Sexism in Fantasy Novels

We all live in a sexist world, though less so than it once was.  In our fantasy novels, however, more explicit sexism is often alive and well.  This is partly due to the fact that in many fantasy novels, especially of the high or epic fantasy variety, the society portrayed is quasi-historical or what I call "medieval-ish."  There's usually an aristocracy run by men, and a religion run by men, and an expectation that a woman must marry and have children.  Even when women do seize power, they have to contend with the mysogyny of their societies.

Take Cersei from Game of Thrones for an example.  None of the men in that series, odious as they might be, would ever have to take a "walk of shame."  Or Danerys, who rose to power only after her husband's death.  Westeros is a man's world, at least until things really start to unravel.

Even conttemporary fantasy Harry Potter portrays its share of sexism.  There are only two female Death Eaters named, for example, not counting Narcissa Malfoy, who is more of a hanger-on.  In the pro-Voldemort worldview, a woman's first duty is to produce pure-blooded wizards.

Then you have the works of fantasy that, rather than portraying a sexist world as a way to criticize misogyny, instead promote a sexist message themselves.  I would put Twilight into that category, as it glorifies controling behavior by a male partner.

There are plenty of examples of sexism in my own work as well.  The world of Hexborn is not kind to its women.  My imaginary country of Bryn is a largely agrarian society dominated by a male-centered magical aristocracy.  As it was during certain times and places in our own history, women are treated as the property of their fathers or their husbands, and the only path to a relatively independent life as a scholar is by entering a religious order and forgoing marriage and motherhood. 

Especially among the nobility, many women are married off at young ages, sometimes to men old enough to be their fathers or even grandfathers, and no one seems to think much about it.  Many of the girls with magical ability, at least the marriageable ones, drop out of school early lest they become too powerful or educated, and thus too threatening, to prospective husbands.  The queen’s value lies in producing a son, and woe betide her if she fails. I think you get the picture.

The sexism in this society even extends to the titular affliction.  Our main character, Shiloh, was born with a medical condition caused by the overuse of dark magic during pregnancy.  The extreme stigma around this condition is caused partly by the misogyny of the culture, which does not even consider the possibility that the mother might not be entirely to blame for this situation.

Shiloh, in some ways, steps outside the gender order.  Being hexborn makes her infertile, and her facility with fighting magic makes her too useful as a weapon to confine her to domestic duties.  This leads some to treat her, essentially, as an honorary man, as if they can’t bear to admit that she is a powerful woman.  Thus, she has to walk a fine line in order to remain “acceptable” while retaining her value to those in power.

Who are some of your favorite examples of women stepping outside of convention, either in fiction or history?  And how well do things work out for them?

Chapter 1 of Hexborn

It's been a while since I've posted an excerpt from Hexborn, the sword and sorcery novel I published this past July. Today I've decided to share the entire first chapter.  I do hope it will intrigue enough for you to go grab the rest of it.

Chapter 1
Our Duty to Kingdom and Crown

The dust betrayed them.  At the end of a long, dry summer in the Teeth, the hooves of their horses stirred up a cloud that billowed like smoke as they traversed the pass.  Shiloh made out a flash of blue that she reckoned must be Lord Blackmine's crest.  The Lord of the Teeth's men flew a banner with a white horse on a blue field. 

Not that we see it much, given his lordship’s lack of interest in defending his lands and his folk. 

The spots of red up in front she supposed might be Silas Hatch's household livery: a golden hatchet on blood crimson.

At least the man embraces his infamy.

She’d been packed for weeks, waiting.  She could have run.  That is what Brother Edmun had urged her to do, from his deathbed . . . Edmun, who had put her in mortal peril long before he'd learned to love her like a daughter.  

He had let Shiloh read all his letters to the City, the ones in which he’d begged the Hatchet to find a place for her at the Royal Academy.  He had extolled Shiloh’s virtue and her gifts at length, hopeful that his favorite old pupil would have mercy on his beloved young one.  But at the last, Edmun’s fear for her safety had overcome his hopes for her future, and he'd urged the girl to fly away before Hatch’s men came stomping up their mountains.

She had considered it.  As she'd wept into Edmun’s blankets after he'd finally breathed his last, she'd considered it.  As she’d watched his wands crumble to dust as they died with him, she’d considered it.  As she’d prepared him for burial, as she’d put him in the ground, as she had waited for weeks . . .

And, yet, here she stood, waiting patiently for an infamous, ruthless stranger to spirit her away.

As she watched the cloud of dust move ever closer to her home, she considered her choice one last time.  Her options were limited.  No other village would ever accept a hexborn stranger, and a bastard foundling at that.  Her own had only tolerated her because they’d feared to cross Edmun and her father, and because her skills had made her useful.  She was surprised they hadn’t tried to drive her out of town since her men had died. 

If not a village, then where?  Living as a hermit in the woods lacked appeal, not least because her ill health turned every winter into mortal combat.  Besides, the Feralfolk were not exactly fond of her.  She would be easily caught if she ventured any further west, closer to the City.  She had not the money to go abroad, to Estany.

Thus, she waited, and she hoped that all of her work, and all Edmun’s plotting, had not been in vain.  She wondered how the soldiers would react if her village failed to produce her.  

