Thea Harrison's Blog, page 7

LIONHEART: Friday snippets

Happy Friday!

Starting today, I’m going to post snippets from LIONHEART every Friday through the month of August. They’ll be around 2,000 words or so long, with the understanding that I’ll break whenever there seems to be a good place in the narrative.

Please remember, as always when I post snippets of draft work it’s all subject to change (or even deletion). Anything you read will very likely have typos and grammar issues that will be addressed during the editing process. For that reason, I ask that you don’t post this in other places.

Happy reading!

Thea

____

LIONHEART

Chapter One

London, 1811

 

The attack happened long ago at one of those bloody masques King Oberon and his Dark Court had once been so fond of hosting.

In the early nineteenth century, those of the Elder Races—along with a select few humans, chosen for their Power and political influence—traveled from around the world to attend Oberon’s masques, and all of England knew that whatever the weather, snow always fell in the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens on the winter solstice.

The guests were treated to a lavish array of exotic foods and mulled wine, magic and mystery, all served by attendants dressed in spotless white, intricately embroidered uniforms. Intrigues always occurred, along with intimate conversations amid the entertainment. Illicit affairs were pursued in the shadows. Treaties were born, and sometimes broken, and there was always the opportunity to forge new alliances.

But mostly, the annual festival was Oberon’s way of saying fuck you to his greatest enemy, Isabeau and her Light Court. The richness of the revelry, the contrived excess—it all said, we dance in spite of you. We thrive.

Until at one masque, Oberon stood watching a swirl of costumed dancers. As he cast a silent spell, large flakes of clear ice drifted down from a cloudless midnight sky as if the frozen stars themselves fell to earth.

The flakes reflected pagan color from nearby bonfires, until the air glittered with brilliant gold and piercing light. All dancers came to a halt, and everyone stared upward in awe while fey music raced through the clearing at a hectic pace.

Laughter broke out, along with applause, even among the most Powerful and jaded of the guests. Oberon smiled to see one pretty Vampyre reaching up with a slender white hand to catch a flake. She stared, eyes wide with wonder, as the glittering ice melted in her fingers.

A sharp sting pierced Oberon’s neck, along with a sense of alien magic. It broke his concentration, and the weather spell fractured.

His reactions were swift and catlike, but even as he slapped one gloved hand over the spot and focused all his fierce attention on it, the brief pain faded. He spun around, his gaze racing over the crowd.

It had been an attack. He was in no doubt.

His gaze fell on one individual, a tall, handsome man in elegant evenig attire, wearing a plain, black domino. The man held a hollow reed between the fingers of one gloved hand.

His direct hazel gaze met Oberon’s. “I have killed you on the orders of the Light Fae Queen, and I must say I am sorry for it.”

Oberon’s lips drew back in a snarl. A savage roar burst from his throat as he lunged forward to kill the transgressor. Even as he sprang forward, an intense wave of dizziness struck him down.

Sharp voices soared overhead like the raw screech of hunting hawks. He recognized Nikolas and Gawain, even as he focused his attention inward, searching for that deadly thread of alien magic.

There it was, the enemy that had invaded his body. The magic wriggled deeper, seeking to enter his bloodstream. Where it touched, coldness spread.

Panicked hands gripped his arms, and another, more feral voice intruded upon his awareness: Robin. “Sire, what happened?”

“Assassins,” he managed to hiss.

He did not need to say more. His knights roared through the milling crowd, cutting short the festivities with drawn swords. Trusting them to do their jobs, he closed his eyes and concentrated everything on stopping the malicious spell from completing its work.

Time passed, while he tried spell after spell to counteract the attack. The masque ended early, and everyone went home. Over the next few weeks his knights roamed the streets of London, hunting the Light Queen’s Hound, Morgan le Fae, for that was who the assassin had been. They never located the sorceror. He had simply vanished, apparently into thin air.

Oberon retreated to the country where he continued to search for ways to eradicate the magic that attacked him from within. Some spells seemed to work, at least temporarily, and for a while the progress of the magic halted.

