Friday, October 30, 2015

The Fading Dusk: Blog Tour with an excerpt


The Fading Dusk by Melissa Giorgio
(Smoke and Mirrors, #1)
Publication date: July 19th 2015
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Synopsis:

In the gritty city of Dusk, seventeen-year-old Irina makes her living as the street magician Bantheir’s assistant. The job isn’t glamorous, but she loves the crowds, the shows, and most of all, the illusion of magic. But Irina’s world is shattered the night she is arrested and charged as Bantheir’s accomplice to murder—murder by magic.

Real magic, the kind that’s been forbidden since the old wars.

Irina finds the idea of flashy showman Bantheir using actual magic to kill someone laughable, but she’s the only one who sees how ridiculous the claim is. But how can she convince everyone Bantheir is innocent when they’ve already made up their minds? Desperate, Irina must decide who she can trust to help her win her freedom. Is the surly, handsome Captain Leonid telling the truth when he says he believes Irina is innocent, or is he just using her to get to Bantheir? What about Aden, the sweet soldier and longtime fan of Irina’s who claims he’s on her side?

Irina said she wanted to know the truth, but when she stumbles across a dark secret that changes everything, will she be strong enough to survive?
  





Excerpt from The Fading Dusk


I tugged at my bindings, wincing as the rope cut into my wrists. The skin was already tender from where the burly man had grabbed me, and the soldier who had bound me to the chair hadn’t taken any chances, tying the knots as tightly as he could. Did they expect me to run away the first chance I had?
More soldiers poured into the room, regarding me curiously. But no one offered to untie me or remove the foul-tasting gag from my mouth, even when I gave them the saddest look I could muster. Is this how the soldiers normally treated innocent people? It was beyond cruel!
Unless they really do think you’re guilty, a small voice whispered. But guilty of what? I was the one who’d been attacked! I’d say ask the burly man and his companion, but that was a little hard considering they were dead!
And where was Bantheir throughout all of this? Surely he’d come and rescue me, once he found out what had happened to his assistant? But what if he drank so much he had to spend the night at his new friends’ house? I groaned. Bantheir did love his alcohol—especially when it was free.
“Does it hurt?” a voice close to my ear said, startling me. I turned to see who’d spoken and my heart skipped a beat.
“Yuuu!” I said around the gag.
The blond boy who’d defended my honor at the magic show crinkled his brow, confusion in his grass-green eyes. His young face was whisker-free and still retained some of its baby fat, and his golden hair was cut short. His shoulders were broad under his uniform—my admirer was a soldier? Imagine that. “What was that?” When I didn’t answer, he removed the gag from my mouth and I nearly wept with relief. “Are your bonds hurting you?” he asked, giving me a gentle smile that caused something warm in my stomach to blossom. His eyes were such a deep, mesmerizing green that I found it hard to look away.
“Yes,” I said, giving him my sad look. “They’re cutting into my skin.”
His eyes widened, telling me my sad look had worked on him. He called out to the captain. “Sir, can I untie her bonds? She’s not going anywhere.”
I turned my sad look on the captain, who immediately scowled. Addressing the blond man, he said, “Just the ones on her wrists.” And then he went back to his papers, ignoring us completely.
The captain was clearly heartless.
“Sorry, just give me a minute,” my savior said, picking at the knots. “I’m Aden, by the way.”
“I saw you today,” I said. “At the magic show.”
He went red in the face. “Did you?”
The boy was too charming for his own good. “Thank you. For defending me, I mean.”
The rope slipped away from my hands and fell to the floor. “Of course! I’m your biggest fan!” His face went even redder and Aden backed away, stuttering. “I mean, that is—I go to a lot of your shows—but I’m not a stalker or anything.”
Taking pity on Aden, I held up my wrists, massaging them as I tried to get the blood flowing through my limbs again. “That’s so much better! If I’m never tied up again, it won’t be soon enough!”
He laughed, and a dimple formed in his right cheek. Catching me staring, Aden quickly looked away.
Now I was the one who started blushing. Why was this adorable boy making me so flustered? Was it because he was adorable? Whatever the case, staring into his eyes, I could almost forget that I was tied to a chair, arrested for a crime I hadn’t committed.
Then the door banged open with an echoing clang and I remembered to be scared.



