fantastic learning experience. I’ve learned about the whole writing and publishing process, about the roles of copy editors, cover artists, formatting, and on and on. What I really learned about myself is that, I can’t do it alone. A good novel takes more than one person. I may do the writing, but to be a good book, it needs a whole lot more.
    • Do you have any advice for other aspiring authors?
      There are many people writing and publishing out there. If you want this to be something you can enjoy, then you need to take your mind off fame and riches. If your stories are good, and people like them, then word will get around. You have to promote, sure, but what I learned was to concentrate on writing what I wanted to write, and writing to please my own sense of style, not to try and become someone else. True, I love Tolkien, but I know I am not him, and I don’t want to be him. I want to be me, and if I am to become known as a good author, I want it to be because of what I wrote and enjoyed writing. It’s been a lot more fun that way.
    • Anything else you would like to say?
      Just thank you for the opportunity to answer your questions. I always enjoy interviews and meeting others. I ‘ve made many new friends since I started writing and I look forward to meeting many more in the future. It is always a pleasure for someone to tell me they enjoyed on of my books.
    • And finally, do you have any future works planned?
      As I noted earlier, I am currently working on book #3 of the Rangers of Laerean series, The Shadow of Narwyrm. I am also currently working on a science-fiction short story that I hope to enter into a contest. As well, I have more stories in mind for the series and other books in general. I have plans for much more. I’m still having too much fun.

     

    Website: http://tomfallwell.com
    Facebook: http://facebook.com/TomFallwellAuthor
    Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/11303749.Tom_Fallwell
    Twitter: https://twitter.com/RhemaTom

     


A Whisper In The Shadows by Tom Fallwell

Posted November 16, 2015

Baric is one of the famous Rangers of Laerean, a group dedicated to protecting the people of the Lands of Hir. Assigned to a task with a beautiful and exotic Vaar'da assassin called Whisper, Baric promises to help her solve the mystery of her recurring nightmares that are eating away at her soul and filling her heart with fear and despair. The quest becomes more complicated when those nightmares lead them to an artifact of unbelievable power that threatens the entire world they live in.

The quest soon becomes a dangerous mission for the renowned Rangers as a small group undertake a quest into an area of Hir that men do not travel, where monsters roam and thrive. They must delve deep into the bowels of an active volcano, Mount Scorch, to stop the impending disaster that looms before them. Into the very heart of the territory ruled by the demonic Manenase.

The fate of their world depends upon the courage and skills of the group of Rangers and their Vaar'da companion. Can they survive the quest and stop the impending devastation? They must solve the mystery of … A Whisper In The Shadows.

[goodreviews isbn=”B00VYL2426″ buyinfo=”off” bookinfo=”off”]


Author Interview: Brenda J. Pierson

Posted October 16, 2015

BJP Author PhotoHey there, Indie Sci-Fi/Fantasy! I’m Brenda J. Pierson, epic fantasy author hailing from Tucson, Arizona. My bio pretty much says it all: writer, bookworm, avid gamer, lover of tacos, and crazy cat lady. If the term “geek” is associated with it, I probably like it. I’m into everything from Doctor Who to Magic: the Gathering. If I have to pretend to be normal, I like to hike, camp, and crochet too.


  • When did you first discover your love for writing?

My first foray into writing was when I was six years old, believe it or not. I was desperate for a pet rabbit, so I wrote and illustrated a “book” called My Take Care of Bunny Book in order to convince my parents I was responsible enough to have one. It didn’t work out—I did draw a picture of me walking the bunny on a leash, after all—but I’ve never really stopped writing. I started my first fantasy novel when I was 19 and I’ve been at it ever since.

  • Do you have a favourite place to write?

My amazing husband has helped me turn the spare bedroom of our house into an office, and him and my dad (an amazing carpenter) worked all summer making me a giant writing desk. It’s my own private space where I can think and work, and I only have to share it with the kitties. I’m so blessed to have it.

  •  Do you have a writing routine or process that you adhere to?

I do my best writing when I’m half asleep, funnily enough, so I try to get to work as soon as my husband leaves for work. 2-3 hours 5 days a week is usually my standard writing schedule. Too much more than that and my creative juices run dry, and that’s just ugly.

  • Are there any authors or specific books you aspire to?

When I grow up I want to write like Brandon Sanderson. His Mistborn novels, and more recently his Stormlight Archive books, are sheer brilliance. But my very first writing inspiration and still one of my all-time favorite novels is The Demon Awakens by R.A. Salvatore. There’s something magical about that novel that just gets me all excited, no matter how many times I read it.