He gained a measure of time.

Weeks, months. Even years.

But each time, after a period of stasis, the bastard evil that invaded his body reawakened and burrowed deeper, always aiming for his heart.

It caused undeniable damage. He could feel himself changing. The closer the magic came to his heart, the colder he grew. Colder in his thinking, in his emotions. He grew crueler, more calculating.

Once he had taken lovers who had longed for his touch and chased him for another taste of the ecstasy he had given them. Then as he changed he took conquests, and although the pleasure he brought them was extreme, they did not beg for his return when he left.

After a few more years, he and his Court stopped hosting the annual Masque, and the Elder Races found a few popular venue in the Wyr demesne located in New York.

Oberon could see his changes reflected in the growing reserve in the eyes of those he had once considered his intimates. His family. They began to withdraw, and he didn’t care. His fight for survival was easier that way. He was growing to distrust them anyway.

The magic burrowed deeper until it pressed against his heart. Finally, he acknowledged he had to try a last, desperate gamble to save his own life.

He gathered the senior members of his Court together—Nikolas, Gawain, Annwyn, and the others. The puck Robin came too, to bear witness.

“The sorceror’s spell has almost won,” he said to them. “I’m losing control over my own magic. I must try to put myself into a deep sleep, for if I can stop my own heart from beating, his cursed spell might not gain victory. In the meantime, you must leave the palace while you can. I…I no longer trust myself.”

His cousin Annwyn clasped him in a tight hug, and he allowed it out of respect for the memory of how he had once loved her.

“We will never stop fighting,” she told him, her green eyes fierce. “Not for you, and not for Lyonesse. Rest well, Oberon, and know that you will awaken again.”

She would make a splendid Queen for the Daione Sidhe should he die. He almost killed her for it right then and there, but that act would have been anathema to the man he had once been, and he would not let the damned sorceror’s spell dictate the actions of the man he had become.

Stepping back from her embrace, he watched as they left.

The puck had lingered behind the others, his thin frame lost in a shadow. When they were gone, he crept out. Oberon said slowly, “Guard this place and watch them.”

Robin’s eyes gleamed. “As you wish, sire.”

But the question was, could he still trust the puck? They were all people he had loved and trusted once. He could no longer feel the feelings, but he still had the memory of feeling them. How could he trust his own instincts, when he could no longer tell how the spell was affecting him?

In the end, much as he hated it, there was nothing left for him to do but let go. Retreating deep into the palace, he cast the stasis spell that would plunge him into darkness.

There, full of rage, he slept and dreamed of vengeance.

___

LIONHEART

Copyright 2018: Teddy Harrison LLC

All rights reserved

LIONHEART Blurb and Projected Release Date

Here’s the blurb for LIONHEART. Hope you enjoy!

The projected release date is October 8th. I say projected, because that might change a little, but it won’t change by much. The date will get more firm once we get a pre-order up. We’re not quite to that stage, but we will be soon. As always, I’ll keep you posted. ~ Thea

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Thea Harrison comes the final story in her spellbinding Moonshadow trilogy…

King Oberon reigned over his Dark Court in Lyonesse for centuries, until an assassination attempt laid him low. Now he lies unconscious in his snow-bound palace, while his Power battles the enchantment that threatens to end his life.

A skilled trauma surgeon and magic-user, Dr. Kathryn Shaw reigns at the top of her profession in New York. Then comes a challenge she can’t resist—she is asked to cure the uncureable. Just getting close enough to try healing Oberon is a dangerous proposition. When she does reach him, he awakens too soon.

Roused from darkness by Kathryn’s presence, Oberon confronts the beautiful stranger who claims she wants to save his life. But the enchantment has frozen his emotions. How can he learn to trust her when he can’t feel anything?

Oberon’s desire is icy, devoid of all tenderness. Not only must Kathryn match wits with him, she must also fight her reaction to his touch, because there is so much more at stake than her own endangered heart.