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Purchase the book via Amazon and Barnes & Noble

About the Author:
Melissa Giorgio is a native New Yorker who graduated from Queens College with a degree in English. She’s always dreamed of being a writer and has been creating stories (mostly in her head) since she was a little girl. Also an avid reader, Melissa loves to devour thick YA novels. When not reading or writing, she enjoys watching animated films, listening to music by her favorite Japanese boy band, or exploring Manhattan. She is also the author of the Silver Moon Saga.

Author links:


Thursday, October 29, 2015

Takhayyal prompt 23: Halloween Is Here!

Welcome HALLOWEEN! And welcome Ladies and Gentlemen, Ghosts, Vampires, Werewolves, Fae, Zombies, Artists, Poets, Writers, Authors, Dreamers, Friends and Family; WELCOME EVERYONE to Nadaness In Motion's bi-weekly picture-prompt writing challenge Takhayyal!

This is the second Halloween-related post, some let's unleash the magic before the month is out.

Like the previous week, I have two prompts for you. Feel free to use one or both in your writing, which I expect will be MAGICAL and possibly humourous, dark or a combination of those. Your writing, your genre. Just let me read it!

Picture found via Pinterest. Artist unknown.



Artist Unknown. Picture found via Pinterest.


Arabic for Imagine, Takhayyal is a picture prompt for writers of all ages and genres and a means to get inspired and spark our creativity. Your post can be in English or Arabic, prose, poetry, short story, flash fiction; you name it and write it.


Also check out the previous Halloween-themed prompt. You can combine the images here or one from the previous post along with one here. Basically, FOUR Halloween images to choose from and/or combine.
Takhayyal 22: Brew Me a Potion

General rules:
·        No nudity, violence, and/or abuse.
·        Leave the link to your post in comments below OR post your piece as REPLY to this post
·        Your piece MUST be inspired in some way or other by the above picture(s)
·        Multiple entries allowed
·        It is not required but it is a nice and encouraging gesture to comment on others' pieces.
·        Feel free to add your Twitter handle (@....) so I can tag you in my tweets!

Let's IMAGINE!

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Anger's Children - Book Review


Anger’s Children by K.D. Rose
Publication date: 22 May, 2015
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Synopsis:
Strap on your seatbelt for this whirlwind of short stories that take you out of this world—literally!
-A goddess on a mission or a young adult growing up? In the paranormal world, who’s to know?
-Covert Action is supposed to mean “secret” but in a world of regulation, just what is everyone going so far out of their way to hide? Sex is a dangerous game. More than anyone could have bet.
-What if life was as simple as a game of dice or poker? What if human’s lived their lives unaware that they were pawns, played on a board by those who were just a little more than human? Would fate intervene? Would love mean anything? If you were a God among humans, wouldn’t you be just maybe, slightly, bored?
Life ending games? Or are they just the beginning? Dangerous. Risqué. A catch. There’s always a catch. Three tales that will blow your mind. – Note: My mind was far from blown and not in a totally positive way.


Anger's Children by K. D. Rose is collection of three short stories. Judging this book or writing its review is particularly hard, since I hated one of the stories, loved another and one remained in between like and dislike.
I must note, however, that the synopses for the stories were more interesting than most of the stories themselves. Sex is the focus of the stories; some of it was more disgusting than enjoyable.