No Hill Without Treasure Cover

  • What inspired you to write your first book?

My debut novel, Soul of the Blade, was inspired by a piece of driftwood and a nap. I’d found this awesome root in a creek while on vacation, two branches joined at the bottom. Being the weirdo I am, I kept it. On our way home I dreamt this piece of driftwood was a magnificent double-bladed sword with the soul of a snarky assassin inside. It took me several tries and about four years to figure out how to make the novel flow, but it was well worth the effort.

  • Can you tell us a little about your book?

Soul of the Blade is about an assassin who gets his soul stuck in an enchanted sword, and in order to save himself he has to save the world. My second novel, No Hill Without Treasure, is about a man who has to battle half-sentient Destruction magic monsters while fighting the same magic within himself. I’m also the co-editor of Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology, which is a massive collection of stories revolving around dragons and green energy.

  • Do you have a favourite amongst all your characters?

Oh goodness. I love all my characters, but I do have a bit of a soft spot for the villain of Soul of the Blade. He’s just really, really evil and loves it.

  •  Does your book contain a message for readers to consider?

I write a lot about overcoming inner darkness, breaking out of what the world expects you to be, and finding your true self and living the life you want. Soul of the Blade has a running theme of trust and acceptance, while No Hill Without Treasure strongly focuses on creating your own destiny rather than following what fate seems to have set out for you.

  • Would you be interested in sharing a teaser? 

Sure! Here’s the opening to Soul of the Blade.

Aeo stormed into the king’s dining hall, sword bared, a trail of muddy footprints in his wake. It had taken little more than a glare and a grimace to send the ornamental guards scurrying away. Pathetic. They were supposed to protect the king? They were a waste of good armor and steel.

The massive table, a single slab of cedar polished to a mirror shine, was set with a feast that could have fed a small village. Haunches of meat, loaves of bread still steaming from the ovens, bowls of custards and more things Aeo didn’t care enough to identify. The smells combined until it was a sickening mixture of grease and sugar.

Fewer than a dozen posh noblemen were seated around the table. Aeo’s sword-arm itched to slay these gluttons like the stuffed and basted carcasses they gorged on.

He lifted his sword, letting the gleaming steel reflect the firelight. A few of the men glanced at him, but the meal continued more or less uninterrupted.

Aeo walked up to the table and dropped his sword directly on its center. Metal clanged against wood and table settings, upsetting several goblets of wine and splattering pudding on the nearby nobles.

The decadent meal was forgotten. Conversation hushed as every eye turned to him.

“Next time you send me on a contract, at least make it a challenge.”

He pulled a nobleman’s scarf, emblazoned with the crest of Halkron, soaked in the wearer’s blood, from his pocket. It followed his sword onto the table. Aeo smirked as the noblemen around the table blanched and fingered their own scarves.

He turned his eyes back to his employer’s. The man was short and pudgy, soft from a life of rich food and richer pockets. Aeo could reach him and slit his throat before he even realized he was in danger.

The king of Arata dabbed at his chin, leaving a smear of oil on his face. He tried to intimidate Aeo with a steely look of power and control. Aeo did his best to contain his laughter. That might work on politicians and sycophants, but Aeo was an assassin. The world’s best assassin. Empty threats didn’t scare him. But then again, not much did.

The king waved his guests away. They tried to maintain their composure as they scurried away from Aeo. Aeo just smiled. He could smell their fear even through their suffocating perfumes.

When they were alone, the king leveled his gaze at Aeo. “Do the words ‘secret mission’ and ‘tell no one’ mean nothing to you?”

Aeo stepped around the table, helping himself to tender duck and soft, fresh bread. “Please. Anyone could have infiltrated that camp. Your nephew may have been the prince of Halkron, but he was a miserable strategist and an annoying little twit. No one will miss him.”

“My sister may!” the king replied, slamming his ham-sized fist onto the table. A moment later he winced and rubbed it. “Don’t doubt the harlot’s love for her son. He was the closest thing she had to civilization in that barbarian’s court.”

Aeo rolled his eyes. The king acted like Halkron was some gods-forsaken land filled with heathens and animals, when all that separated its people from Arata’s was a river and a slightly darker shade of hair.

“That boy was her life.”

“And now he’s dead.” Aeo licked grease from his fingers.