For the Dark Court faces its most deadly peril yet. Its ancient enemy Isabeau, Queen of the Light Court, is obsessed with its annihilation, and Oberon must be brought to remember his loyalty and affection for his people.

Because if he won’t fight for them, Lyonesse itself may very well be destroyed…

 

Announcing new trilogy, upcoming account on Patreon, and other things

NEW TRILOGY

I decided to announce what I’ll be doing after I finish LIONHEART, mostly because I’m just so darn excited about it.

I did test the idea (very briefly) by sending it to one agent, who was very kind and generous with her time when she got back to me. After an interesting and informative discussion, which I appreciated very much, I have decided to go with my original vision.

The Maelstrom series will be based in the Elder Races universe and set in the Other land of Ys, which I wrote about in the novella The Chosen. As some of you already know, The Chosen was first released in December 2017 in a four-author anthology entitled AMID THE WINTER SNOW, with authors Grace Draven, Elizabeth Hunter, and Jeffe Kennedy.

Our parameters for that anthology were: high(er) fantasy romance set in the scene of some kind of mid-winter celebration, and we each met that with our own vision and in our own way.

Frankly, I loved everything about that assignment, and I had a fantastic time writing The Chosen. It felt fresh and exciting to me, and it’s in a corner of the Elder Races universe that feels rich with possibility.

The Maelstrom series is set just as war breaks out in Ys. It’s a violent, unpredictable, and unstable time, and the fight for survival leads to surprising and uneasy alliances as the need to find sanctuary becomes paramount. Not everybody is who they appear to be, and yet despite all this, love still strikes in the most unlikely places. Please note: I will not be focusing on Lily and Wulf from The Chosen. I’ll be writing about new characters, and new relationships.

Right now, I have three books planned. I’ll start with the first, QUEEN OF TREASON, directly after finishing LIONHEART.

***

PATREON

This fall, I will be setting up a writing page on Patreon to offer readers a more immersive fan experience. My Patreon page will be for super fans – those people who are interested in subscribing at whatever financial tier they are comfortable with, and who are hungry for greater, and more in-depth world-building, stories, and characterizations. My new assistant Gretchen and I are still working out the tiers that I’ll be offering, so I won’t go into more details about this right now. But watch out for news about this in the next few months.

Gretchen and I are both so tremendously excited about this. We’ll be coordinating the launch of my Patreon page to coincide with when I’ll be world-building and writing about the Maelstrom series. This is really going to be something special, and I can’t wait to start!

***

OTHER THINGS

I have had some unavoidable staff turnover, and my new assistant Gretchen will be taking on various tasks as she gets acclimated to her job. She is bright, warm, and wonderful, and I’m very lucky to have found her.

Cover reveal: LIONHEART

I decided to do a cover reveal for LIONHEART today, even though we’re not quite ready to put up pre-orders yet.

I’ll be putting together the blurb in the next few weeks, and I’ll share that too when it’s all polished and ready.

Hope you enjoy!

What are you reading this June?

I’m now back home again, after my weekend in Denver visiting family. Sorry, guys, no blog post today, but at least I did share some photos of the trip. Right now, I’m unpacking and doing laundry, and getting ready for my work week. 

Trying to turn off the “shouldas” in my brain

Good afternoon!

Yesterday was my 56th birthday, and I received so many birthday wishes I felt truly grateful and blessed. It was a great day. In fact, it was so great  that, even though I had decided I was going to work, I ended up only putting a half day of work in.

For the rest of the day, I focused on other things… but in the back of my mind, I still had that little voice saying “shouldas” at me.

“You shoulda worked.”

“You shoulda written more.”

“You shoulda cleaned house.” (Really? On my birthday?)

Seriously, that voice is the biggest bitch I know. She can tell me off and make me feel bad like nobody else can. One of my perpetual goals is to work to keep her silenced, so that I am truly present and joyful for whatever is occurring in my life at any given time.

After stuffing a gag in her shouty mouth yesterday I had a blast. I didn’t accomplish much beyond eating within all of my macros on My Fitness Pal. I’ve lost 23 lbs so far this year (I’ve hesitated to shout about it, because I’m superstitiously worried about jinxing myself)–and the weight loss is one of the best birthday presents I received yesterday.

