Aura, my high fantasy novel about three siblings, fraternal triplets, fighting for survival in an evil land, will be free on Amazon from Friday, 4/26/2013 to Monday, 4/29/2013. In this land the Aura determines ones future. A strong aura will lead to a priest or mage, a normal aura a normal farmer or store keep, or a soldier. A weak aura will become a slave or laborer, while one with no aura is considered an abomination, one who cannot be controlled by magic, and the ultimate threat to the hierarchy. Into this land are born the triplets, one with a supreme aura that makes her the target of the Dragon God, who is in search of a new avatar to hold his essence on Earth. It will give her great power, at the cost of the destruction of her soul. One of her brothers is born with a weak aura and is sold into slavery, to eventually become a gladiator in the arena. The third is born without an aura, and is rescued from death by an order of assassins who kill magic users who abuse their power. The girl grows past puberty, and she is about to become the avatar of the Dragon God. It is up to her brothers to rescue her from a fate that is truly worse than death. Four reviews so far, with a 4.8 average. And one that I believe lovers of high fantasy will like.
Tomorrow I am going to attempt to put out my first news letter. I put the link to the mailchimp newsletter in my books in January. Since then I have sold over ten thousand books, but only forty-three people have so far signed up for it. It will be an experiment. Hopefully the subscription list will grow as I add content. Nothing I can do on my end, but put it out and publicize it.
I am halfway through the first revision of Exodus: Book 3. Should be finished this week, then will do the grammar and spelling checks, then off to the fan who has agreed to proofread it. Hopefully still out by the middle to end of May.
high fantasy
All posts tagged high fantasy
Aura is the last of the novels I wrote in 2010, which included Daemon, Afterlife, and the first two books of both the Exodus and Refuge series. I wasn’t sure when I was going to release this book, but decided the end of this month would be a good time, as there has not been a long enough disconnect between the first draft of To Well And Back and the first rewrite, and I don’t have enough of the next Exodus and Refuge books ready to think about finishing in that time frame. So Aura it is. After that I have three first drafts I wrote this year that still need to go through the full revision cycle, and everything else that is still unfinished.
I call Aura a High Fantasy, though there are no Dwarves, Elves, Orcs or others. But it is set in a magical world in which the technology is about Medieval or earlier level, maybe about the time of the Greeks. The world is populated by humans and the Gods they worship. Each God is the manifestation of an Animal, and there be Dragons in this world. The Gods all occupy a mortal Avatar on the world. The Good Gods join in a symbiosis with the Avatar. The Evil Gods simply take over the Avatar, destroying the soul of the possessed human in the process. Needless to say, very few vie for the honor of being an Avatar of an Evil God. People on this world all (or at least most of them) possess a magical Aura, hence the name of the novel. Those with powerful Auras can become powerful wizards or priest, wielders of great magics. People with normal Auras become the common citizens of the realm, while those with weak Auras are doomed to become slaves or servants because of the ease at which they can be manipulated. And those with no Auras? They are seen as abominations, especially in the Realms of the Evil Gods, as they cannot be controlled or affected by magic. Magical creatures can still kill them, and the byproducts of magic, such as burning buildings, can also affect them, but magic cannot directly work its power on their bodies.
The story revolves around fraternal triplets born to the headman of an out of the way village in the Empire of the Dragon God. The female of the trio is born with a more than double Aura, making her a prize to the priesthood. One of the boys is born with a less than average Aura, meaning he is destined to a life of servitude. While the last boy is born with no Aura, and is an abomination in the eyes of the Church. The parents hide all of this information from the authorities in their village without a Priest. But one day the Church gets word of the female child’s abilities and a priest is sent to test her and bring her back to the Capital, her fate to become an Avatar of the Dragon God upon her achieving adulthood. When the priest comes to the village he also discovers the abomination, and the fate of all the children is set in motion. The parents are killed, the daughter and the one son are gathered to be sent to the Capital, and the last son is on the verge of extinction when he is rescued by a man representing an organization of assassins who kill servants of the Evil Gods. The tale then revolves on the three growing up in their separate lives, until it is time for the sister to be sacrificed and made the Avatar of the Dragon God.
Aura was written as a novel that could be expanded into a trilogy, or left as a stand alone, depending on the reception it receives. And now for an excerpt showing the children at a very young age:
“Aiden, stop,” yelled the four year old girl, her long blond hair swirling in the wind that she had manufactured. Her younger brother, her triplet by birth, stopped in place as if he had hit a wall of air, his face screwed up in concentration as he fought against the force that had paralyzed him. But he did not have the power to resist, and was stuck as a fly in molasses.
The other four year old, a blond image of his brother, ran around the two of them, yelling at the top of his lungs in joy. The little girl gave him her best small child scowl and pointed his finger at the child.
