Monday, June 17, 2019

FROSTFIRE: Chapter One


Hello, everyone! Lauren here with a little treat for our followers and supporters. As many of you know, Anna and I are on our fifth draft of Frostfire and are back on the hunt for an agent. If you are a fellow writer, you may or may not know the importance of an established media presence. Anna and I have been working hard this year to build up our blog, Facebook, and Instagram. But as most things in life are, progress is slow. After a little discussion, we have decided to share our polished first chapter to Frostfire. So if you’ve ever been curious to see our craft and to understand what it is you are helping support, this is it. This is our baby. We sincerely hope you enjoy it, and look forward to the day we finally find our elusive agent and get to announce a publication date. Thank you for all of your support thus far.



Chapter One


Kyran jolted upright, his heart hammering in his chest. What had he… His head snapped to the shuttered window as someone screamed in terror over the clamoring cry of a bell. Kicking the quilted bed cover back, he threw the inn’s shutters out to find the village engulfed in flames. Bright orange light flared against the summer night as people scrambled from their homes into the muddy streets, panicked, fleeing in every direction, and over it all, a bell was tolling. He had to do something.
He jammed his feet into his boots, and raced out of his room and down the stairs. On the bottom floor, the inn’s other occupants huddled about the fireplace, hands clenched in fervent prayer, their eyes trained on the light. Candles were burning on nearly every horizontal surface, creamy streaks of wax running across tables and shelves. 
“What is happening?” he demanded, but they either did not hear him, or chose not to.
A scream outside cut abruptly short, and the supplicants flinched, but did not cease their prayers. Kyran looked from them to the door, but not a soul moved. He shook his head at them, muttering a curse for their cowardice, and threw open the door, breaking into a run as he left the inn.
The air stung his nostrils and throat, and he struggled not to cough as he closed on the first building where he saw a woman running away from the flames. She looked back as she ran, her eyes wide in utter terror. He started after her to ask what had happened, when another motion caught his attention, and he saw it. Whatever it was. It was hard to see backlit by the fire, but it was small, no larger than a hound, crouched upon the burning thatch as if bathing in the licking flames.
 The beast jerked on the rooftop, what must have been its head twitching sharply towards him as if scenting him. Kyran stared in blank incomprehension at the strange beast, recalling the old tales of salamanders crawling from logs after they had been placed in a fire. 
The creature threw its head back and let out an ear splitting shriek. Kyran clapped his hands over his ears, gritting his teeth against the piercing pain. The sound trailed into an excited chitter, but before he could even pull his hands from his ears, the beast launched from the rooftop. It smashed into his chest, knocking him flat onto his back, its claws biting through his shirt. He shoved at the thing, its body hard and oily like an insect, but it clung to him, digging hooked toes into his skin, its mouth opening wide to double rows of serrated bone, so close to his face he could feel its breath. 
In a flash, light traced through Kyran’s skin, pale blue lines that glowed like starlight as he let his control over the power in his blood slip just a fraction. The beast’s carapace crackled hideously under his palms, and it recoiled with a pained squeal, fire erupting from the tips of its clawed feet as it leapt off his chest, knocking him flat again. 
Beating frantically at the flames, Kyran scrambled backwards, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The beast let out another chittering yowl, charging him again, and he loosened his control even further. The lines of light beneath his skin flared to almost blinding brilliance, and the ground let out a torturous scream as the muck froze in an instant, turning to hard, slick ice beneath him. The creature balked, skittering backwards, hissing and spitting as the ice scrawled outwards from him towards it. 
He yanked his knife from his boot and brandished it towards the creature as he gained his feet, at last getting a decent look at the beast in the light cast by his blood. Its proportions were wrong for an animal, gangly, but far too alien to be a human, and it wielded fire. “Stars above,” he whispered. “What are ye?” 
It feinted towards him, and he thrust the tip of his knife forward, sending it shrinking back. It was afraid. He quashed the panicked sounds at the back of his throat with sheer will, tightening his grip of control again. It was a beast. A strange beast, but a beast no less, and he hunted beasts. 