The stories are not related and can be read in any order. In the first part or story, titled "Under the Shadow of Wings", I did not enjoy the narration one bit. It felt like bits and pieces were scattered and there was no fixed timeline. Also, there was a mention of mighty sword at the beginning but it was never referred to again, which was strange. There was also a transfer of power but there was no rising tension to meet this power surge.
In addition, contradictory tones in some parts, including "She had already won. She had just come back to collect." It's like winning and collecting – we don't know what exactly, probably souls, except that they belong to her and "all her dead relatives" – are being justified.
The story quickly shifts to impossible sex in an airplane restroom, which is tiny for one person, let alone two with one of them having wings! I also found the ideas she thinks are from her dead relatives rather confusing.
"Under the Shadow of Wings" was an overall weird story and I really disliked it. It was the opening story and seriously put me off the rest of the book for a bit.

The second story titled "Eyes Only" is considerably long compared to the first and last ones and makes up the bulk of the book. It is also the most enjoyable of the three.
It is a story within a story within a story with a spectacular twist at the end, making it far more complex than the other two.
With also a lot of sex, "Eyes Only" is bursting with suspense. It boasts several bits of imagery, including: "Like a junkie, my addiction to her had galloped out of control."
"Eyes Only" was not free of confusion, however. Still it is mostly enjoyable and interesting.

The third and final story in Anger's Children is "The Dark Man"
"You remain a poignant gossamer of idealistic dreams instead of a champion of organised power – an actual force to be reckoned with." – these words echo at the end of the story as well, resulting in an unexpected and intriguing ending.
As a reader, I wanted to know who the characters were. Are they gods? Or are they pawn in a game for the gods?
Even though the characters have names, we don't know anything about them, except that they have met – and had sex – several times before and that they have been around for centuries.
I also felt the storyline and timeline were quite vague.

Overall rating: Again hard to judge but 2-2.5 stars.
Note: I received a free copy via Xpresso Book Tours in exchange for an honest review.

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Rebecca Chastain brings you Gargoyles: Excerpt & Giveaway


Once again, I'd like to host author Rebecca Chastain and this time with her elemental novella MAGIC OF THE GARGOYLES.


Rebecca is kindly giving away two ebook copies of her book in celebration of both Halloween and the first anniversary of the book.



Magic of the Gargoyles (novella)
By: Rebecca Chastain
Publication date: 20 October 2014
Genres: Young Adult, Fantasy


Blurb:


Someone has kidnapped a nest of helpless baby gargoyles and is using them as pentagram focuses, devouring their magic—and their lives—for a horrific, illegal power boost. Swept into the dangerous underworld of black magic, earth elemental Mika Stillwater must cobble together her limited resources and skills to have a chance at being the hero the baby gargoyles desperately need. If she fails, the city will be at the mercy of the gargoyles’ murderers and their overwhelming destructive magic.


But pitting herself against powerful black-magic villains is proving just as deadly for Mika as for the gargoyles.


Here are the first two chapters of Magic of the Gargoyles:


1

With one last twist of a filament of earth magic, I fused together the delicate seams of the quartz tube. Slumping forward, I braced my elbows on the table and rested my cheekbones on my palms, cupping my weary eyes in darkness. Six down, six finicky tubes to go. The specifications of this project taxed my substantial skills with quartz magic, which was the point. This project would launch my business and prove that even though I was only a mid-level earth elemental, my quartz skills were equal to or better than more powerful full-spectrum elementals. These fussy tubes would fund the down payment on the lease for the shop I coveted in the Pinnacle Pentagon Center. I could finally quit my demeaning job at Jones and Sons Quarry, be my own boss, and begin a career creating one-of-a-kind quartz masterpieces I could take pride in.
            My entire future rested on these fragile vials, and they were due tomorrow at four.
            Dull pain pounded my back muscles. Night had crept over the city while I worked, and my jerky movements as I stood and stretched were reflected in the semicircle of bay windows in front of my worktable. Purple smears of exhaustion beneath my green eyes were exaggerated in the dark windows, and my pale face floated above a dirt-smeared navy shirt. I checked the clock: almost midnight. Sixteen hours until my deadline, and eight of those would be taken up by my Jones and Sons workday. There was no time for a break. If anything, I needed to work faster.
            Groaning, I redid my ponytail, tucking shorter wisps of strawberry blond hair behind my ears before giving my hard wooden chair the stink eye. Mentally chanting Pinnacle Pentagon to motivate myself, I reached for another seed crystal.
            Frantic tapping shook the glass in the balcony door. I pulled the door open, knowing it was Kylie, my best friend and the tenant who shared my second-floor apartment balcony. “I really can’t talk. I need to finish—”
            “Help! Help! They’ve got—”
            Something small and hard slammed into my stomach. I staggered backward into my chair and crashed to the floor. A small boulder skipped across the wooden floor and smashed into the wall. I gaped at the open doorway, stunned.
            “You’re a human!”
            I shrieked. The voice came from inside my room. I twisted, scrambling onto my bed.
            Against the wall, the rock moved.
            Beautiful blue dumortierite quartz veined with green aventurine twisted into a winged panther no bigger than a house cat. A pissed-off, solid-stone, magical, winged house cat. A gargoyle—no, a baby gargoyle. A hatchling.
            Her eyes glowed feverishly. Long polished blue claws gouged into the floor when she launched into the air. Her agile stone wings unfolded with a soft gritty sound.
            I lurched backward across the bed until I pressed into the wall. The mattress shook when the hatchling pounced on the space I’d just vacated. Sharp claws bunched in my yellow bedspread. She raised her muzzle, mouth open, and sniffed the air.
            I eased toward the foot of the bed, readying my escape into the hallway.
            “It’s you! Your magic smells so good. I thought—”
            My magic has a smell?
            The gargoyle’s eyes darted to the open door, then back to me. She arched her stone back and hissed at me, the sound dying to a hair-raising growl. The tip of her stone tail slashed back and forth, gouging my wooden headboard.
            “I need help.”
            “My help?” Gargoyles—even baby gargoyles—didn’t interact with mid-level elementals like me, and they certainly didn’t ask for our help. “There’s a full-spectrum just—” I started to point up the street but froze when she snarled at me.
            “No other humans! Before it’s too late.” The gargoyle’s words were smooth coming out of her rock throat, with just a hint of a lisp from her tongue working around enormous teeth.
            I stared into her glowing blue eyes, seeing past the bared fangs and agitated movements, reading her fear for the first time. I reached for her, then pulled my hand back when she shied from me.
            “Too late for what?”
            “You can save him. Hurry!”
            “Save him? Save who? If someone is hurt, I can send for a healer.” Where were this gargoyle’s parents?
            “No. I need you.” Large blue eyes implored me. “Please!”
            A thousand reasons I should find someone else to help the gargoyle crowded my mind, but the hatchling’s urgency was contagious. Someone was injured. I didn’t want to waste time arguing with her, but was I really the best choice? I could work earth, but healing usually took someone talented with all five elements.
            “Are you sure you don’t want me to get—” someone stronger? I started to ask, but she cut me off with another sharp “Please!”
            Gargoyles were creatures without guile, and this baby was obviously terrified for someone’s life. If she thought I could help, I had to try. I took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”
            The gargoyle whirled and launched for the open doorway, moving with the silent fluidity of a flesh-and-blood panther.
            “I’ll take the stairs,” I said. I snatched up my shoes and coat and raced to the door.
            My studio apartment was one of four on the upper floor of a converted Victorian house. At midnight, everyone else in the house was asleep, just the way my landlady Ms. Josephine Zuberrie liked it.
            As I sprinted down the stairs as quietly as possible, shoes in hand, I reviewed everything I knew about gargoyles. It wasn’t much. Gargoyles favored those strongest in magic—full-spectrum pentacle potential, or FSPP, elementals. When they chose, they could enhance a person’s magic, but I’d only heard of them doing so during large-scale rituals conducted by a full five of FSPPs. Despite being creatures of earth, they were not partial to any particular elemental magic; instead, they were attracted to a person’s strength of earth, wood, air, water, or fire magic.
            Which is why, as a mid-level earth elemental, this was the first time I’d spoken with a gargoyle.
            I eased the front door shut and dropped my shoes to the porch, wiggled my feet into them, and yanked the laces tight. When I spun around, the gargoyle dropped from the roof to the porch railing, almost clipping my head with a heavy rock wing. I swallowed a startled scream.
            “Hurry,” she trilled. With a squeal of protesting wood, followed by the crack of stone smashing into stone, the gargoyle leapt from the balcony to the sidewalk ten feet below. Wincing, I raced down the porch steps after her, praying to be out of sight before Ms. Zuberrie investigated the racket.
            By the time I reached the sidewalk, the gargoyle had almost a block lead on me, moving unexpectedly fast for such a small creature made of stone. In wing-assisted leaps, she bounded into the darkness. I sprinted headlong down the center of the deserted street, chasing the sporadic glimpses of panther-shaped dumortierite in the puddles of lamplight. The baby gargoyle kept me in sight, but only just. My lungs and legs burned after the first five blocks. My vision tunneled to the broken asphalt and gargoyle in front of me. I didn’t notice when the lamps ended, only that the dark blue gargoyle was harder to see, and by the time I did take in my surroundings, we were deep in the blight and I was lost.