Not well, she thought.

It would serve them right.

***

Before Hatch and his men entered the village of Smoke Valley, there they were: a half-dozen charred skulls on pikes at the edge of the road leading down from the pass, a warning to outlaws to steer clear of the settlement.  He squinted and held out a gloved hand as if feeling for heat.  A muscle in his face twitched.

“Looks like they’re holding their own against the Feralfolk,” Perce observed.  The men grunted with approval after they traced superstitious circles on their foreheads.

“She, not they.  Magic killed them all,” Hatch countered grimly, before prodding his horse to continue past the macabre display.  He heard retching behind him and turned to find Wilar, the young priest sent to replace Edmun, vomiting into the brush. 

Hatch shook his head.  These high country folk are going to walk all over him.  Let’s hope he doesn’t pass out the first time he sees one of them chop the head from a chicken.

“A little girl from the Teeth, all by her lonesome, killed six grown men?” Perce asked skeptically.  “A girl who hasn’t even been to the Academy yet?  Isn’t it more likely this Brother Edmun did them in?”

Hatch fixed his sharp eyes upon his companion.  “That is possible, but as poor as his health has been these last years, I find it unlikely.  The rumors all say the girl killed them.  As to the child’s education, Brother Edmun was the finest sorcerer at the Royal Academy for decades before the war started.  He was the youngest headmaster ever appointed.  She’ll know more walking through the door than many of our most gifted noblemen know when they finish their studies.  You underestimate her at your peril.”

Perce held up his hands in surrender.  “Yes, Uncle.  It’s just . . . it’s a lot to believe.  A hexborn kid that he found in the woods grows up and kills grown Feralfolk without even having a wand to use?”

“She might have used one of his.  Stranger things have happened,” Hatch replied.  “And my source in South Lake has proved reliable in the past.  Evidently, the Feralfolk had just killed her father when the . . . incident . . . occurred.  That is certainly plausible motivation. 

“You’re not old enough to have been in the war.  I saw grieving wizards slaughter entire companies of men after losing a beloved companion on the battlefield; some of them were barely older than this foundling.  Power comes in unlikely packages, and rage can unlock any box you try to hide it in.”

“Where do you suppose she even came from?” Perce asked.

“There are a number of possibilities.  She was born in the last days of the war.  Many of the monks and nuns drafted into the fighting broke their vows in those days.  Of those who bore children from such illicit unions, some abandoned or killed them in the hopes of hiding their guilt.  Some ran off and became Feralfolk along with their offspring,” Silas explained patiently. 

“It is fortunate that the girl was found by someone interested in proving his loyalty.  Had she been raised a Feral, or spirited out of the country by the king’s enemies, she could have become a significant problem for the realm.  A weapon like that, in hostile hands,” Silas concluded, “could be devastating.”

“Do you think she’ll come quietly, Uncle Silas?”

“I think the chances are good.  Edmun claims that she is as devout and patriotic a lass as could be found anywhere.  Even if that is an exaggeration, if she were not clever, Edmun would not have bothered with her.  He never was an easy man to impress.  I doubt he gentled with age,” Silas opined.

“And if she seems like a threat, once we have her in hand?” his nephew asked.

Silas turned his intimidating gaze upon Perce once again.  “Then we shall fulfill our duty to kingdom and crown.  Why do you suppose King Rischar sent me to handle this myself?”

***

For an object of near universal fear and loathing, Shiloh found Silas Hatch to be rather unremarkable in appearance.  Average in height and build, he was blessed with unblemished skin of warm bronze and a full head of curly, dark hair.  His eyes were his most striking feature; green and sharp, they gave the impression of missing nothing.  His clothing, all black as befit a barrister, was well-made and showed no signs of wear.  His boots looked fine enough to provoke envy in a lord.  The king’s patronage was, evidently, lucrative. 

The king’s man was accompanied by about three dozen soldiers, a nervous young priest in robes of brown, and a young man dressed in City clothes.  Shiloh assumed he was another courtier or an assistant of some sort.  He had a pampered air about him, and a rather punchable face, she thought.

“My name is Silas Hatch.  I am here, in the service of the king, to collect a girl named Shiloh Teethborn,” the king’s man cried, projecting his voice to be heard by the entire crowd. 

Shiloh had thought she’d been prepared to hear those words, but her breath still caught anxiously at the sound of them.  Hatch’s voice was deep as a mineshaft and promised twice the danger.

The townsfolk gathered in the square said nothing, even surrounded as they were by dozens of armed men.  They might have spit and cast signs every time Shiloh walked by, and called her a freak under their breaths on the daily, but she was their freak, and they weren’t going to rat her out to some rich courtier from the City if they could help it.

“The girl will not be harmed,” Hatch assured them, seemingly misreading their spiteful reluctance as actual concern.  “She has been offered a place at the Royal Academy of Mages.  It is a tremendous honor to be thus invited into royal service.”

Still, they said nothing.

“If we cannot locate her, I will order these men to start burning down houses after they tear them apart looking for her,” Hatch warned, changing tack.  “I would rather not be forced to do you harm.”