“If anyone were to find out I was involved …” The king stood and started pacing, pausing to pick up the bloodied scarf with two fingers. “You were supposed to eliminate my nephew and make it seem as if another Halkronian was to blame. How can that plan work if you show evidence such as this to anyone you run across?”

The scarf fluttered back to the table.

“Are you saying you don’t trust those whom you dine with, Your Majesty?” Aeo teased.

“I can’t afford for this plan to fail,” the king replied. He fiddled with his many rings, sending flickers of gold and gems sparkling around the room. “Arata desperately needs a reprieve from this war. Halkron’s first strike caught us off-guard, and we’ve yet to recover from it. If it became known I had my nephew killed, Halkron will hit us with everything they have. Our army can’t stand against that.”

Aeo snorted and reached for a goblet of wine. “Families.”

He continued to pick at the nobles’ plates while the king paced and muttered. Aeo ignored him. The man may be ruler of the richest nation on the continent, but he was an idiot. The only reason he still held his throne is because of Aeo’s subtle political influence. Or his blade. Whichever.

While Aeo enjoyed eating the king’s feast and watching him sweat, another man entered the dining hall. He was close to Aeo’s own not-too-impressive height, but where Aeo had the solid look of a well-muscled warrior, this man was thin like a scholar. He held himself rigidly, as if the serenity plastered on his features masked the tension of a drawn bow. Aeo kept himself calm by sheer willpower. There was only one person in Arata who could make Aeo feel like a guilty child, and this was him.

Even the king, who was supposed to be the ultimate authority in all of Arata, did his best to remain invisible around this man. “Mage General,” he greeted.

“Your Majesty,” he replied. Somehow he managed to make the title sound like a mockery instead of a respect. It might be the only thing Aeo liked about him. “Allow me to extend my regrets at the loss of your nephew.”

The king shot a glare at Aeo. “I just received the news myself. How did you hear?”

“I am a mage, Your Majesty. Surely you can’t think Halkron is out of my reach.”

“Of course not.”

Aeo shook his head. He may as well kiss his boots and offer him the throne at this rate.

The Mage General looked toward Aeo. He inclined his head in the tiniest, most insincere greeting Aeo had ever seen. “I trust you are well?”

No thanks to your training, Aeo thought. Years of conditioning to turn me into the king’s assassin didn’t set me up for the happiest life in the world. “I do my best with what I have,” he replied.

“And that is all we have ever asked of you.”

The Mage General turned away, brushing Aeo off as if they had never spoken.

Even though the mage’s eyes were averted, Aeo didn’t dare release the shudder building inside him. Any contact with the Mage General, no matter how trivial, always left Aeo with a sheen of cold sweat on his forehead. One look into his eyes and Aeo could almost feel the man’s magic intruding into his thoughts, twisting and tearing them apart in order to make him obey. It didn’t matter that ten years or more had passed since his conditioning had been deemed complete. Aeo would never be able to hold onto his confidence in that man’s presence.

While Aeo tried to maintain his composure, the Mage General grasped the king’s pudgy arm and pulled him aside. From the tone of their whispers and the king’s scowl, it was clear he wasn’t happy with the topic. The Mage General grew more animated as he pushed his point, waving his arms toward the west and pointing to the ground as if to stab it with his forefinger. The king shook his head, without much conviction, not even trying to argue after the first few attempts.

“I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he said aloud, his tone weary beyond imagining. He didn’t look back to the Mage General. Instead, he raised his eyes to meet Aeo’s. “I have another contract for you.”

“So soon?” Aeo asked. “I’ve not had any time to enjoy my coin.”

“Your drinking and whoring will have to wait. This is urgent.”

Aeo sighed. “Of course it is.”

The king glared at his sarcasm, but Aeo just stared back. He took another drink of wine, not blinking.

The king looked away first. Coward.

“You say you want a challenge. I’ll give you one. Have you ever heard of the Bok’Tarong?”

Aeo shrugged. “Rumors. It’s supposed to be some kind of enchanted, double-bladed sword. Wherever it shows up, people die.”

“Do not discount such legends so quickly,” the Mage General said as he approached. The intensity in his eyes made Aeo put his food down, at least for a moment. “The Bok’Tarong is very real.”

“If you say so.”

The Mage General glared at him like he was a child in need of a good beating. Aeo had seen that look–and received the corresponding beatings–many times in the past. It took all of his willpower to return the glare without flinching.

