Swift Six Author Interview – April Grace #YA #Fantasy #FairyTales

Name: April Grace

Please introduce yourself (250 words or so):

I’m April, I live in Milton Keynes, UK, with my partner and, two nights a week, his cheeky boys. I write YA fantasy books with a fairytale edge, and in Steel Princess’s case, a futuristic twist.

Tell us about your book(s) – title, genre etc (short)

Steel Princess is my debut novel. It’s a YA fantasy novel very much inspired by fairytales but with an evil steel queen who hunts humankind for sport, or takes them to use as her prisoners when they run out of the resources used to build more bots. It goes off into two different adventures, following Silver, the stolen heir of the Steel City who didn’t realise she was a princess until the guards found her family and accused them of treason, and Eden, a tinker in the palace who goes off on his own adventure to find his parents, only to be kidnapped by pirates from the magical enemy kingdom. I’m currently writing its sequel, Songbird Heir, which focuses more on the magical side, and some of the world’s history on the other side.

My next release will be a dark retelling of Snow White called The Girl Behind The Glass, if Snow White had a stepsister and a coven of witches to back her up.

When did you start your writing adventure? What was the inspiration for it?

I have been writing books since I was a teenager, and I haven’t stopped since. I wrote the original version of Steel Princess when I was fifteen, about a teenage android who wanted to be more like her human friends.

What writing plans do you have for the future?

I have a lot of books that I spent years querying that I want to get out there! Steel Princess is going to be the first in a series of four books, with a prequel as well. The Girl Behind The Glass is going to be a part of a duology, and there will also be other fairytale retellings set in the same world, with different characters popping up in different books. I want to show different sides of different characters and kingdoms through these books. So you might love one queen in one story, but they might be the villain in a different book. I also have a couple of Greek myth inspired stories as well. I just want to take the time to make them the best they can possibly be first.

What do you like to read?

YA fantasy, and some thrillers and contemporaries, too.

What piece of advice do you wish you’d had when you’d started your writing adventure?

Write the book you’d want to see on the shelf!

Links/Social media

Website: April-grace.com

Instagram: @aprilgrace1

Twitter & YouTube: @aprilgracereads

TikTok: @aprilgraceauthor

The World of Erana – The People -Part I

The fantasy world of Erana – which features in my Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles series, and the Tales of Erana is a complex world. Magic is illegal – but magic doesn’t know that and it doesn’t care. Mages are illegal, adepts are illegal but still magical people exist, mainly in hiding or unaware that’s what makes them a little faster, a little more talented, a better healer, a craftier thief or whatever. The Order of Witch-Hunters hate magic and seek to divide and rule.

But who are the people of Erana?

Races:

Humans – humans are the predominant race and the shortest-lived. Most humans are not magical if they are pure-blood humans, but it’s not unheard of. They come in many colours – the mainland people are largely pale-skinned but in the Far Isles and some of the Northern areas the people are dark-skinned, and the people who dwell in the Emerald Valley are dark-haired, olive-skinned folk.

Witch-Hunters are all human (or at least look human).

‘Passer’ humans – they have in their ancestry Elven or Trollish blood. It can be several generations back. They look human, but often these are the folk with a bit of magic. If they know of their elven ancestor most would keep it quiet.

Elves – Legally all elves are the property of humans – slaves. They have no rights in law and any elf who moves around must have papers from the human who owns them.

The Forest Elves dwell in the Shimmering Forest, their ancestral home. Much of it is remote, mysterious and unexplored by humans. Many elves are magical to a degree, but at a cost. The elves were once the predominant and most powerful race, but wars and the feared Plague decimated them – spreading to the human and Trollish lands and bringing much death. The elves are still blamed for the Plague and humans are wary.

There are a few Elven towns and villages within the Shimmering Forest, but for the most part the once-great civilisation is gone. Technically even Forest Elves are slaves – and periodically the Slaver raid the Forest, or the Witch-Hunters purge any elven settlements.

Hunters and traders (where they can be) the Forest elves live precariously on what the Shimmering Forest has to offer – with a little light agriculture where the land permits it.

City Elves – these folk live among the humans, either having been born there or having been captured and sold by slavers. Within the larger towns and cities, they are forced to dwell in the poorest area – the Enclave. Some elves live in the homes of their masters and many are harshly treated.