“That won’t be necessary, my lord.  I am ready to go,” Shiloh replied, stepping out of a shadow next to the Temple, her bag on her shoulder.  Her neighbors all traced circles on their foreheads.  Their relief at her timely appearance on this particular occasion was, nevertheless, obvious.

Hatch eyed her appraisingly, lingering on her hook.  “I am not a lord.  I am but a simple barrister, blessed to be in the king’s service,” he replied before demanding, “Show me your eyes.”

She obeyed, stepping into the light and pushing back her hood to reveal the unnaturally colored eyes that were one of the hallmarks of her condition.  She squinted in the bright sunlight, her pink irises glowing.  Finally, he nodded, seemingly satisfied as to her identity.   

“Good.  We shall leave immediately.  I want to make our last camp before dark.” 

His gaze fell upon the steel hook that served as Shiloh’s left hand. 

“First, I shall need to take your weapon,” he added. 

“Well, master barrister, this isn’t a weapon.  It’s my hand,” she calmly replied.

“Nevertheless,” Hatch countered, implacable, but his eyes betrayed some sympathy.

Shiloh pressed her lips together until they nearly disappeared.  Wordlessly, she turned and began stalking off toward the trees.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hatch demanded.

Shiloh wheeled on him with a glare that could have cut his throat.  “I don’t know how they behave in the City, but here in the hills, a woman does not disrobe in public.  I will return presently.  You need not fear.” 

She straightened her back, lifted her chin, and strode quickly away.  A few of the townspeople snickered.

“If you run, they will be punished, and so will you be,” Hatch warned loudly.  She made no reply.

***

Silas Hatch waited for the girl to return, his eyes never leaving the spot where she’d crossed into the forest.  He was not a man to take chances.  He didn’t want anything even resembling a weapon on her person, just in case she decided that she liked him about as much as she liked Feralfolk. 

He looked over the crowd of villagers.  Typical of the Teeth, the child’s neighbors were a sullen and suspicious bunch, most of the children lacking shoes, along with a fair number of the adults.  Prosperity in the rest of the kingdom of Bryn never quite managed to make it up into the mountains.

 It doesn’t help that Lord Blackmine has barely set foot above a thousand feet of elevation since King Rischar made him Lord of the Teeth. 

It was hard for him to picture Edmun living in this sad place.  After all, the priest had been a royal bastard, one of old King Jerroh’s many illegitimate spawn.  He’d grown up serving at court, surrounded by wealth and education, rising by virtue of his genius to become headmaster of the Academy.  Then the war had come . . .

Silas knew that Edmun had been lucky he’d even kept his head, probably because no one had been brave enough to climb the Teeth to take it . . . But to think of him here, with only one student to occupy his brilliant mind, spending his final years literally out in the cold, leading peasants in worship and mediating disputes between shepherds . . . It was appalling.

Silas was curious about the girl who had earned his old mentor’s respect.  Elder and Babe above, they’d all been terrified of him in their school days.  During the war, Silas had thought the man might’ve been made of stone.  And yet, it seemed he had adored this girl, if his letters could be trusted.

Silas felt a twinge of pity.  Whether it was for Edmun or for the girl, he couldn’t say.

I do hope I won’t have to kill her.

***

Muttering curses, covering her humiliated tears with whispered words of rage, Shiloh's hand shook as she undid the hooks holding her jacket closed beneath her heavy cloak.  Cold weather came early to the Teeth, and she was accordingly dressed for a winter journey.  Beneath her quilted leather jacket was a sweater of wool, and beneath that a tunic of embroidered linen that fell to her knees.  They did not wear corsets in the Teeth; corsets were a vanity for the irreligious of the flatlands. 

Her skirt was calf-length, as was the mountain custom, the better to keep it out of the snow and mud.  She wore wool leggings beneath, attached to a garter, and knee-high boots.  Her boots were starting to look worn, but they were sturdy and whole and would make it through the winter. 

Everything she wore was dark in color: warm browns, deep greens, rich blues.  Only small children were permitted rowdy reds, yellows, and pastels.  No one dressed in purple, of course.  The only thing she wore that caught the light was the hook that served as her left hand.

A curl of pale pink hair fell in front of her eyes, and she tucked it impatiently back behind her ear.  Like all the women she knew, she covered her hair year-round when outside the home, most often with a hood, but sometimes with a scarf in warm weather.

The leather straps that held her prosthesis buckled beneath her sweater and over her linen, looped beneath the opposite arm, and crossed her upper back before moving down her half-formed left arm, which ended a few inches below the elbow.  Her father had taken great pride in crafting her false limbs as she’d grown, experimenting with different materials and different shapes of hooks, always seeking beauty and improvement.  She smiled through her tears, thinking of him.

Shiloh wiped her running nose and then pulled back on her sweater and jacket.  She folded the left sleeves and used her teeth to place a long pin to hold them neatly in place, so they wouldn't drag along, empty and forlorn.  She pulled her warm cloak back around her, as if its bulk could protect her from feeling small, and she walked back to the man who held her life in his hands.

She shoved her hook toward Hatch, looking determinedly past his left ear.  Her eyes were dry; her expression revealed nothing, but she could not hide the red nose that betrayed her earlier tears.

Hatch cleared his throat.  “I will take care with it,” he assured her.  “Do you have any other weapons?” he asked.