2

The blight was the oldest part of the city long since abandoned by the wealthy and middle class, left to crumble and rot, and with it its impoverished residents. It was a seedbed for crime and a haven for the immoral. Doorways glowed with protection spells and menacing traps. Unseen eyes tracked me from the shadows.
            Alarm skittered through my body, giving me fresh energy. Ms. Zuberrie’s neighborhood was on the fringes of the blight—holding it at bay, according to my landlady—and her endless repertoire of blight tales gave me nightmares. To be here, at night, alone, was sheer insanity.
            A high-pitched sound, like an animal being gutted alive, echoed through the hulking shadows of old warehouse buildings, setting my neck hair on end. I slowed, having lost sight of the gargoyle. Menacing shapes loomed in the darkness to either side of the desolate road. I identified each item as I jogged past—empty trailer, rubble of a collapsed wall, enormous splintered wooden ward—trying to reassure myself.
            Someone rounded the far corner of the warehouse at a sprint, coming right for me. There wasn’t time to hide. I crouched, heart in throat. Before I could gather my magic, the wide-eyed, scrawny boy tore past me. He glanced once over his shoulder, but it wasn’t at me. I watched until the darkness swallowed him, then turned with new dread back in the direction he had come—and the direction the gargoyle had disappeared.
            Voices bounced and echoed from the warehouse walls, footsteps following. I sprinted for a pile of rusty barrels and crouched behind their bulk. Seconds later a horse-size fireball blazed down the street, scorching the pavement and casting sinister light on the graffiti-crusted buildings. I tucked into a tight ball, shielding my face from the heat and my body from visibility.
            The fire hit a stone wall at the end of the street and burned out. I blinked to clear the flaming afterimage, blinded. Whooping and shouting echoed against the metal walls.
            “Enough! Save it for the splinter-heads.”
            I peeked between the barrels. Five guys rounded the corner, a dozen fist-size glowballs darting chaotically around their heads. Three men followed. No, more. A whole gang. They milled together less than ten feet from where I hid, body-slamming each other and loosing war cries, all caught up in the same high. In the dizzying, erratic light, I could make out two important details: Every single one of them was dressed in bright orange Fire Eater gang colors, and all of them were linked with a potent amplification spell.
            Easing back to my heels, I curled into the tightest ball possible. Fire Eaters ruled half of the blight, and updates of the city guard’s ongoing attempts to contain their violent tactics featured prominently in the headlines of the Terra Haven Chronicle. From the size of that fireball and the amount of magic resonating among the men, I could predict tomorrow’s feature story.
            I didn’t even think about touching my magic, fearing they would sense it. I didn’t breathe. I maintained my cramped huddle until the men rounded the far bend in the street. Only then did I let out my breath and suck in a new one. I waited until I could no longer hear even an echo of their voices before I uncurled.
            “Hurry!”
            I jumped and clutched my heart. The gargoyle leapt from the rooftop above me and raced around the warehouse wall where the Fire Eaters had emerged. I shouldn’t be here, I told myself. This is a horrible, horrible mistake. But I’d promised the baby gargoyle I’d help. I couldn’t turn back now.
            I rounded the corner and froze.
            Moonlight bathed the expansive loading dock, illuminating an elaborate chalk pentagram the likes of which I’d never seen before. Someone had drawn five pentagrams, one atop the other, each skewed a few degrees so that every point had five points. In the center was a small lump of rock. The dock was empty of people. The tiny gargoyle paced the edge of the mutated pentagram’s circle.