Elven women are considered attractive and are often taken (mostly against their will) to be Kepts to rich men. Male elves too – are taken to work in the brothels, and elves of both sexes usually end up with the hard, dangerous jobs – mining, physical work in the quarries, servants in the houses of the rich humans doing….whatever the human wants.

Half-Elves – legally with the same rights as elves (i.e none) half-elves are the offspring of an elven (or half elven) parent and usually a human parent. They are taller and stockier than elves but generally have pointed ears, an angular face and the wider set eyes of their elven heritage.

Trolls – The Trollkind live in the mountains and hills, and generally avoid humans. They are large, with curved horns on their heads and the male warriors have hard dermal plates on their bodies. Their skin colour ranges from black through to red, grey, even blue now and then, and often similar to the land around their home. They have long, curly hair and pointed ears.

A warrior race they are the only matrilineal race. Their rulers are always women – Shaman – powerful, wise women renowned for their ability to tell fortunes, and the future. The male warriors – called Hirik – are shapeshifters – able to transform into wolves or bears. They are a spiritual people – they honour the gods and respect for their patron god or goddess is very important.

Outsiders see them as strange, rather barbarian as the are often tribal wars, but kin is very important – and alliances can span decades and mountain ranges.

Most humans would never have seen a troll in the flesh.

In a dark world beset by tyranny and lies can love and magic entwined bring freedom? Dark adult fantasy with sizzling sorcery, romance and revenge.

The Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles Book I

In a world of forbidden magic, slavery and lies a group of outlaws seek a legend. Facing monsters, Witch-Hunters, hardship and unwelcome truths they must find what has been lost, and discover who they are.

Dare you follow?

The Shining Citadel – The Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles Book II

Mirandra Var must prove her worth to rule and find the deadly mystery within the StolenTower. If she succeeds, she will become the leader of her tribe. If she fails, there will be no tribe to lead.

The Stolen Tower – The Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles Book III

All the books are available as ebooks, paperback, large print paperback, hardcover and audiobooks.

Swift Six Author Interview – Derek Power #Fantasy #Mythology

Name: Derek Power

Please introduce yourself (250 words or so):
Being born and bred in Dublin, Ireland, I grew up with a healthy history of myths and legends in my blood. My grandfather instilled in me a love of reading from a very young age, pushing anything printed into my hands and then asking me about it when I was finished reading it. This led to my life long love of reading. I was probably one of the few people in my school year who asked for ten or twelve books at Christmas time, most of which I’d have finished reading before the holidays were over. The Kindle was probably the most amazing device ever invented, as my shelves buckled under the load and my floors wound up home to mounds of books going digital was just the best thing. All that reading over my formative years I guess getting into writing was bound to happen to some degree. Although the day job is one that involves working on computers, I never forget meeting my English teacher in the university canteen and telling him that I hadn’t gone into a writing degree. I didn’t think you could see a man’s heart break physically, but that day I saw what happens when somebody else’s dream for you is broken.  With any luck I will keep the love of stories, both reading and telling, going in my two little ones. My wife and I have read to them since they came home from the hospital and even now I can hear one of them reading despite it being way past bedtime.

Tell us about your book(s) – title, genre etc (short)
I mostly write about Filthy Henry, the fairy detective. He is Ireland’s first and foremost fairy detective, working cases that involve magical crimes which usually come about when the magical and mortal worlds collide. The series is a fantasy-comedy one, based in modern-day Ireland. Each book is self-contained so that a person can read them in any order and not really need to now what came before, or spoil what would come after. The cases then are based off the old Celtic myths and legends, with little tweaks so that they fit into a modern day setting. In the first book, for example, Filthy Henry has to work a case involving a leprechaun’s stolen crock of gold.

When did you start your writing adventure? What was the inspiration for it?

I dabbled on and off during my teenage years, but never anything serious. Then in university I entered a short story contest and won it, which sparked an interest in writing again (after seeing my English teacher in the canteen) so I dabbled again. But it wasn’t until 2012 that I started writing properly. The idea for Fitlhy Henry popped into my head after I finished reading a Discworld novel by Terry Pratchett. I grabbed a notepad, wrote out the rules for his universe, and then started plotting the first novel. Before I knew it I had ten pages of an outline and I was off to the races. After shopping the first novel around a few places and sadly getting nowhere I went down the indie publishing path and the adventure has been a blast. Filthy Henry now has five novels, four short stories and a podcast to his name.