The king interrupted their contest of wills. Aeo wasn’t sure whether he did so to stop it or because he was unaware of it. “How would you like to take that blade for your own?”

Aeo paused. That would be plunder worthy of his skill. And if the rumors were true, Aeo would never have competition for the title of best assassin in the world again. Not like there was much as it was, but still.

“You know my rule. I will not slaughter without reason. My target must have earned his death.”

“Yes, yes, the assassin with a conscience. I remember. The one thing we couldn’t beat out of you.” Aeo quirked an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. The king didn’t seem to notice. “I assure you, whomever bears the Bok’Tarong has more blood on his hands than you do.”

“And with the Bok’Tarong in your possession,” the Mage General added, “the tide of war will turn in our favor.”

Aeo saw something he didn’t quite understand in the Mage General’s eyes. He wasn’t just supportive of Aeo taking the Bok’Tarong–he was pushing for it. For reasons Aeo couldn’t begin to fathom, the Mage General needed Aeo to have it. “What’s so special about this sword, anyway?” he asked, forcing his tone to be one of calm and disinterest.

“It is, indeed, enchanted,” the Mage General replied. “One of the few enchanted weapons in the world.”

“What does the magic do?”

A pause, no longer than the blink of an eye. “Only the bearer of the weapon can be sure of that. The communion between bearer and blade is what makes the magic so potent.”

He was hiding something. Aeo was sure of that much. He knew more than he was saying, and that didn’t bode well for Aeo. The magic didn’t worry him, but the Mage General’s intensity did. If this was some plan to be rid of him …

The king, in a rare moment of insight, had noticed Aeo’s hesitation. He stepped in front of Aeo, leveling as firm a gaze as he could muster on him. “Your next target is the bearer of the Bok’Tarong,” he announced.

The order reverberated in Aeo’s head. The words burrowed through his thoughts and into his heart. Whether or not Aeo would have accepted was no matter anymore. The king had ordered–Aeo would obey. He didn’t have a choice anymore. His conditioning as the king’s assassin guaranteed that.

Aeo rose from the table and drained his goblet. “Where can I find this man?”

“He travels without reason. Who knows where he is now?”

Aeo glared at the king. “Then how am I supposed to find him?”

The king shrugged as if he couldn’t be bothered with details like that. “Ask around. Commoners love to tell tales. Someone who’s seen this sword will want to brag about it.”

“That isn’t much to go on.”

“You say you’re the world’s greatest assassin,” the king replied. For the first time in their long partnership, Aeo heard something bordering on true authority in his voice. “Surely that means you can find one man with a remarkable sword.”

Aeo squared his shoulders. If the king would challenge him, then Aeo would show him just how great he was. “The next time I see you, Your Majesty, the Bok’Tarong will be mine.”

He spared a glance at the Mage General, but little else. He wouldn’t say anything to him until he returned with the Bok’Tarong. Then he’d have something to rub that arrogant look off the Mage General’s face with.

Soul of the Blade Cover

  • What would you say has been your biggest challenge and achievement in writing?

One of my biggest challenges has been against myself. I have a host of medical problems which leave me constantly fatigued and in pain, so putting in the time day in and day out to actually make progress is a huge achievement for me in the first place.

  • What have you learned about yourself as a writer through writing?

I’ve learned I really do need a plan. At first I’d get a single idea and start writing without a clue where I was headed. Years of painful rewrites and deleting entire chapters has taught me to take it slower and figure out the story I want to tell before I charge in blindly. But I’ve also learned to trust my instincts. Some of my favorite plot twists or unique elements have come from an off-hand comment I made while writing, or a phrase I put in without thinking. Sometimes I think my subconscious is a better writer than I am.

  • Do you have any advice for other aspiring authors?

Write a lot and read even more. Take every opportunity you can to learn more. And never, ever, ever give up.

  • Anything else you would like to say?

Just thank you. Thanks to everyone who reads indie books, who writes reviews, who works to spotlight the little guys. The fight against obscurity is demanding and sometimes it feels like we’ll never get noticed. So to everyone who supports indie authors: y’all rock. Thank you.

  • And finally, do you have any future works planned?

I do! I have a prequel novella to Soul of the Blade, titled Soul of the Guardian, that’s due to release very soon. I’m also working on a new novel called Joythief. It’s set in a Persian-inspired fantasy world, with a poison that kills the part of a person they love the most. My protagonist is a princess-turned-thief who has to fight to preserve magic and save the world while losing her skills and identity as a thief.


WoR Cover

 

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