As the light of his magic dimmed, the creature lunged, long claws reaching for his belly. He twisted out of its path, slicing at its hindquarters, his knife biting flesh. It let out a high, keening wail that sent gooseflesh rippling over Kyran’s skin as it skidded across the ice, steam hissing from the wound on its flank. He followed it, trying to mark it again, but the creature hissed and scuttled out of reach, the ice crunching as it sank its claws through the thin veneer.
“Get back!”
Kyran whipped his head around at the man’s bellow, and spotted a rider bearing down on him and the creature, the sound of its gait lost beneath the roar of the fire and the clamoring bell. The horse’s flanks were lathered and heaving, its muzzle frothing from exertion, but the rider seemed to be struggling to keep his seat, his feet bouncing, his hands too wide on the reins. He was going to go over its neck the moment it changed directions.
There was a hiss behind him, and Kyran turned again to see the beast lunging over the ice, its jaws stretched wide. 
Magic surged down his arm, lashing into the beast’s hide with another crackle of freezing flesh. The beast squealed and fell back, clawing at its face and neck, only to be engulfed a moment later by a black and crimson ball of flame that hurtled past his shoulder. The icy ground popped as the fire flashed the ice to steam, and the blast knocked the creature from its feet, sending it skidding over the ice and muck. 
Kyran’s eyes widened, his pulse nearly stopping in his chest as he whirled to see the rider, on foot now, his horse pelting away with a terrified bray. Another mage? He had never seen one before. Stars, he had started to think he was the only one.
“That ice!” the rider yelled, pulling his own dagger from his side. “Was that you?”
“What?” Kyran asked, dragging his eyes back to the beast as it began to circle, its attention switching between them.
“The ice!” the man shouted back, black fire limned with crimson dancing along the fingers of his empty hand. “You’re a mage! Is that your magic?” He thrust his hand forward, and more fire erupted from his palm, but the creature leapt out of the way, turning as it did and lunging again for Kyran, coming in low. The moment he raised his knife, though, it balked, turning its lunge aside and simply running past him. 
Kyran turned to follow it so it could not get behind him, keeping his knife raised as it continued to circle. He cut a glance at the man, at the fire he wielded so openly in front of him, and swallowed the denial on his tongue. “Aye,” he finally answered, nearly choking on the word as he admitted it aloud. 
“Watch your back,” the rider warned him, closing the gap between them and taking his side. “It’s after you.”
Kyran shot a quick glance at the man, but he couldn’t make out much before the creature made another quick scuttle towards him. As one, he and the rider thrust their hands forward, sending a blast of freezing air and black fire surging towards the beast. It leapt back, but could not entirely get clear. The rider’s fire caught the beast’s backside, setting it ablaze, and it bucked wildly, shrieking in pain before it dropped to the ground and began to roll in the mud, smothering the flames in the thick mud.
“Trap it!” the rider bellowed, circling out from Kyran’s side, obviously aiming to hem the creature between them. 
It took Kyran a second to grasp what the man was asking of him, until he saw the water gathering in the furrows the creature had gouged into the earth. The man was asking him to use his magic. 
With a cry, he thrust the tip of his knife at the monster and shoved his power through the metal towards the beast. The creature wailed in pain as frost splashed across its skin and the earth around it, enrobing it in a cocoon of frozen muck. It twitched, trying to move, to run, but it was trapped by the ice, part of its limbs frozen into the earth.
“Hold it!” the rider shouted, taking his dagger two handed and falling on the beast, driving the blade into its hide with an audible crunch. The thing screamed, its body going horribly rigid as something beneath the man’s shirt glowed with iridescent light. Then, as Kyran watched, its body began to simply fall apart, its limbs and skin, and muscle dissolving before his eyes as if consumed by some inner fire until there was nothing left, not even ash. 
The man sat back on his knees, letting out a short breath before looking up at Kyran. “Was that the only one?”
Kyran nodded, gathering his senses again, bringing his magic back to heel under his control. “Aye,” he answered, his blood dimming beneath his skin. “I dinnae see another.”
The man nodded and got to his feet, wiping his dagger on his trouser leg before sheathing it at his hip. “Good.” He looked directly at Kyran, the firelight casting deep shadows over his face, but Kyran thought he could make out that the man’s eyes were blue. “You did good with that magic.”
The compliment caught him off guard. “Ah, thank you,” he hesitantly offered in return. 
“It work on fires?”
“Aye, it does.”
“Good. We’ll get these fires under control, then…” The man flicked an eye up and down him, taking in his Isleish garb, no doubt. “You don’t live here, do you?”
Kyran gave the man a flat look. “No.”