What writing plans do you have for the future?

Right now I am working on a crime novel that doesn’t have any magic or sci-fi in it. It is grounded and based in the real world. It’s actually been fun to write because it is a challenge for me to not revert to form and throw in some comedy. I’m hoping to get the first draft done before Easter and then get into re-write mode. After that I have three more Filthy Henry novels planned out, which will be fast to write since I know the characters so well.

What do you like to read?

Basically anything. I mainly read sci-fi and fantasy, but recently I’ve been getting into crime stories and murder mysteries. My Kindle is always fully loaded with about ten books to read and then I sacrifice sleep to get through them.

What piece of advice do you wish you’d had when you’d started your writing adventure?

Oh drafts are your friend. When I started writing first I spent so long trying to get the perfect line, craft the perfect chapter, and I never got past page one for weeks. The lesson being that you just need to get the story written first, then pass over it a few dozen times. Draft one just needs to be written, then draft two to infinity can be for refining, fixing, tweaking, adding, subtracting. All you have to do is get the first one finished.

Author bio and book synopsis
Bio:

Derek Power is the mind behind Filthy Henry, the fairy detective. Born and bred in Dublin, he currently lives in Skerries with his family. He predominately focuses on comedy-fantasy works, but has dabbled in sci-fi noir with his novel ‘Duplex Tempus’. 

​

When not writing he spends his days refreshing the inbox wondering when Hollywood is going to come knocking for the film rights to his books. 

Filthy Henry: The Fairy Detective:
Filthy Henry is Dublin’s first and foremost fairy detective. Something of a niche job since most people do not know that fairies are even real, let alone need a detective. But when The King of the Leprechauns has his crock of gold stolen by some humans he requires the services of a detective. Lucky for him Filthy Henry is just the man he needs. The only problem is nobody in the world can stand him. Which does not really bother Filthy Henry as he is not too fond of the world either…

Links/Social media

Twitter: https://twitter.com/dcpower_author

Blog: https://www.powerwrites.com/

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/ap/xqkYXL/Derek-Power

Podcast: https://shows.acast.com/filthyhenry

After some sizzling sorcery?

The Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles Series – A sizzling #fantasy series.

Join the mages as they fight to survive in a land where their existence is illegal, elves are slaves and monsters come in many forms. An adult dark #fantasy series – 18 rated for violence and adult scenes. #LightBeyondtheStorm #IARTG #ASMSG #Sexnsorcery https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MXWV936

Excerpt – So Many Nights, So Many Sins – A Vampire’s Tale

Excerpt – So Many Nights, So Many Sins – A Vampire’s Tale

From Dark Tales and Twisted Verses (c) A. L. Butcher

Amber firelight flickered in the small grate, casting a dancing pattern on the grubby walls of the cellar-bar known as The Cavern. It was, some said, hypnotic; others said the fire heard and saw all – for even in summer it was never truly out, merely banked to embers. Fire had been the friend and enemy of man since Prometheus snatched it from the gods, and this particular blaze had been smouldering for years. Some said decades, even centuries, and that it watched all that went on. Whether this was true Wolfgang had no idea, but it was not a normal fire, and such tales served his purpose.

The Cavern had stood on this spot for at least three hundred years, and before this, various structures from longhouse to army tent to inn had been in the vicinity. This land was old, saturated with history. And blood. Battles had been fought, lives taken, lost and even given and through it, all the Cavern stood in one form or another, and its fire burned. Creatures who lived in the twilight world of the undead were drawn to this place. Perhaps it was the blood, perhaps there was something special here. Life was a lure, to those who possessed a parody of it, but in truth, no one really knew or dared to discover. It was the sort of place no one asked too many questions or expected honest answers and so those patrons with things to hide and enemies aplenty caroused in The Cavern in an uneasy truce. The fire saw all, and so did its current keeper. For now, both the fire and The Cavern had Wolfgang’s undead patronage, and both knew it.