Shiloh bent down to pull a knife from her boot and handed it over.  A sling and a bag of round pebbles followed from her pocket.  Then came a set of knitting needles and a small roll of wool yarn.  Laughter rippled through the crowd.

“Is your terror of me now alleviated, Master?” she asked softly.  She heard chuckles behind her back.

“You ought to learn to mind your tongue,” one of the men retorted, “before I decide to tan your hide.  Maybe you ought to concentrate on praying that Master Hatch doesn’t lock you in the High Tower for the rest of your miserable life.”

“That is sufficient, Perce,” Hatch scolded the young man, his tone and eyes both ice cold.  He glanced at the now muttering villagers.  “Let's get moving.  Captain Pike, you may start setting up your garrison on the edge of town.  Brother Wilar, the village of Smoke Valley is now yours to govern.  Their loyalty to lord, crown, and the Holy Family is now your responsibility.  The king is counting on you both.”

The captain nodded smartly.  The priest squared his narrow shoulders and tried to look resolute.

“A garrison?  We'd be glad of some protection from the Feralfolk; Gods know we've lost souls to them enough, but our town is too poor to house and feed a whole garrison,” a village elder protested. 

 “Winter is on the way.  There's been a drought.  A few men, sure, but three dozen?  We’ll starve.”

Hatch shook his head almost sympathetically.  “The orders come from the Earl of Blackmine and from your king.  It is out of my hands.”  The villagers shuffled anxiously, eying the men and grabbing hold of their daughters.

“You may wish to buy some furs from them before we leave, sir,” Shiloh advised softly.  “It's going to snow tomorrow, and none of you look to be dressed for it.”

“Are ya daft, girlie?” one of the guards asked.  “It's barely autumn.”

Shiloh held Hatch’s eyes but said nothing more.  If he chose not to believe her, it was his funeral.

Hatch sighed.  “All right, Miss Teethborn, tell me with whom I must haggle.”

***

Hatch knelt to help Shiloh mount his horse.  She didn’t weigh more than a bundle of twigs.  At least she had decent shoes, and her skirt was loose enough to accommodate her riding astride.  Her father had been a smith with a reputation for skill and fair dealing, according to one of his sources.  She’d have been more financially comfortable than her neighbors, he supposed. 

He could feel her tension when he swung his leg over to settle behind her.  Frightened and brave.  To his surprise, she didn’t turn around once as they left her home behind them.  Perhaps she had already said her goodbyes.  Perhaps there was no one left to whom she would wish to say them.

Silas thought back to the day he’d left his own home behind, headed for the City.  He’d been thrilled to leave the monastery to make his fortune at court.  He’d felt some fear as well, of course, and some shame for his poverty.  But watching that dock fade into the distance had been one of the happiest moments of his life.

A drop of water fell onto one of Hatch’s leather gloves.  He looked up, searching for clouds in the clear blue sky, then realized that the splash had been a silent tear from his passenger.  He considered offering some words of comfort, but he decided that she might not welcome such an acknowledgment.  She didn’t strike him as the kind of girl who would wish to show weakness to a stranger.  Perhaps she hadn’t yet realized that tears could be a woman’s weapon.

She remained silent as they made their way.  Whether this was Edmun’s influence, her own turn of mind, or pain at her departure, Silas could not say.  He wondered how she would adapt to the girls at court, with their ceaseless chatter and ringing laughter. 

Of course, they may well not deign to speak to her.  If she is lucky, she’ll be novel enough to gain a little popularity, at least among the bastards and the lesser gentry.  The lords know courtiers are prone to boredom, having so little actual work to do. 

He did not imagine that the king’s new wife would be interested in having an Unclean maid in waiting, and one unskilled in the entertainments of court at that. 

We’ll have to find something for her to do when she isn’t at study.  Perhaps one of the tutors can use her help with something.  She is probably a diligent worker, given how demanding a master Edmun always was.  The library can always use some tending, or the Temple, or the gardens.  Assuming she is physically strong enough for such work.

Now, her health or lack thereof . . . that was a topic of great interest to Hatch.  As a student of dark magic, and a creature with a naturally morbid temperament, he had read a great deal about the effect a mother’s curses could have on an unborn child.  He’d had occasion, over the years, to examine a few such unfortunate children; unhappily, they had already died before he’d gotten his hands on them. 

The autopsies had proved less enlightening than he had hoped.  Two of them had been born dead, or so the mothers had plausibly claimed at trial.  The third had obviously been strangled in the family’s unsuccessful effort to hide his birth.  They’d hanged the mother at a crossroads, as he recalled.

He’d only met a live one once, during his years abroad, where they were not so fussy about such accidents.  The girl’s parents had been disinclined to allow him to examine the child in detail, alas.  All of the specimens had shared hair and eyes of bright colors along with significant anatomical abnormalities.  The live one had also possessed an accumulation of scars.

Hatch had pressed Edmun for details about Shiloh’s condition, to little avail.  The priest had admitted that the child had suffered from bouts of affliction from time to time, illnesses whose symptoms matched the results of certain hexes that had been popular during the war.  However, Edmun had offered little beyond the fact that the girl had come close to death on more than one occasion.   