“Let me buy you a drink then. As thanks. You know where the Drunken Wind is?”

Monday, May 6, 2019

Quoteable Quotes

"Never confuse a single defeat with a final defeat." 
-- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Saturday, April 6, 2019

Ace at Romance

Howdy folks,

It's been a hot minute since I've posted here. I really hit the ground running with this fire season. In addition, I have been working hard with Lauren on the newest drafts of Frostfire and Fated. Fingers crossed for both of those.

But, setting those aside, I wanted to talk about a question I have encountered recently after having come out as asexual and aromantic. To elaborate, I do not experience either sexual attraction or romantic attraction to people of any gender presentation. Neither do I lament this lack. I have had sex, both good and bad, and been in an intimate and long relationship. My point of view of the entire matter has always maintained that there is always something so much more productive I could be doing. It just doesn't do anything for me, as I never experience that "itch" so many people have described to me, that thing they must scratch. Sex is just an activity, one I could as easily replace with something more productive, like writing or baking a cake. And as far as romance, I admit I am willing to reevaluate my interest in that one day, but for now, the entire concept of being in a relationship and beholden unto another person simply does not interest me, and actually seems...unappealing, though I understand why other people seek it -- for companionship, reassurance, comfort, and many other reasons.

An enamel pin I purchased off of StoreEnvy from Kerin Cunningham
Somewhat understandably, I have been asked how this affects my writing, especially in the writing and enjoyment of character romances in stories. While I do not seek romance or sex in my personal life, I do enjoy watching characters in movies, shows, games, and books seeking it for themselves. There is a bit of a disconnect between myself and the fictional counterpart I am following if the plot is based heavily on characters experiencing and being influenced by lust alone, as that is not something I have ever experienced. I prefer to enjoy stories of complex relationships that develop over a long period of time (I mean a long time. Like several novel lengths). I also prefer novels to focus on issues apart from the relationship, which I like to see develop alongside the bigger plot narrative.

An acepride flag button from Laura, and an Ace Illuminati pin from Lauren (a long standing reference to not only the old internet meme, but our character on the game Secret World).
As you might gather, I am not an enormous fan of romance novels, though I do not dislike them. Often I read them with the intent of absorbing new and different ways to present language for those more romantic scenes I would like to include in my own stories. Often, this is how I personally achieve including romantic subplots in my novels -- I mimic either what I have seen in other novels that worked for that story or I base it on the observations I have made of the people around me. People watching is a favorite hobby of mine, and a great way to form new and interesting characters and perspectives.

Another important source of perspective for me are my widely varied acquaintances who do not mind my very odd questions about their sex and love lives. I am extremely grateful for their patience and understanding in trying to give me answers to questions they likely never expected to try to answer -- such as why people find lingerie appealing and why couples tend to have sex on birthdays, anniversaries, and other such occasions.

I am certain this very long post has opened up even more questions, and, so long as what you have to ask is respectful, I do not mind fielding them. Feel free to hit me up through our Facebook page.

https://www.facebook.com/anna.lauren.authors/

Until next time,
Anna

Thursday, February 21, 2019

Quoteable Quotes

"The ship in harbour is safe, but that is not what ships are built for."