“Arlen, stop,” she yelled, feeling the power building up in her, her Aura flaring. The other boy stuck his tongue out at her and continued his run.
“Now you stop that at once, Ariel,” yelled a woman who resembled all the children, hurrying in from the garden with a load of tomatoes and cucumbers she had just harvested. Margath Kleco glared at the child. “You do not use your power that way on your brothers.”
“Why?” said the child, her wide blue eyes looking at her mother.
“Because it’s wrong,” said Margath, looking down on the child. Aiden started moving again, his sister no longer concentrating on him.
“Why?” asked the little girl again, sticking her lip out.
“Because I will tan your bottom if you do it again,” said Margath, raising her voice. Ariel looked as if she wanted to do something, throw some of her power at her mom. She looked down, seeming to think better of it, then shrugged her little shoulders and ran away.
Margath shook her head and walked into the house. The finest house in the village. The wonderful village that was off the beaten path, where the priests rarely visited. She pushed the door closed and walked to the kitchen, dumping her apron load on the counter.
“Altonas,” she yelled out, listening for a response.
“I’m in my study,” called out her husband, the most powerful man in the village. The slave of their overlords.
“Did I hear you yelling at the girl again, dear,” he said, looking up from his desk where he worked on the figures for the village taxes.
She gave her husband a smile. She knew that he would do his best to make sure the priesthood got as little as possible while still satisfying their greed. And keeping as much of the production of the farming village as possible in the hands of the farmers. It was a risky proposition, and one of the reasons she loved him.
“She is insufferable,” said Margath, shaking her head. “She constantly torments Aiden. Some day she will grow too powerful for me to handle. And then where will we be?”
“But she cannot handle Arlen,” Said Altonas with a smile. “Perhaps he will protect us, when she has too much power.”
“Laugh if you wish,” cried Margath, her voice rising. “This is serious. How will she turn out but to be another evil priest or magician in this evil land.”
Margath turned away as Altonas rose from his chair. He hurried after her, grabbing her arms at the shoulders and turning her into his embrace.
“I’m so sorry, my darling,” he whispered into her long blond hair. “I didn’t mean to offend. But what can we do but try to raise the little hellion the best we can.”
“Why can’t we leave here?” she cried, looking up into Altonas’ eyes. “Go some place the Baalra’s priesthood doesn’t rule. Some place where we can be free, and even Arlen will be safe.”
“And where would that be?” asked Altonas, releasing her and walking back to his desk, reaching for his pipe and pipe weed. “Any place in the eleven regions and we would still be under the scrutiny of those Dragon worshipers. And we would be strangers, with everyone watching us closely, hoping to curry favor with the priests.”
“Then out of the Empire?” she cried, watching Altonas load his pipe and chant the words to light it.
“Where?” said Altonas, holding his hands out. “To the south, over the Hamalsar Mountains? To Vendahas? They worship Seteth, and that serpent bastard is just as bad as the dragon?”
“Then to the Horse Lords,” said Margath, pleading.
“True, they worship Narosta, the Horse God, who is an enemy of Seteth and Baalra,” said Altonas. Margath’s frown changed to a smile at those words, but her husband wasn’t finished. “The people are savage warriors, with no trust for anyone from our lands. They would most likely kill us as soon as they laid eyes on us. Which leaves the Pirate Islands. We are not pirates. And I have no desire to become one.”
“Then we are doomed,” cried Margath, tears brimming at her eyes. “Ariel is doomed to become one of those monsters. Arlen is doomed to be destroyed as an abomination. And Adien, if he is fortunate, will live a life in servitude to the monsters who serve to dragon God.”
“We can only do the best we can,” said Altonas, letting a puff of smoke out of his mouth. “And pray to the good Gods, the Gods of life, for deliverance from this evil that infests our land.”
“Like the people have done for centuries, when the priests aren’t looking,” said Margath, huffing back her snotty nose.
“Just like that,” agreed Altonas, nodding his head.
I know. I stole that line from an old Monty Python Movie, but I think it is true for some of the books I write. I loved Python. They were wacky and irreverent and took on some of the more nutty aspects of our world. But you could also tell that they knew their history, and were great imaginative minds at work. I also believe that I know my history, and my science, and my mythology. I may not be an expert on any of these subjects, though I come close on military history. But I also know I have a greater knowledge base than most, and I try to use that in my work. I still make mistakes, probably a lot of them, and I steal and rework ideas without shame or regret. I don’t copy them verbatim. I take them, combine them, and come out with something completely my own, just like a musician does with notes and musical themes.