Wolfgang Feuerleiben turned his bright hazel eyes despondently towards the blaze and shivered; as usual, he could not seem to get warm even close as he was to it. This place, generally, was cold, as old buildings often were, even with the impressive blaze. Wolfgang had no internal heat, nor did any of his kind; but habits are hard to shake and even a vampire likes to be warm. Bodies with no inward heat found themselves stiff and slow and it wasn’t like a vampire could bask in the sun. Wolfgang surmised it was a throwback to his human past. Memories faded, became corrupted or were forgotten; it was a curse and a blessing – an elder had told him. Wolfgang considered this – ‘memories went with morality. One could not be haunted if one had no memory of past sins and past transgressions’ the Elder had said. Yet almost all his kind suffered nightmares – or rather daymares and the Vampire Scholar who’d propounded his theory had died raving in a fire of his own making. Driven mad by the guilt of split blood. It was hard to be a monster. And much, much harder to be a monster pretending to be a man.

Synopsis

Dark tales of ghosts of war, blood from the Autumn of Terror, the wrath of nature, an unusual murder and a cynical vampire. Twisted poetry of loss and mayhem.
Some adult themes and language.

Winner of the NN Light Book Heaven Award for Short Stories 2021

https://books2read.com/DarkTalesTwistedVerses

N. N. Light’s Book Heaven Celebrate Audiobook Month

Are you an audiobook addict? June is audiobook month and there’s a huge event going on at N. N. Light’s Book Heaven Celebrate Audiobook Month. 31 audiobooks featured plus a chance to win a $75 Amazon US or CA gift card.

I’m thrilled to be a part of this event. My audiobook, The Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles, will be featured on 7th June. Wait until you listen to my audiobook clip. My narrator nails the characters and I’m so proud of it. Trust me, you won’t want to miss it.

Bookmark this festival and tell your friends:

https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/celebrate-audiobook-month

Excerpt – The Watcher – A.L. Butcher #Horror #Darkfantasy #HistoricalFiction

Excerpt The Watcher – A Jack the Ripper Tale (c) A. L. Butcher

There she was, that whore. Once more. There she was.

Beneath the flickering gas lamp at the corner of Dorset Street, Whitechapel, she strode, grinning a seductive smile at a passing sailor, just ashore and looking for company. He, as bad as the bitch whose breasts he felt and whose ear he nipped with yellowing teeth, the unseen Watcher thought. With eyes burning hatred and a menace previously unseen and misunderstood. It was, he thought, a righteous hatred, and they blaze all the brighter for it. The beast within told him so. For he was the beast and he was its creature, at once the same.

She could have been twenty or forty; the Watcher neither knew nor cared. She’d not see another year, another week, another night. The dim streets grew ever wickeder to those of her sort spreading around their sin, their poison. Defiling this town, this land, defiling HER. The Watcher shook his head; no more whores and this place would rise like the jewel it was. Not jaded and dull but glorious and fit for a queen. The beast within whispered in his head. “Cleanse this town, make it fit again.” And so he did. A knife in the darkness, once more.

Geneva liquor and poverty aged a person far better than mere passing of the years. In the greatest Empire on Earth, they blighted the land. Gin palaces, opium dens, and hash houses aplenty gave heaven and hell to those with money, and those without. Life was cheap, and oblivion cheaper. The Watcher knew these unfortunates dropped their drawers for a taste of it, panting and moaning beneath the bridges and in the alleys, with their grunting men, and their penny a tumble.

The sailor moved on. He’d had his pleasure with another of her kind and spent his last pennies in the tavern, and she was here to work.  Nothing was free in her line of employment. Except for death.

So there she was, alone. Death walked these streets – and tonight it watched the red-haired whore, who sang and smiled and patted her new bonnet. There she was. The whore. Alone.

The minutes passed, creeping towards death; ebbing away from heaven and him ever closer to immortality. The whore did not know it. Of course, she’d heard the tales, everyone had. Screamed by newsboys on every corner “another ‘orrible murder” but rent still needed to be paid. And so she plied her trade. Afraid. Denying it would be her turn this night. A whore, alone.