She should present a fascinating case study, when the time comes. 

Assuming, of course, that no misfortune intervenes.

Available on Amazon in kindle or paperback.  If you enjoyed this excerpt, please also sign up for my newsletter for more sneak peeks and bonus material.

Sneak Peek: Book 2 of The Hexborn Chronicles

Spoiler alert: If you haven't finished Hexborn, avert your eyes!

I'm excited to report that I have recently finished the first draft of the Hexborn sequel!  Right now I'm working hard on revisions, but I couldn't wait to share a little bit with you.  Enjoy!

***

“Drink it down. I know it’s vile, but drink it all if you want to live.”

Shiloh cradled Hedsin’s head with her silk-clad forearm and held the cup to his cracked lips. The farmer looked up at her with skeptical eyes, but he did as she had bid him, a little of the disgusting concoction dripping onto Shiloh’s glove.

“Might’ve been kinder to slit my throat, my lady,” he coughed.

She smiled down at him indulgently, but grim lines framed her pink eyes. “Now, now. In a few days, when you’re bouncing that new grandson on your knee, you won’t feel the same, I’ll warrant.”

Shiloh straightened her back and squared her shoulders. “I must get on to the next afflicted house,” she told Hedsin’s wife, Deenah. “Make sure you and yours keep your charms pinned to your clothes at all times, lest this spread to the rest of you. At. All. Times.” She held the woman’s eyes with stern resolve.

“Yes, my lady,” Deenah replied, bobbing her head and wringing her hands. “Thank you, my lady.”

“You are most welcome.” Shiloh handed her three ribbons and pulled her away from her husband’s sickbed. She lowered her voice to continue, “Now, tie the black one on the door if he dies. The red one if someone else shows symptoms, so I can bring the medicine. The white when he recovers. That means no fever for twenty-four hours.”

Deenah nodded. “How many are sick in the village?” she asked anxiously.

Shiloh inhaled deeply. “Three dozen. Plus five in the monastery, and four in the castle. A dozen more in the barracks, maybe more. I hear it’s terrible in Gerne. That’s probably where it started. I had a letter from my lord husband to that effect.”

Deenah traced a circle on her forehead. “Gods preserve us,” she breathed.

“Indeed,” Shiloh agreed, tracing her own circle. “Gods preserve us.”



***



“Go back to your homes,” Shiloh ordered, her voice hoarse but resolute.

She stood on the back of a hay wagon, wand in hand, cold wind snapping her purple headscarf behind her with a loud crack. Northgate Castle stood behind her, dark and lurking against the pink of dawn. Several dozen frightened villagers stood before her, attempting to flee the plague that had swept in from the north.

“We’re not going to stay here to die, my lady!” one of the men yelled. Shiloh could hear some of them saying, “Abomination!” under their breath.

“Do as I tell you, and you won’t,” Shiloh spat back. “Wear the protective charms I gave you. Boil your water. Cook all your food through. Stay inside. Mark your door if any of your folk take ill, and I will send medicine. If you leave this place and grow ill, there will be no help for you. You will die in the woods, alongside the road, in the cold. No other village will let you through their walls. They know you’ve been exposed to the Red Fever. They know, because I sent word to every settlement within a hundred and fifty miles.”

Some in the mob began to look at each other, uncertain in the face of their lady’s opposition.

“I know you’re afraid,” Shiloh said more gently. “But I assure you the gifted sisters at the monastery and I are doing all we can to protect you. And I cannot allow you to spread this pestilence south and east. I will not. The safety of this kingdom depends on stopping the fever here.”

Her wand began to glow, and the crowd, as one, took a wary step backward.

“I survived the Red Fever as a child, a crippled and sickly child at that. If I could, so can you. Go home, for the Gods’ sakes. You’ll be safer there. I promise.”

“And if we don’t?” someone called belligerently.

“Then make yourselves comfortable here in the dirt, because you are going nowhere.” Shiloh raised her wand and hummed, and a shimmering dome filled the sky, encasing the castle and its surrounding village, forming a glowing barrier that began a few dozen yards from where they stood. A fearful murmur rustled like dead leaves. Some of the children whimpered, which nearly broke Shiloh’s heart.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” she warned them, sheathing her wand. “Not if you’re fond of your hands. Now, I have more than enough work to do, between saving your neighbors and chasing off Gernish raiders. Don’t bother me with this foolishness again, and thank the Gods I’m a patient girl. If my husband were here, make no mistake, he’d have killed at least one of you for an example. Go home.”

She jumped down from the cart and strode through the crowd, head high and heart pounding. To her immense relief, they opened to make her a path. Most of them even bowed a respectful head.

“Would that really take off a hand?” Brother Charls whispered in her ear as he fell in beside her for the walk back to the castle.

Shiloh snorted. “Of course not. I’m powerful, but not powerful enough to keep up something like that without paying attention to it. Besides, one of the children might stumble into it. It’s just a light show.”

Charls swallowed a laugh. “What if they test it?”

“They won’t,” Shiloh asserted with far more confidence than she felt. “They won’t.”

They didn’t.

Hexborn Playlist: Music to Read By

Hexborn is out today!  To celebrate, and to enhance your reading experience, I'm sharing with you some music to read by.