In the World of Refuge I tried to come up with something completely different. I wanted to write in a High Fantasy World in which our own history and culture existed and had a major influence on the world. This includes art, architecture, science, religion and of course military history. I did not want to write an urban fantasy, in which Elf detectives track the Vampire murderers of the Great Mage in a fantasy New York City (though come to think of it, that might be cool). I wanted a world of Dwarves, Elves, Orcs, Dragons and Trolls, where there was interaction between them and Humans who remembered the history of Rome and the Battle of Stalingrad. So I came up with Refuge, the tale of humanity in the millions transported to another dimension where all of our fantasies, archetypes and mythologies were real, to a certain degree. The first story I wrote was set thousands of years after the entry event, and think that I might have lost some of the people I sent my manuscript too. Refuge: Doppelganger is also set in the far future, though I tried to write a tale that focused on some of the central characters, unlike that first book I wrote. Then I determined to write about the coming of humans to Refuge (at least modern Earth humans, as there were some there before), starting as most stories should start, at the beginning.
I thought of how these humans, without the use of magic, unskilled at muscle powered warfare, would fare on dropping into a world where most everyone could use magic, and the mighty magic users would be truly formidable. And I thought they would not do so well. But, as my favorite ESPN personality says, Not So Fast. Because I also thought about what would happen if those same humans brought some of their own toys with them. I thought that a Leopard 2 or Abrams tank would be pretty impressive. And would magically enhanced armor actually stop a 35mm cannon round, and if so, would it stop a 120mm high velocity tank round? Probably not. In the original book (The Quest, The Sword and The Cross) I had thought that magic would really depend on belief, much as Voodoo does in this world. A magic user would have to believe they could tap the energies needed to power their spell, then believe that the incantation would do what they wanted it to do. And people who believed in forces beyond magic (like a God of the Universe) would be immune to the powers of those who practiced magic. So, thought I, what would happen if several millions humans came through the dimensional barrier with weapons they believed would work, and belief in a God that would protect them from evil (in the case of some humans). Tanks, artillery and nuclear weapons would give them an advantage, but one that would only last so long. Eventually they would run out of fuel and ammo, and the beliefs of a several hundred million natives would eventually overpower the beliefs of the humans, and things would stop working.
So this is the gist of the story of the first two books of the Refuge series, humans transported to a world of magic who must use their advanced weapons to carve out a refuge for themselves. The next two books will deal with what the humans do when the tech stops working. I have noticed that in most fantasy worlds fighting is little more than a bunch of people meleeing around the field in individuals duels. I think this is due to the effects of magic on people gathered in formation. Conan by Howard was somewhat different, but then again magic is different in the Hyborian world, being mostly the summoning of Demons, who would probably not be too grateful to be released at a pike line while archers plugged them with hundreds of arrows. But humanity has a way of figuring out how to make things work, and disciplined armies of the muscle powered era almost always overwhelmed melee fighters. And hence the name of the next two books, The Legions. Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1 will be free on Amazon Kindle from 11/16/2012 to 11/20/2012. Book 2 is also available now, and books 3 & 4 should be available in the late Spring of 2013.
And now for an excerpt: This is about a young American woman who does know she is immortal discovering her abilities in a battle with creatures of mythology.
Jackie skidded to a halt on the grass as she came around a turn and saw what lay ahead. She had not imagined that the enemy would have anything like the three creatures she saw killing Germans with the huge maces in their hands. An APC lay tilted over on the side of the road, the turret on top dislodged from its mount. And the Lieutenant didn’t hesitate, fear totally removed from her adrenaline charged system. She ran forward at a sprint, yelling at the top of her lungs and firing her rifle at the nearest creature.
The Troll swiveled in mid step towards the soldier, bringing its shield up to bat the bullets from the American’s rifle away. She ran toward it, firing low now, watching as her bullets bounced off its skin and wondering for a moment what the hell she was doing. Then she was in range of its mace and the creature swept the weapon down to crush her.
Jackie dodged away from the blow and the monster brought the blunt weapon down onto the ground. It pulled the mace back and attempted a backhand swing at the woman. Jackie ducked under the blow. It brought the mace back again on a downswing, this time missing the leaping woman.
Another roar brought a shiver down the young woman’s spine, breaking through the warrior’s trance she had been a captive of, and she realized that another of the monsters was on her, coming in from behind. She caught a glimpse over her shoulder and dove forward, tucking into a roll that brought her between the legs of the first Troll, and the second missed with its swing, almost hitting its fellow, who gave an accusatory roar in return.
I need a better weapon, thought Jackie, feeling the inadequacy of the rifle in her hands. She couldn’t really use an auto cannon, it being too big and bulky to carry. And all the ones in the area were already manned. A grenade launcher might do some damage, but she didn’t have one of those either.
Jackie’s thoughts were interrupted as she became aware that the Troll she had dodged through the legs of was rearing up over her. She quickly dodged from its downward swing, then ducked the swing of the other Troll, then leapt backwards ten meters from the beasts, her eyes searching for a weapon.