Here’s to more weight loss, more joy, and more writing.

Brief, not-detailed update: my secret proposal has now been sent off to a select location in New York. Wish it luck! Whether it ends up being traditionally published, or if I decide to self-publish, I just know that the readers who follow my work will enjoy it and something amazing is going to happen. I’ll share news whenever I have any.

Have a great week, and don’t let any of your “shouldas” weigh you down.

Draft snippet from LIONHEART

For today’s blog post, I thought I’d share a snippet from the draft of LIONHEART. There are people who stand up just fine to Dragos’s overbearing personality, and Dr. Kathryn Shaw is one of them. And yes, she is the heroine in LIONHEART.

As always when I share something that I’m currently writing, this may contain typos and grammatical errors, and it may change during the editing process. Hope you enjoy.

___

When the Lord of the Wyr issued a summons to those he kept on retainer, one responded with as much immediacy as one could manage. While Dr. Kathryn Shaw was no exception to this rule, she also refused to walk out of surgery to accommodate his demands.

“Tell him I’m busy,” she said tersely to the nurse who had delivered the message to the operating room over the intercom.

As she spoke, Kathryn eyed the mangled leg in front of her with a frown. The leg belonged to a twelve-year-old boy who had taken a bad fall while trespassing on a construction site. It was a tricky operation that needed a combination of both magic and physical surgery—the only kind of case that Kathryn took on anymore—but she had her favorite surgery team with her, everyone worked really well with each other, and the boy stood a good chance of a near total recovery if Kathryn got it right.

So, she would get it right.

A few minutes later the dragon himself broke into her mind. Kathryn, I need you at Cuelebre Tower, Dragos said telepathically. Get here as soon as you can.

She paused, frustrated, and when the nurse beside her gave her an inquiring glance, she held up a gloved finger and shook her head.

Everyone else in the world had a telepathic range of ten or fifteen feet—everyone, but Dragos. His telepathic range was over a hundred miles, and Kathryn had cause to regret that more than once in her professional life.

She snapped, And I said I was busy. Is anybody on fire? Are any of the sentinels near imminent death?

No, Dragos growled.

Well, I’m in the middle of surgery, and as I’ve told you before, I don’t care for telepathic interruptions when I’m operating.

The Wyr lord was frustrated too. She could hear it in his voice. Can’t you hand the surgery to someone else on your team?

She could, but she wouldn’t. She told him, You wouldn’t want me to walk out on you if I was operating on you, would you?

As she had, in fact, recently operated on him, this hypothetical was more than a little potent. Recently, while in a battle to rescue his kidnapped wife, Dragos had been shot several times and taken a few hits to the chest. One of the bullets had come close to penetrating the truly spectacular protective casing around his powerful heart.

By his pause, she suspected that he was thinking of that injury too. No, of course not.

Then don’t expect me to do it to someone else, she said. If you don’t have a clear cut medical emergency for me to respond to, then you pick up your damn phone and call or text—and if I say you have to wait, you have to wait. Is that clear?

Well, get here directly after surgery.

Of course. But right now, I’ve got a twelve-year-old boy’s leg to save, so get out of my head—and stay out. She inhaled deeply to get rid of the stress, then turned her total attention back to the boy on her table.

Three hours and twenty-six minutes later, she finished and stepped back to let Angus close for her. Euphoria and relief flooded her tight body. Rotating her head to release the tension in her neck and shoulders, she stripped off her operating gown, gloves, and mask and headed out.

It had been a good afternoon’s work. Better than good. It had been great. She would have a better idea of the boy’s prognosis after his body had fully absorbed the spells, but when she felt this good about a surgery she was rarely wrong about it later. She was pretty sure he would regain full mobility.

But it was too soon to tell his anxious parents that. For now, it was enough to simply tell them that she was pleased the surgery had gone very well. She multitasked and drank a hot, bracing cup of coffee while she briefed them. After promising to check on his post op recovery that evening, she was finally able to head up to the hospital roof.