Another night, another customer. Fear curled in her belly; these streets were streets of blood, four of her sisters slain in just a few weeks. But hunger was the greater force. Desperation made Mary-Jane brave – so she walked the streets, as she had often done. It wouldn’t be her, she thought. As they had. It couldn’t be her. Besides the police watched the alleys and the thoroughfares. The streets were largely empty, save the desperate and the foolhardy, and those too much in drink or lust to know or care.

The Watcher stood, beyond the pool of light from the gas lamp. This night was his. She would be his. This woman wasn’t as much a drab as some of her sisters-in-sin. Lust rose, entwined with his loathing. Two joined as one, desire and disgust, powerful and compelling. He’d never understood why they went together, but then he was a simple man, not one of the mind-doctors who had been so influential of late. The beast within did not care. Lust and hatred, pain and desire…bound so close he could experience little else when the darkness overtook him. Now, however, he watched.

The hunt was almost as enthralling as the kill; the knowledge of their fear, their desperation, and yet still they strutted themselves, offering a screw in the alleys and passages of the East End, and more if the customer had money and the taste for it. Filthy strumpets, he’d said to any who’d listen. Never did he consider the terrible choices they made. Never did he consider their choice was no real choice. What cared he for desperation and poverty? Respectable women did not sell their bodies. They kept sex for the marriage bed. SHE did – his icon, the woman he loved above all others.

The whores’ sins, the watcher thought, was what damned them. And they would pay, in this world and the next. He’d save London. He’d save it for HER. Blood would cleanse the streets.

Synopsis

The year is 1888, and the place is Whitechapel, in the very heart of London. But the heart is bleeding. A mysterious killer is stalking women of the streets – his true name is unknown, but his legend will go down in history. This is a short tale of Jack the Ripper.

18 rated for scenes of violence.

https://www.books2read.com/TheWatcherJTR

Excerpt – Tales of Erana: Just One Mistake – A. L. Butcher #Fantasy

Excerpt – Tales of Erana: Just One Mistake – Adult Dark Fantasy

(c) A. L. Butcher

*Adult rated

https://www.books2read.com/Justonemistake

The candle spluttered in the attic as the wind curled about the badly thatched roof. Glowglobes were currently beyond Coel’s means so in the small flickering circle of meagre light Coel assessed his night’s takings. The tavern wench had gone to her own bed or someone else’s and in many ways he was glad; any undue attention would be unwelcome in the circumstances. Coel had got away with the theft, at least he could hear no hue and cry from below or boots on the stairs. With luck, the fellow would either not miss the trinket or simply not recall his movements that evening. There had been no mistake, not this time.

Darkness oozed lazily in the remainder of the room, nosing into corners, under furniture and behind Coel, unseen, part of it detached. “That was quite a performance, bard. You have some talent, and not just your music. Although your judgement is flawed, it is never wise to steal from a thief,” the voice was smooth, like liquid velvet and very sure of itself.

Coel’s hand moved towards the dagger nestling in his belt; it would not be the first time he had been called on to defend himself, although that was how he had ended up in this mess he thought bitterly. Just one mistake, then another and now, it would seem, another.

“I do not know of what you speak! I am not a thief.” His brain caught up and he continued, “How did you get into my room? The door was locked. I’m not a bloody fool.” Coel could hear his own heart pounding. There was something about this man which frightened him. He felt like a mouse beneath the gaze of a cat. Perhaps the hangman’s noose would have been the better option.

The slate-grey cloak swirled around boots of ebony leather and the cowled figure chuckled. “That lock was barely a moment’s work. I must have a word with the owner of this place about his security. I have yet to find a door in Erana which will not yield to me. You may as well remove your hand from that blade, or would you bet your life you are swifter than the Thiefmaster? I doubt it, boy, I doubt it. Believe me when I say you would be dead before that knife left its scabbard. It would be a pity to waste such talent, would it not?”

Coel removed his hand from the dagger, his sense telling him that continuing to draw it would be a terminal decision. Instead, he placed his hand on the table and the voice breathed into his ear, Coel shivered, he had not heard the man move.

“I thought not. Sensible lad, if a lying one. This too can be a skill which can save your life, if it is used correctly and with assurance,” Darius told him.

This menacing shape was right behind him and Coel began to turn, opening his mouth to protest, and found a gloved hand on his jaw, firm but not unduly painful. “Curious are we not? This may sometimes serve you well. As for other occasions, it is wise to accept things as they are, this is one such occasion… Coel.”