            I edged forward, squinting at the focal lump in the center of the pentagram. My toes kicked something small, sending it clanging into the warehouse’s collapsed metal roof. I spun, checking my surroundings. I was still alone. I scanned the shadowed ground. Focus talismans—candles, rocks, glass, wooden carvings, crude fans—were scattered in every direction. There were enough for fifteen people, not the traditional five. If I hadn’t just seen a mob of Fire Eaters with the power of linked FSPPs, I wouldn’t have believed this mutated pentagram was anything other than graffiti.
            I wove a standard five-element test sphere. It popped into existence in front of me, then flattened to a pentagram the size of my palm, each side glowing with the magic of its specific element. If any harmful magic remained, especially a trap, it would alert me before I blundered into it.
            I floated the glowing pentagram safely across the chalk twice before I let the small star dissipate. I crept toward the lump. In the moonlight, it was impossible to make out its form. Kneeling, I grabbed fire, forming a ball of light. A small sun burst into existence above my head. I gawked.
            Light was the most basic fire spell, one I used every day. My glowballs were never larger than my cupped hands—any bigger and they were too weak to produce light. Yet the sun above me was larger than my head, and I could see molten flames arc within it, twisting and turning hypnotically. It was like I’d jumped from mildly talented to FSPP.
            “Impossible,” I breathed. The chalk pentagram was bathed in daylight. Was this strange design the reason for my enhanced powers? Had the Fire Eaters’ spell left charged fire elemental magic I couldn’t detect within the circle?
            The lump of rock moved. I stumbled backward, tripping and landing on my butt. The sun cast sharp shadows across the rock, the flickering fire within it making the rock look like it quivered. Slowing my breathing, I extinguished the sun and replaced it with a manageable ball of soft light, keeping an eye on the rock. When I realized what I was seeing, I scrambled forward again.
            The rock opened his toucan-shaped mouth and released a high-pitched cry that wrenched my heart. The baby gargoyle didn’t look to have the strength to lift his thick neck, and his long, spindly tail lay lifeless. 
            “Can you save him?”
            I jumped, having forgotten all about the gargoyle panther. She pawed at the chalk circle, careful not to cross it.
            My caution morphed to horror when I realized the significance of the hatchling’s placement. Using a magical creature as a pentagram focus drained the creature of its own magic and its life. Rumors said the average magical creature doubled a person’s power when used as a focus, but gargoyles were natural elemental enhancers when they chose; a scumbag who used a gargoyle as a focus would get a far greater boost. The idea was repulsive in theory, enraging in reality. It was black magic, punishable by nullification.
            I examined the injured gargoyle closer. Unlike the panther-shaped hatchling, this one’s body was mostly rose quartz, with sporadic coils of blue dumortierite. Jagged patches marred his otherwise smooth sides, and his entire stomach looked like raw, unpolished crystal. Acting on instinct, I reached for earth energy, refined it to resonate with quartz, and probed the baby gargoyle as if I planned to work the quartz. The sensation was like trying to capture an echo. The gargoyle was quartz, but he was also so much more: He was alive. I twined fire around the earth magic and trickled wood, air, and water into the mix until I had the right magical resonance. I pressed the mixture into the hatchling. A backlash of pain and fear ricocheted through the magic—not from my actions, but from the horror the gargoyle had already endured. The gargoyle’s feet and wings ended in acid-eaten, eroded lumps. Gasping for breath, I eased my magic out of the hatchling. My stomach heaved, but there was nothing to vomit up.
            When I glanced up, I met the healthy gargoyle’s eyes, seeing her anguish and anger. “I don’t know what to do,” I said, swiping at wet cheeks.
            “You have to help him.”
            “I don’t know how.” Helplessly, I stared at the suffering gargoyle. His movements were weak. He was dying, drained of magic and in so much pain. 
  