--John Augustus Shedd

Thursday, February 7, 2019

Now In Colour!

Howdy Folks!

So, as promised in thanks for all the help in choosing the subtitle for Frostfire, below is Barrett in marvelous colour, courtesy of the dark haired beauty of our pair -- Lauren. The original artwork was drawn by Laura Ann of Ethereal Illustrations. You can find more of her work (and commission her for your own purposes) on Facebook.


Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Progress Report

Howdy Folks,

So, we are halfway through the first month of the year, and I have to say, things are going great so far! Lauren and I just finished what we hope to be our last major revision on Frostfire before a professional editor looks at the draft (Which we hope to score sometime this year through an agent. Fingers crossed). We ended up biting the bullet and dividing the (very) long manuscript into two books, and paring out a few of the extraneous characters, replacing them with more central ones to introduce more characterization for, and information about, our main characters (or at least one of them). It does mean we technically have two and a half of the Frostfire series' books written though! The (now) second one will obviously need some cleaning up now that it has been divorced from its other half, but that sure beats the Hell out of having to write it fresh.

Our next order of business is to polish up our submission packet and start sending those queries out while we work on some other projects in the background. It is likely we won't stay away from the Frostfire books for long, though. We both adore Kyran and Barrett, and have a lot planned for them. There is actually a document we have in their folder title "The Big Picture" that has our plan for the books mapped out. It is flexible, and changes some as we develop the books and characters, but it is more or less the plan we have envisioned from the beginning, and boy, are you all in for a treat.

As a reminder, there is a special treat coming some time this month, so keep checking our social media for what that just might be.

Until Next Time,
Anna

Sunday, December 23, 2018

Furbabies

Music, coffee, tea… everyone has something by their side while they write, helping them push through the idle fog blocking the creative process and keep them sane. For some of us, it’s pets. Sweet, troublesome creatures that they are, they comfort us when we’re frustrated, and annoy us when we’re in the zone. Cats, dogs, fish, birds, reptiles, and everything else.


Lauren shares her writing bubble with her fur baby boy, Jasper. He’s a 4 ½ year old mutt found as a puppy behind a Waffle House. After a few days of fostering, the decision was made not to adopt him out. We’ve been told that he is likely either a Springer, Brittany, or Aussie mix, but definitely some sort of good ol’ fashion Labrador mix. He’s an anxious doofus who is only happy if he has his mom near, but likes the freedom to go lay in the hallway when he’s tired of trying to lay on top of her Chromebook when she’s trying to work. He also likes to lay on top of Xbox controllers and TV remotes so you can’t find them. When he’s not silently providing moral support (or, sleeping adorably, as it were) he will sit as close to the computer chair as he can, often getting his chin on the armchest, and whine insistently to be given attention, because clearly he is far more important than the development of your novel.


Jasper
When in Georgia, Anna divides her attention between her two cocker spaniels, Tiana and Jasmine. They are seven and six years old, respectively, and playful as they are cuddly. Both are rescues, and both are as different as their coats. Where Tiana, the cute blonde, loves people of all types and will nosily demand attention by crawling into stranger’s laps and bumping their hands for pets, Jasmine, with her curly black coat, is the introvert dog, who finds meeting new people a little nerve wracking, and much prefers to lay by your legs of her own choosing, to be close without being smothered. Things are quite the opposite when it comes to the dread vacuum, though, and Jasmine bravely tried to murder the noisome machine, while Tiana cowers. The true struggle, though, comes when both are attempting to garner attention from Anna at the same time, and often leads to dramatic, snarling dog fights. Such is the woe of being so fiercely loved by two adorable dogs.

Tiana

Jasmine
What kind of pets do you guys have? What sort of kinship do you hold with them? What do you find them doing when you’re working on your writing? If you don’t have any writing companions, what kind do you see yourself one day having? Do you have any characters that own interesting pets, mundane or fantastical? Leave us a comment and let us know!


-Lauren & Anna