As she climbed the stairs, she texted Dragos. Out of surgery. On my way. Be there in 20.

His response was almost immediate. How is the boy?

That last caused her to shake her head and snort. Just when she got to thinking the Wyr lord was a total self-absorbed ass, he switched things up on her. She answered him rapidly. Doing well.

Excellent. Come to the meeting hall when you get here.

__

Copyright 2018 Teddy Harrison LLC

All rights reserved

 

New ebook cover for DRAGON BOUND

Sharing a little piece of visual goodness with you – Berkley Publishing has created a new spectacular ebook cover for DRAGON BOUND. (I’m not sure when the ebook files at online booksellers will be updated.)

Wednesday’s work: My latest playlist

Like a lot of other writers, I use a music playlist to help with creativity. When I create new playlist, I’ll often list to it obsessively while I go over and over certain scenes in my mind. By doing this I can work out plot kinks, generate new ideas, and maintain a high level of energy for a project.

This playlist is for my new project. While I have the project named, I haven’t gone public with it yet.

At first I felt AC/DC’s Thunderstruck was too hard rock and “shouty” for me… but as I’ve listened to it repeatedly I’ve gradually become obsessed with it.

A peek behind the curtain

I’ve been mulling over what I might like to write about today, and I decided to touch base on all the work that readers don’t see when they decide to pick up a book.

For example, I wrote almost 30K words on a series proposal earlier this year before deciding that I needed to scuttle the project. While the narrative was good, it wasn’t at the level that I wanted and needed it to be.

I’m happy I put the effort into it, because I learned some things. One thing I learned was, I am not in a place right now (and may never be in a place) to write a sci-fi romance series—even though I love sci-fi and romance. I discovered that I love reading it, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that WRITING it is my jam.

I also came up with great elements that I harvested to put into another project, so while this proposal isn’t earning any money the effort wasn’t wasted.

Another way to lose hard earned words is to realize that you’ve taken a story in a wrong direction. I have author friends who have had to cut 20K-30K-even 40K words from what they’re doing. That’s a lot of work. A 30-35K story is basically the length of Planet Dragos or other novellas that I’ve written, which takes me about a month to write. Making the decision to cut that much effot is undeniably painful, but sometimes it’s necessary to elevate a particular project. If it ain’t right, it ain’t right.

Here’s a third—I currently have a book sitting in an electronic folder that needs such extensive editing, I haven’t had time to get to it, so I’ve “trunked” it for now. This story isn’t in the Elder Races universe. I’ve had a few beta readers give me feedback, and I’ve even had the story copyedited… but when I realized where the story needs to go in the rewrite, I realized it would take too much time given it’s not in my fee-earning series, so I’ve set it aside for now. Some time, when I find the extra time, I’ll go and revisit it to see what I can make of it.

And here’s the last example: I’m in the process of putting the finishing touches on another proposal. This one, I’m very excited about. I’ve decided to see if a New York publisher might be interested in it, and if not, that’s okay, because I’m perfectly happy to self-publish it. I should be wrapping up the writing on this in the next week or so.

Normally this is the kind of stuff I don’t really talk about, and I don’t know that other writers do either. Mostly, I don’t want to get anyones hopes up on a potential project, in case for some reason it needs to be stopped. Also, cutting words from a story might be necessary, but it can also be a painful process—and nobody likes to read about a complainer.

There are other kinds of behind-the-scenes work. If a writer is traditionally published, s/he has relationships and contracts to maintain with their editor and publisher, and with their agent. And writing as a profession has a surprising amount of administrative work too, especially if you’re self-published. Some of the people I work with are editors, copy editors, and proofreaders, formatters, and cover artists, and I’m very lucky to have a part time assistant. But all of that is on the business side of things; for now I wanted to focus a little on the creative process.

Basically, in order to create something from nothing, sometimes you have to travel down a lot of side roads before you find the real yellow brick road.