GIVEAWAY TIME!


a Rafflecopter giveaway



Rebecca is also the author of the Illuminant Enforcer series: A Fistful of Evil and the newly-released A Fistful of Fire. Check out my five-star review of A Fistful of Evil and my author interview with Rebecca (it's a bit old but still cool).




Happy reading!


Friday, October 23, 2015

Fairy tales, books, translation - an interview with author Nadja Losbohm



It gives me great pleasure to feature author – and now friend – Nadja Losbohm, who has been enthusiastic about all my projects and has been a great support to Nadaness In Motion.
Please welcome her and check out the interview below. Your comments and shares are highly appreciated.
Nadja Losbohm is the author of The Huntress series and Alaspis, both of which will be discussed in depth shortly.
 


About Nadja

Tell us a bit about yourself. (Are you a full-time writer? Do you have a job alongside being a novelist? Pets, family?...)
Nadja Losbohm: I’m Nadja, 32 and I live in Berlin, Germany. I work as a dental nurse and write fantasy stories for everybody who loves to read. My parents were into drawing and writing poetry when they were young, too, so it is thanks to them that I enjoy writing and reading so much. I also like listening to music, photography, movies and being with friends. I love to travel, too, but I wished I had more time to do so. 

Q: Your favourite food?
NL: That’s hard to choose. I like potatoes, noodles and chocolate. What I do not like is green vegetables.  : ) 

Q: What countries would you like to visit someday?
NL: I always wanted to travel to New Zealand, Canada, Asia, Egypt, USA. Maybe, someday I will.

Q: Who are you favourite authors of all-time? (English & German writers)
NL: I absolutely love the books of authors Karen Marie Moning, Robin LaFevers and Brent Weeks. They created such wonderful and amazing worlds – it’s impressive and a real joy to read their books. My favourite German author is Michael Ende, who wrote “A Neverending Story”. With him, my love for fantasy books began.

Q: Are you an indie writer? What do you think the indie scene is like in Germany? (I mean is it as popular and broad-ranged as the US and UK, are there many publishers?)
NL: My first book, Alaspis – The Search For Eternity, was published by a publishing company, but The Huntress is an indie project. When I started as an indie writer I didn’t know how big the indie scene is in Germany. It’s huge and it’s growing every day! I think it is great people get the chance to publish their works independently. I already discovered a few gems, which would deserve to be on the bestseller lists. At least that’s my opinion.

Q: What are you favourite reading genres?
NL: I really love fantasy books. I could not live without fantastic stories. But I also like to read crime and thrillers.

The Huntress and Writing

Q: What first inspired Ada and The Huntress series?
NL: It was several small coincidences that inspired The Huntress. When I finished Alaspis, I wondered what to write next. I live very close to a small church and I thought it should be part of a story. Then there was somebody, who said I’d look a bit like “Snow White” due to my dark hair and pale skin. After that, I saw a man who was the inspiration for “Father Michael”, one of the main characters. So, he really does exist, if you want so. J Together, all these little things helped create The Huntress. I also wanted to write a fun story, which makes people laugh but also feel.



Q: You've made references to The Grimm Fairytales in your novel, have you read them all and/or Anderson's Fairy Tales? If yes, which was your favourite?
NL: I did read a lot of The Grimm Fairytales when I was a kid. In Germany, children grow up with them. I still have a copy. I always liked “Snow White”, of course and “Cinderella”, “The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids”, “Little Red Riding Hood”, “Rapunzel”, “Sleeping Beauty”, “The Star Money” and “Snow-White and Rose-Red”. These are my personal favourite ones.