The bard caught his breath, how did this man know his name? The sweat began to pool in his back, making his shirt stick unpleasantly to his skin. Had this man been hired to kill him? Had his mistake finally caught him up? Yet as Coel’s brain frantically grasped at any hope and his fingers tried to overrule his brain and reach for the dagger he realised the man had said he was a thief. A robbery, that was not so bad. It would not be the first time.

“This is not merely a social call; you are honoured for the Master of Thieves does not always test a potential recruit’s skills for himself.”

“I usually charge for my skills, music and other kinds, if that is what you prefer. I can be flexible, and my tastes are…varied. Perhaps just this once I might offer them for free. Take the coin and the trinkets, take it all.” Coel’s brain finally caught up with the conversation, “What do you mean potential recruit?”

Swift Six Author Interview – Jon Cronshaw

Name: Jon Cronshaw

Please introduce yourself (250 words or so):

I’ve been a full-time author since 2017. I’ve zig-zagged between high fantasy, post-apocalyptic, and gamelit. I’m trying hard to stay focused on writing fantasy stories, but that doesn’t stop the Muse teasing me with ideas for space opera tales.

Tell us about your book(s) – title, genre etc (short)

My main fantasy series is called The Ravenglass Chronciles, this is a 21-novella series where each book is inspired by the tarot. My latest novel, Dawn of Assassins is set a few hundred years after The Ravenglass Chronicles and tells the story of a pair of thieves who are recruited by a master assassin. But they’re thieves, not killers.

When did you start your writing adventure? What was the inspiration for it?

I’ve worked as a professional writer for most of my adult life, mostly in journalism. I’ve written stories, comedy scripts, and lyrics since I can remember, so I’ve always had that drive to tell stories. When I saw I could bypass corporate publishers and produce books on my own terms, that’s when I decided to follow this as a career path.

What writing plans do you have for the future?

To keep writing stories in my Ravenglass Universe. As I establish the universe, I want to branch out into other media and work with other writers. There’s potential for video games, movies, and comics. It’s very exciting. It’s also meant that when I get an idea for a story, I ask myself whether it will fit in the Ravenglass Universe. If it doesn’t, I thank the Muse and move on. 

What do you like to read?

Books! And lots of them! I read in most genres. My favourite stories tend to be fantasy. Give me banter and swashbuckling and you’re onto a winner.

What piece of advice do you wish you’d had when you’d started your writing adventure?

Just because someone’s got a system that works for them, it doesn’t mean it’ll work for you.

There is no magic bullet.

Author bio and book synopsis

Jon Cronshaw is a full-time fantasy and speculative fiction author based in Morecambe, England.

Born in Wolverhampton, he has a PhD in the history of art and has written for local and national newspapers across the UK.

He’s an avid reader, podcaster, and history geek.

Dawn of Assassins:

Two friends. A master assassin. One deadly choice.

Fedor and Lev are thieves…not killers.

They lead a desperate life in the tunnels of Nordturm, conning and stealing to buy their next meal.

But when an assassin recruits them against their will, they are forced into a life they do not want and cannot escape.

If they leave, they will die. But if they stay, they must kill.

Can they survive the master’s relentless evaluation?

Is loyalty stronger than the will to live?

Will their friendship last the ordeal?

From the best-selling author of The Ravenglass Chronicles, comes a new thrilling adventure featuring a new cast of unforgettable characters.

You’ll love this high fantasy series, because these unlikely heroes have a story you won’t be able to put down.

Links/Social media

https://joncronshaw.com

https://facebook.com/joncronshawauthor

https://youtube.com/c/joncronshawauthor

https://instagram.com/joncronshawauthor

https://tiktok.com/@joncronshawauthor

You can also find Jon Cronshaw’s Author Diary wherever you listen to podcasts.

Y Goedwig Olaf – Argraffiad Cymreig – The Last Forest – Welsh Edition

Pan ddaw pobl i gwympo’r goedwig olaf, maent am gael sioc ysgytwol. Stori ffantasi dywyll fer am ddigofaint byd natur.

 #Ffantasi #Ffantasitywyll

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

https://amzn.to/3HqjzdK