I love all kinds of music.  I'm a singer, and while I'm in the process of writing and editing a book, I often run across songs that touch me and speak to a particular aspect of the story I'm in the midst of creating.  Gradually, I accumulate a list of songs that go along with the novel in some way.

This time, the list was also influenced by the sudden death of my father last fall.  Since he died, I've been listening to a lot of blues and bluegrass, two genres he exposed me to as a child.  You'll see that this Hexborn list is heavily composed of bluegrass and alternative country with a few Blues songs and a couple of more pop tunes.  The bluegrass emphasis is appropriate to the story, since Shiloh, my main character, comes from a small mountain community.

I'll highlight just a few songs for you here.

I chose "Grinnin' in Your Face" by Son House because I adore Son House and because Shiloh, my main character, is the victim of a lot of insults and gossip.  She is bullied because she was born with a medical condition that renders her unclean in the eyes of her neighbors.  She does her best not to allow it to get to her, as advised by Son House in this tune, and she is comforted by the steadfast support of a few treasured loved ones.

"The Water" always makes me cry these days.  To me, it is a song about death and dying.  Shiloh is mourning both her father and her mentor when the book begins, and as I am mourning my own dad, it really speaks to me.

"Love is All" always brings to my mind the character of Silas Hatch, aka "the Hatchet."  He's a man who has hardened his heart in order to be able to fulfill what he sees as his duty, but there is enough of that heart left to contain some very strong loyalties and sentimental ties.

You can listen to the whole playlist on Spotify, but if you don't have Spotify, here is a list of songs and artists:

• "Jolene" by Rhoda Vincent
• "Dance Upon Your Grave" by The Brothers Comatose
• "Troubles" by Anne and Elizabeth
• "Heaven's Gate" by Dawn Landes & Piers Faccini
• "Twitch and Tug" by Hugo
• "Once Was Lost" by Old Bear Mountain
• "Sing to the Mountain" by Elephant Revival
• "Make Me a Pallet on Your Floor" by Mississippi John Hurt
• "Blue Ridge Mountain" by Hurray for the Riff Raff
• "The Body Electric" by Hooray for the Ridd Raff
• "Love is All" by The Tallest Man on Earth
• "The Captain and the Hourglass" by Laura Marling
• "Wrong Black Mare" by Brown Bird
• "Little Sadie" by Doc Watson
• "From Finner" by Of Monsters and Men
• "Hit 'Em Up Style" by Carolina Chocolate Drops
• "The Water" by Johnny Flynn & Laura Marling
• "Spirits" by The Strumbellas
• "The River Song" by Old Bear Mountain
• "Grinnin' in Your Face" by Son House
• "Tusk" by Fleetwood Mac
• "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes
• "Can't Catch Me" by Avicii

I hope you enjoy listening as you read!  Grab your copy today, in either ebook or paperback.

Review-o-rama

Since Hexborn releases tomorrow (!), I thought I'd do a round-up of some of the early reviews.  I hope their reactions make you excited to get your hands on this story.  Happy reading!

Five-Star Review for Hexborn from Readers' Favorite

I'm thrilled to share this early, 5-star review for Hexborn, courtesy of Carol Beth Anderson from Readers' Favorite.

Hexborn: The Hexborn Chronicles Book 1 by A.M. Manay tells the riveting story of Shiloh Teethborn, a sixteen-year-old orphan. Shiloh is hexborn, accustomed to being an outcast due to the physical evidence of curses she received before birth. But not everyone rejects Shiloh. She has magical abilities, and the chief minister of the kingdom, Silas Hatch, thinks she will be of value to the king. Silas takes Shiloh from her small-town life and brings her to the capital to live in the palace, attend classes in magic, and serve the royal family. It doesn’t take long for Shiloh to attract attention, thanks to her considerable power. She must quickly learn to navigate the rocky paths of politics, relationships, and society. At every step, Silas is there to help her—but can she trust the man known as “the king’s hatchet”?

It’s been some time since I’ve found myself so intrigued by a new fantasy realm. The magical setting of Hexborn is drawn with vivid color and depth, and it’s populated by nuanced, fascinating characters. Shiloh’s vulnerability and strength join to make her immensely likeable, a character worth rooting for. Beneath the stories of intrigue and relationships, Hexborn presents deeper messages about prejudice, both societal and personal. I’m already eagerly anticipating the release of the second book of the series. When I’m lucky enough to discover an independent author with such storytelling prowess, I get a thrill out of it. This was one of those times. Discovering A.M. Manay’s writing was a delight, and I’m looking forward to reading her other novels. Go ahead and grab that pre-order if you haven't already.  Hexborn is going places!

A new adventure: Kindle Scout

I'm excited to tell you that my novel Hexborn is up for nominations on Kindle Scout!  What is Kindle Scout?  Basically, it is a process that Amazon's in-house publishing imprint uses to choose what books to publish.  (Don't confuse this with Kindle Direct Publishing, which is what we use to self-publish e-books.)  Their decision-making process is a little mysterious, but their editors assess writing quality and marketability along with the amount of support an author is able to drum up in nominations.  You can click here for more details about the program straight from Kindle Scout.

