Summary:A reluctant prince determined to be a better man than his father, the king, has ever been, Jeodyn spent his last year alone in the wild studying the banned art of manipulating the Myst, an act of rebellion but more in remembrance of the old ways. Now, everything he learned and everything he’s ever known about himself will be tested, when he’s called to do what his father should but never will: defend their family.
Noirlok, Lord of the ShadowLands and Father of the Night’s rebellion, knows no man will stand between him and his revenge. He'll either have the love he defeated the heavens and waited an age of the world to reclaim, or he'll destroy the House responsible. Since overcoming a mortal death and taking charge of the dark legion known as Shadorym, he has vowed to see the Blood of Vallyn pay for taking that love, and his life, from him.
When Jeodyn's sister, Jynn, disappears, the fight to defend what they all have at stake begins.
Buy A Prince from the Shadows on Lulu.
Guest Post:
My Story,
in its Infancy…
The story
of Erthlynd and the bloodline of Vallyn began in 2004. I’d just
finished (almost finished) my first “novel,” the
Lord of the Rings had blown
up the theatres and won an Oscar, and I knew I wanted to write
something bigger (bigger than my first book, not LOTR, though I
firmly believe a little ambition goes a long way). I knew I had a
story to tell; I just didn’t know what that story was.
At the
time, I wasn’t a writer, I was a musician/a poet/an artist; I was
anything but a writer. In fact, the thought of writing more than a
full page scared the bejebus out of me. I had a friend who was a
writer. He always had so many good words, and he always knew what to
do with them. He
was the writer; I played guitar and drew nice pictures.
Then the
time came, when I finally decided, whatever it was, I had a story to
tell. And when it did, I kept going back to the one thing my friend
had told me: write what you know. He was always trying to write and
trying to find his story, and that was the only piece of direction he
let guide him. Write what you know.
He ended
up writing about the Civil War; apparently, growing up in
Fredericksburg, VA and reading all about the Gods and Monsters who
once walked the same hills we grew up on significantly improves the
well of knowledge one knows about that particular subject. But I grew
up in Caroline County, VA, and not much historic happened there.
Needless
to say, I had a hard time getting over the fact that when it came to
“write what I know,” it turned out, I didn’t know anything.
But I
stayed with it. I thought about what I did
know, and eventually the story came to me.
What I
knew, more than anything I’ve ever known, was the life I was living
at the time. I was young and on my own (living alone pretty much for
the first time). I hung out with my friends every day, partied every
night, and every day I went to work, I envisioned ways of conquering
The Man and breaking the changes keeping me bound to his cubicle/PC
of life-draining torture.
Every day,
I’d fight, and he’d win. And every day, I’d get up to fight
again.
It felt
like The Man was trying to steal my fire, and knowing how desperate
it must be to lose one’s fire, I fought with all I had to keep it
burning. I knew that desperation and the exhaustion of fighting it
every day. I knew without my friends there to help, I’d have
succumbed to it all a long time ago and conceded to climbing the
corporate ladder. And I knew that such a surrender would be the end
of ME as I had envisioned it.
Giving up
that fire inside me to The Man who wanted it would equal death. I
knew that more than anything else at the time.
Then I saw
my story. I found it, based in the very spark of life and the endless
fight to control it.
Then the
landscape of the world surrounding that spark took shape. It
eventually took the name Erthlynd, and the more time I spent there,
the more I saw the story living in it. Of course, that cold, dark
evil was always lurking out there, always getting closer. But my
friends were with me. When Erthlynd came about, Jeodyn was already
there, and when I found him, he had Leye and Raab with him. They were
all three different characters, and all three fighting for the same
thing in their own way. Their commitment to that fight made them
closer than family, and I knew the three of them could lead my charge
against that ancient evil gathering beyond the Eastern Fall.
Now,
putting this all in context to A
Prince from the Shadows… my
story was originally about this outside force invading Erthlynd to
steal the spark of life within it (The Man trying to control me and
steal my fire), and it still is about that. But there were some other
twists and turns along the way. One of which was me learning what a
novel is and how to write one.
When I
first set down to write, I’d spent about six months outlining my
world and my characters, their backstory, the history of Erthlynd,
and the present drama unfolding. Not knowing the natural arc of a
novel, I sat down and wrote the entire story of Erthlynd, from the
“coming apart of all things” and its re-creation to the very end
of the original drama I set for Jeodyn from the beginning. I’ve
since learned the difference between a novel and a story, but I still
look back with pride at that original, 700pg, SINGLE-SPACED monster
(it was 5inches thick, and I still have it. Ha!).
The two
major parts of that manuscript are the history of Erthlynd leading up
to Jeodyn and what has now become the trilogy of his Rise
to the Helm (Bk1 in the
trilogy is the next book in the series, set for release in the
not-so-distant future). But there was another part, (about 175 of
those 700 single-spaced pages) which told the start of Jeodyn’s
trek out into the distant East, the unknown he’d dreamt of seeing
all his life.
This story
was about Jeodyn’s sister, Jynn. It was originally meant as a
set-up for the primary drama in the main narrative, but it grew into
a story all its own. At the encouragement of my book doctor, I
“fleshed out” the story of Jeodyn’s sister, Jynn, and her
mysterious lover. Part of me wanted to scrap it altogether (my story
was about “supposed” to be the Rise to the Helm trilogy). But one
thing I’ve learned along the way is that the story is the story, no
matter what we have to say about it. It’s there already, and we
have to immerse ourselves in it as deeply as we possibly can to see
that and let it be.
Spending
time in Erthlynd (those long, quiet minutes before you fall asleep
are great for hanging out in fantastical places), I came to realize
Jynn’s story was part of Jeodyn’s story. It as a part of his
life, so of course, it was a part of his story. He (Jeodyn) kept
telling me: “I see this other stuff going on, and I want to get
into it, but I have to deal with my sister first.” I literally got
that feeling from him, every time I tried to work on anything other
than resolving Jynn’s predicament. By the end, he wouldn’t stop
going on and on about it.
Eventually,
I listened and here we are. A
Prince from the Shadows is
done, as it should be. All my characters are accounted for. Their
tales are told. And because of that, they are all ready to venture
into this next part of the story together, ready to see it to the
end. As am I.
Without
every one of its characters completely committed and along for the
ride, no story can exist, at least not in the truest sense it was
meant to be. I’ve learned that too on this long, strange trip. As
writers, we spend so much time searching our characters, asking them
who they are and trying to get to know them. We give our characters
voices to speak for that very reason; we owe it to them and the
stories they have to tell, to at least listen to them.
Especially
when they won’t shut up about something… that’s when we should
listen the most.
Giveaway:
Hope the book is as good of a read as the blog says, that's quite a build up.
ReplyDeleteI hope you enjoy the book if you do read it.
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