Q: Tell us about your journey with publishing The Huntress.
NL: It all started back in August 2012, when I wrote the first lines of The Huntress – The Beginnings, the first book of the series. I published this book in 2013. At first, you’re quite enthusiastic and everything seems to be so easy, but then you face reality. Writing and self-publishing your work is easy compared to promoting it. At least, that’s how I see things. : ) Over the last two years I published four more books in this series and also managed to release an English version of the first part, which was a real emotional roller coaster ride, but I just had to do that. The Huntress is a matter dear to my heart and I cannot give up on her. So, I just keep on working, writing, dreaming and hoping.

Q: Apart from Ada and Father Michael, are there other characters that appear frequently in the next three books?
NL: Yes, there’re a few more characters, which will join the series. I think it would be boring to just have Ada and Michael tell the story. In the first installment “The Beginnings”, Ada says she’s got siblings. So, we will meet one of them. Members of Father Michael’s community will be introduced, which play an important role. And we meet Ada’s and Michael’s child.

Q: How do you deal with negative reviews? Have some of them been helpful?
NL: It’s difficult to deal with them. But when you share your work with others, you have to be prepared for getting bad reviews. Once I got a real negative one and I still haven’t forgotten about it. Though I thought the reviewer’s opinion unfair, I also learned one or two things. Of course, you feel the need to explain yourself, but you shouldn’t. Just accept it and go on. It’s a process you need to learn. But I also think people should pay attention to their choice of words. Freedom of speech is one thing, but to insult somebody is a big NO! People should ask themselves more often: “If I’d be the author and somebody would say this or that about my book, how would I feel?”

Q: You have another book that I think is laying low a bit, Alaspis. Can you give us some info about it?
NL: Yes, that is true. Before The Huntress there was Alaspis. It took about ten years to finish writing the manuscript and to publish it. Why? Well, sometimes I was lacking inspiration and then I feared the end of the writing process, as it meant to say goodbye to the beloved characters. So, I put off the ending again and again.
Alaspis is a fairytale like adventure about a magical flower, which has healing powers. A dark lord longs for it and does all he can to find it. There’s also a brave but young king, who doesn’t want to be one and whose family has been keeping the secret about the flower for centuries. Alaspis is my baby, living a bit in the shadow of The Huntress, but it has a very special place in my heart. It was my first book and laid the foundation for The Huntress.



In the Works

Q: What are your current projects? After four books of The Huntress, is there a fifth one? Are you starting a new series?
NL: Actually, there’s already a fifth book of “The Huntress”. It’s called The Cradle Of The Evil and is the big final chapter. Well, at least for now. I really would like to write a sixth book. I enjoy spending time with Ada and Michael and have the feeling, that there’s still something they want to tell the readers.
I also would like to translate the second book of The Huntress series into English and publish it as a free read online. But that’s all still up in the air.

I’ve also been working on a children’s book with short stories and poems in German. Almost all of them are about values that are important to me such as respect, tolerance, help and hope.

Q: What genre would you be most interested in experimenting with?
NL: That’s a tough question. I really cannot say. As a child I wanted to become a marine biologist or an archeologist. I never thought I would write fantasy books. Now there’re seven of them. I also never thought I would write a children’s book. That idea just came to me “by accident”. So, who knows what comes to my mind in the future.

Q: Is there anything you'd like to add?
NL: To you, Nada: I’d like to say thank you for all your support, help and encouragement. To be able to work with you was a real pleasure. I’m very thankful to have met you.
To the readers: I thank you for taking the time to read this lovely interview Nada made. I’d like to invite you to visit me on Facebook and Twitter. Let’s find out together where this journey called “writing books” is going to take me but also you.

Also, find Nadja Losbohm on Goodreads. And check out my review of The Huntress.