How do you nominate?   It's easy.  You can click my link and see my blurb, a sample of the book, and some additional information about me and my writing process.  Then you click "Nominate."  The site will prompt you to enter your normal Amazon login and password.

You can only nominate three books at a time.  When one campaign you've chosen to support ends, it frees up one of your slots. 

Once my 30-day campaign is complete and Amazon makes its decision, you'll get an email informing you whether Hexborn was chosen or not.  If it is chosen, Amazon will provide me with some editorial and marketing support much like other publishers, and everyone who nominates it will receive a free copy two weeks before the official publication date.  How cool is that?  If it isn't chosen, I'll launch it myself and let you know how you can get a copy.

Why am I taking a shot at Kindle Scout?  It is very hard for an indie author to gain traction in the current market.  I think Hexborn is a terrific book, and I don't want it to fall into a black hole when it is released.  I feel that Scout is an exciting opportunity for me to break through and gain some visibility.  I hope you'll support me in this new adventure by nominating Hexborn and sharing my campaign with your friends who enjoy reading.  Thank you so much, and happy scouting!

Huge Sci-f- and Fantasy $0.99 Promotion

Hello, darlings. I just wanted to let you know that I'm participating in a Sci-fi and Fantasy promotion featuring tons of books on sale for only $0.99 July 1st and 2nd. My contribution is She Dies at the End, so if you have friends you've been meaning to turn into November Snow fans, spread the word. Have fun stocking up on your airplane/beach/staycation reading.

 

Fantasy / Science Fiction Instafreebie Group Giveaway

Today marks the start of an epic fantasy and science fiction book giveaway that I've organized.  We have most of the popular sub-genres: paranormal, high fantasy, steampunk, hard sci-fi, sci-fi romance, space opera, etc.  So, if you're looking for summer reading, you should stop by my webpage and check it out.  Happy reading!

Book Review: Manifesting Destiny by M. Pepper Langlinais

I was very excited to try something by talented multi-genre author M. Pepper Langlinais. As a lover of fantasy, I thought I'd start with her magical young adult tale Manifesting Destiny. I cannot tell you enough about how much I enjoyed it!

This YA fantasy is engaging, touching, and exciting.  In a world where most people undergo a startling metamorphosis upon reaching maturity, Cee and Marcus face the prospect of their close friendship being forever severed when they realize that they are transforming into members of enemy clans.  Accompanied by two friends, they venture into the wilderness seeking help only to find ever increasing danger.  They face the prospect of losing their very selves and find that their world and its inhabitants don't match what they've been taught to believe.

The writing is clean, modern, and vivid without being fussy or overwrought.  The characters are all realistically drawn, their flaws and strengths combining to render each sympathetic in her or his own way.  The world building is skillfully executed, communicating both the wonder of magical talents and the quotidian oppression of a dystopian society that the characters have grown up to accept. The plot is interestingly woven, and I impatiently await the sequel.

Check out the blurb below:

Sixteen-year-old Cee has a hopeless crush on her best friend Marcus. Unfortunately for her, he’s gay. In the wake of Marcus’s older brother leaving home to join the Aerie, Marcus has become increasingly distant. When Cee discovers she has a troublesome dragon named Livian living inside her things grow even more complicated.

Marcus urges Cee to go to the Magi to have Livian removed, but the more Cee becomes attached to Livian, the more she questions the decision. Should she change her natural self for the crush who will never love her anyway?

Paranormal Profile: Rosemary Johns

One of the pleasures of being a writer is getting to know other writers.  There's a of of activity in the world of supernatural and paranormal fiction, and one of the authors making a splash is Rosemary Johns.  Blood Dragons and Blood Shackles are the first two books in her Rebel Vampire series.  The third installment, Blood Renegades, is due out in June, 2017.

This popular and well-reviewed series follows a vampire named Light.  His world is turned upside down when vampires become prey, enslaved by human beings.  He must battle for both his people and his heart, naturally.  Sounds awesome, right?


Underground Book Reviews had this to say:

5* Highly recommended: For anyone who is just looking for something a bit different, a bit edgy, something that will amuse you, frighten you and take you on one hell of a journey into love, death, humanity, and monsters.


Here is a peek at the blurb for Book 1:

Escape into a supernatural world of love, revenge and redemption.

There are three people in this affair...and two of them aren’t human.

In a divided paranormal London, Light is the rebel bad boy vampire of the Blood Lifer world, with a photographic memory. And a Triton motorbike. Since Victorian times he’s hidden in the shadows with Ruby - a savage Elizabethan Blood Lifer. She burns with destructive love for Light. But he’s keeping a secret from her, which breaks every rule in Blood Life. When she discovers the truth, things take a terrifying turn.

1960s London. Kathy is a seductive singer. But she’s also human. Light knows his passion for her is reckless but he’s enchanted. Yet such a romance is forbidden. When the two worlds collide, it could mean the end. For both species.

When Light discovers his ruthless family’s horrifying experiments, he questions whether he should be slaying or saving the humans he’s always feared. What dark revelations will Light reveal at the heart of the experiments? Will he be able to stop them in time? The consequences of failure are unimaginable. Unless Light plays the part of hero, he risks losing everything. Including the two women he loves.