How in the hell did I jump so far, she thought as the leap registered on her mind. Then time for thinking was gone as both Trolls came at her again, moving so they would come in on opposite sides. Jackie moved into a graceful dance that was perfectly timed, making both of the Trolls miss with multiple swings. The creatures stopped for a moment as the human back flipped away, staring stupidly at each other as their tiny minds tried to come up with a strategy to take the annoying warrior out of the fight.
Jackie noticed that she was not even breathing hard. Her reflexes were much faster than she had ever remembered them being. She was dancing around the creatures like Spiderman, one of her favorite comic characters. And while she wasn’t doing the creatures any damage, she was keeping them occupied, away from harming any of her fellow soldiers.
I wonder how strong I am, she thought, moving fluidly to keep the Trolls off balance. With a thought she was moving in, bringing her leg in as she leapt through the air. Her right leg rocketed out and struck her target Troll in the face. She was ready to ride through the kick and land on the monster as it went over. Reality was very different. Her foot hit the monster in the face, the shock transferred up her leg, and she bounced off with a sickening crunch of broken bone in her ankle, while the creature staggered back about a half meter.
Jackie landed on her back, feeling the agonizing pain in her ankle as the ground jarred her. She ignored the pain to the best of her ability, and rolled away as the second Troll brought his mace down on where she had been. Rolling up onto her feet, she felt nausea almost take her down again as the pain shot up her leg from the ankle. She backed up as fast as she could, hopping on her good foot, keeping a wary eye on the two Trolls that came after her with snarling faces.
A mace came at her from head high, and Jackie ducked under the weapon, then jumped with her good leg into the air over the second mace that was coming in at her waist. She was surprised that she still cleared the second mace, and came down well balanced on her one leg. The first Troll came at her with a back swing and she back peddled away, forgetting her injured ankle and surprised that it held up so well. Jumping over another swing and twisting in the air, she landed on both feet and felt no pain.
I know the damned thing was broken, she thought as she ran around the Trolls on both feet. But now there was no pain and the ankle was functioning perfectly. And the Trolls were again roaring in frustration as they chased after her.
Lieutenant Smith felt the physical shock of the arrow before she felt the pain. The arrow sliced through the back of her body armor, through her lower left thoracic region, nicking the heart, and out through the front of her armor. She looked down at the red dripping head of the arrow before the intense pain hit her brain. She could feel blood in her throat and coughed, which caused more pain. The roar of the Troll came to her as from a distance.
Something slammed into her hip and she was flying through the air. The agony in her side was warring for space in her awareness with the agony in her abdomen. Light and shadow flashed by before she hit the ground, adding more pain to the mix. She lay on her back, trying to pull air into her lungs through the pain of broken ribs, feeling the tread of massive feet approaching and knowing that any moment she would be smashed to jelly under a massive mace. That was her last thought as blackness unfolded over her brain and the world faded away.
I write science fiction and fantasy, and may take a crack every once and a while at alternate history. From what I have been reading I may be casting the genre net too far. It is suggested that I concentrate on one small niche in one genre, at least to start. But I have a passion for all of these forms. I especially have a passion for the series I have developed in both science fiction and fantasy. I have ideas for a historical novel or two in the future, but those will have to wait. I do this because I love to make up worlds, characters and stories. Because I love the settings of the fantastic, and the opportunities they give me to show how people interact in such foreign environments. And how people as we know them might interact with people we can only imagine. I don’t so this for the money, though I do hope to make a living at it some day. And a couple of vacations to Hawaii would also be nice. But if that never comes my way I will still labor away at trying to perfect a craft that cannot be perfected.
The main reason I have written such a diverse portfolio of tales is I was chasing the dream of major publication. Tried hard science fiction, vampires, steampunk, high fantasy, more mystical scifi, all in an effort to find something that would catch. I have finally come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as a theme that will catch. And if there is already a popular one out there, it’s already too late to get on the bandwagon. And again, I write what I write because I have a passion for it.
Years ago my wife of the time suggested that I try my hand at writing romance. This was purely a suggestion about the money. I recently read that fifty percent of all fiction sold is Romance, and another twenty some percent is mystery. But I believe that the folks who write in these genres have a passion for them. They love sitting down and figuring out new takes on old forms. What unlikely lovers can they throw together to let passions ignite. Or in mystery, who can they kill in what bizarre means while introducing new red herrings into the mix. They are successful at them because they love the forms enough to work their magic. Now I can sit and dream for hours about some fantastic realm of fantasy or the future. I cannot see myself sitting for near that long trying to figure out how to stoke the excitement in my romance. I put some romance in my novels, where it fits, and where I think it will advance the story or the relationships of the characters. I don’t think I could plan an entire novel around the romance. Or the mystery.
Fantasy outsells science fiction by a large margin, but I have a passion for good scifi, so I try to write in that genre and hope that it is good. I respect people who write in other genres because of their love of it. They too are following their passion.
Doug BrotherofCats Dandridge 