A rebel, a red-haired devil and a Moon Girl battle to save the world – or tear it apart.


Johns has quite an interesting background. This British author has studied history at Oxford University, run a theater company, and worked with disability charities.

Learn more about Johns and her series on her website, or follow her on social media:

https://www.facebook.com/RosemaryAnnJohns
https://twitter.com/rosemaryajohns
https://www.amazon.com/Rosemary-A-Johns/e/B01JOJVTNE

Book Review: The One Discovered by Yvette Calleiro

This YA fantasy novel follows the awakening of high school senior Sofia, who discovers that she is not the normal teenage human she always thought she was.  Half-brothers Angel and Ar’ch turn up in her small town, and all heck breaks loose.  They are on a mission to bring Sofia and her mother home, so that Sofia can save their people, the Diasodz. Naturally, some evil forces have a real problem with that plan.

I found Sofia to be a relatable, true-to-life, and interesting protagonist. I thought her relationship with her mother was touching and realistic. I appreciated the sensitivity that the issues of adoption, egg donation, and surrogacy were explored, specifically with how the author highlighted Angel's healthy, honest upbringing as compared to the unhealthy secret-keeping in Sofia's family.

Overall, the story is well-written and the characters sympathetic.  The pacing is good, and the ending sets you up to want to read the next installment.  The descriptions are effective, and the author reveals just enough information about the Diasodz to pique your curiosity, much like Ar’ch arouses Sofia’s own curiosity.  I will definitely be reading the sequels.

Book Review: Charms and Witches by Herb Mallette

Charms and Witches lives up to its title. It's truly one of the most charming books I've read in some time.

In a land where magic is real but somewhat rare, Cirie is a young charm maker eking out a living, struggling to pay down a debt incurred during her late master’s terminal illness. Though the grief and debt are a lot to carry, she manages to do so without bowing under the weight. Her somewhat monotonous existence becomes a lot more interesting when a traveling stranger named Lanton appears at the inn where Cirie lives and works. Immediately taken with one another, affection blooms over a board game and deepens over the revelations of Lanton’s secret mission. When the witch queen finds out what he is up to, it will take a remarkable love and determination to produce a happy ending. It is something of a romance within a romance, bright and diverting.

The author has created a fun and detailed world without resorting to dumps of exposition. The magic is described in a lovely yet unpretentious fashion. He has deftly drawn a cast of characters with whom you can't help wishing to spend more time, and for whom you can't help wishing for happiness. Even the money lender seems like an okay guy. Though the world is fantastical in its way, the characters behave like real people. There are no contrived conflicts between the romantic leads, which was a relief to me, as I am no fan of comedies of errors. It's also a bit of an achievement in this day and age to create an engrossing book containing no explicit sex or gory violence.

I loved this book, and I cannot recommended this author highly enough.

New Adult Novels and How I Wrote One By Accident

Okay, true confessions time: I kind of wrote a “new adult” novel by accident and realized it after the fact. An emerging genre, new adult novels typically feature a protagonist between the ages of 18 and 25. Often they are going off to college or starting their career. The main character is dealing with many of the coming of age issues common in young adult literature but in a more adult fashion. The facing of first loves, insecurities, new friends, and new challenges might be similar, but with fewer of the constraints of a high school student's life. Some people consider new adult to be young adult lit with more sex and language, which is, I think, a bit of an oversimplification.

So, how did I wind up with a new adult novel?

I was writing a novel with vampires, so I wanted my female protagonist to be at least 18. Why? For one thing, a centuries old dude hitting on 16 year old girl is gross; I don't care if he's a virgin (cough, Edward Cullen, cough). The girl being eighteen isn't a whole lot better, but that is where we draw the line of adulthood at the moment. So, yeah, I'm anti-statutory rape. I guess that makes me "Team Jacob."

I also think eighteen is an interesting age. You are technically free from parental control but you haven't really learned how to be an adult. You have the promise of new adventure and independence, with a healthy side of fear and crippling inexperience. And I think inside of everyone there is a part of us that is always 18. When we start doing something truly new to us (like, maybe, writing our first novel . . .), we recapture a bit of that feeling of exhilarated uncertainty. I think that is part of why we all enjoy coming of age stories so much.

A lot of our favorite pieces of pop culture could easily fall into this "new adult" category. Star Wars is largely about Luke's journey to adulthood and Jedihood. I guess Degobah isn't exactly college, but close enough. The Star Trek reboot features officers just out of school. Agents of Shield focuses on Skye/Daisy, a girl in her early twenties trying to figure out who she is and what she is meant to do with her life and her emerging power. How to Get away with Murder is peopled by a bunch of law school students. And that is just off the top of my head.

Of course, works of fiction tend to fall into several categories at once. She Dies at the End is also a paranormal fantasy and a vampire story, occasionally even romantic. But, overall, it's about November coming to terms with her gifts and her own agency in her life, which is something we all go through, even without vampires and fairies and werewolves along for the ride.

This time in our lives, the period of early adulthood, obviously retains an emotional pull. I guess its gravity pulled me in, and a new adult novel is where I wound up. Now I’ll just pretend I did it on purpose. Shh! Don’t tell anybody.