The world of the Iliri

Salryc's SearchEvery so often, an author stumbles into a world that is so real in their minds that they can almost smell the dust on the breeze.  For me, that is Ogun, the planet where the iliri reside.  Yes, in my head it has a name.  No, I don’t use that name in the books for a very long time because it’s not important to the stories.

Now, if you do a small amount of searching (which I’ll spare you) then you’ll see that Ogun is an African deity of war and iron.  On a world where metal is hard to come by and rarely is found in ore form, I thought it was apropos.  And many of my careful readers will notice that most humans are described in shades that are typically dark… I dunno, think there might be a link?

I’ve always seen the landscape as being rolling with extreme outcroppings of mountains.  The climate should be temperate (think Northern USA/England) due to the size of the continent.  The two moons in the sky that orbit in tandem would make ocean travel nearly impossible.  Just imagine the severity of the tides!  In my mind, the sky is so blue that it’s blinding.  The planet is simply gorgeous, filled with flowers, vibrant trees, and all of the beauty of a spring countryside.  It’s the type of place that fairies should play and myths should live.

fantasy-landscape-scenery-4Yet, there’s war.  It seems when humanity is involved and resources are scarce, there’s always war.  The stronger tend to take what they need from those weaker than them.  It’s a part of humanity’s animalistic instincts that we can’t seem to leave behind.  Isn’t it ironic then, that the iliri are the ones called animals?  They growl.  They bite.  They live in packs, yet their civilization hunts rather than makes war.

Then there are the towns.  Without metal, so many things are impossible.  Electricity, as an example.  How do you transport it without a conductive wire?  What about pumping water?  That requires either gravity or electricity to move in any kind of decent amount (or a lot of mechanical power).  Cisterns on roofs?  But wait!  Without metals, building a structure capable of handling that much water would be cumbersome and clunky.  It would encourage the population to embrace massive structures for the strength to have their luxuries.  Over thousands of years, wouldn’t a world like this revert to outdated traditions that seem nearly medieval to us?  And yet the technology wouldn’t necessarily be lost.

I find that dichotomy of civilization to be fascinating.  I can spend hours thinking about how a street should be built.  Debating the cultural changes due to differences in governmental types is one of my favorite past times.  I mean, would living in a judiciary have a more passive population than those in a true democracy?  What about a parliamentary republic?

I’m six, nearly seven books into this series, and I feel as if I could call this world home.  I’m in love with it.  I hope my readers can see the wonders buried in the mundane workings of the cities and countries that the Black Blades travel through.  I also can’t wait to reveal many of the other secrets lurking beneath the surface.  History does have a way of being discovered, and I think a far flung world would be no different.




The Villain’s Story

skull-657477I’m going to tell you all a secret.  The iliri may not be the good guys.  Oh, sure, they are the protagonists of my latest series, but does that make them good?  Not really.

You see, Salryc Luxx was actually designed around Sauron from the Lord of the Rings.  You know, that mysteriously evil character who is charismatic and people just keep falling in with.  If you pay attention, there’s plenty of hints along the way, but I wanted to see if it was even possible to write the bad guy’s story in such a way that the reader wanted to cheer him (or her) on.

Why?  Simply because I think that good and evil are matters of perspective.  I don’t think that any SANE person (keyword there: sane) would do unthinkable acts just because.  I think they always have a justifiable reason.  I think that there are always two points of view, and sometimes the more interesting isn’t the “good” one.

I’m currently in the middle of writing book 7 of the iliri series.  To date, I think we’ve touched on every single taboo in existence.  No, the story doesn’t focus on them, but they just kinda came up.  You see, the iliri aren’t human, so I can’t help but wonder if they should be held to the same standards.

And then there’s Sal.  She’s the stereotypical femme fatale.  People are won over by her charm even though they’re intimidated by her.  She’s dangerous yet seductive.  Her followers gain power through their relation with her.  Wait… doesn’t that sound like some kind of secret weapon?  Some demi-god?  Well, that’s kinda what I thought.  Evidently Sal agrees.

But this begs the question: Is she really the villain?  I think she is.  I think she’s going to unleash things on that world that humanity can’t even comprehend… and I hope we all cheer her on.

Get BloodLust on Amazon, or pre-order Instinctual


The Series Continues

Salryc Instinctual3The enemy wants to kill them.  Their own country wants to make sure they never rise above slaves.  Humans created them to be the perfect soldiers, but iliri will never be equals.  They’re animals, vicious enough to be the perfect killers, but unable to be trusted.

So why are the Black Blades the unit chosen to stop the Emperor’s bribe of steel on its way to Anglia?  One of the rareest materials on the planet, metal could change the tide of the war.  It cuts better, stays sharper, and is stronger than the resin armor soldiers wear.  In the hands of the largest army on the continent, it would give Anglia an unparalleled advantage.  Their government might be antiquated and their military is archaic, but not even the Conglomerate can stand against the number of bodies Anglia can throw at a war.

If a few thousand kilos of steel reach the Anglian king, Terric will rule the Conglomerate.  The iliri will be exterminated.  Sal’s head will be preserved and hung on a wall somewhere as an example of human superiority.  But the only way to stop this threat is to trust the very people who made it happen.  Without humans, the Black Blades will lose everything.

While Sal struggles to learn everything she missed being raised as a human’s pet, the Black Blades try to protect their secret weapon.  The elite units are gathering in the base, but in  the slums of the capital city, iliri mongrels are starting to smell hope.

Preorder Instinctual (Rise of the Iliri #2) on Kindle.  


Salryc Genesis 3aIt’s a trope we see all the time.  The cute, vulnerable girl runs into a strong, well-positioned man and is instantly in love with him.  There’s no sensical reason for the relationship.  The reader doesn’t get the joy of watching the tension turn into emotion.  Nope.  Instead, it’s just “told” that they are perfect together, and we, the readers, are expected to believe it.

Some of my astute readers may look at the picture to the left, think of a newly released fantasy book they recently read and be thinking, “Hey, wait….”

So yes.  It’s true.  Power is appealing.  Stability has its own alure.  When we are young and foolish, we often convince ourselves that feelings are “love” when it’s just curiosity or boredom.  We tell ourselves it’s love because we’re too afraid of what might happen if it isn’t.  These are the kind of mistakes I made when I was 16, infatuated with the star quarterback, or the hot teacher, or any other guy who happened to be in a position to make me daydream of a “comfortable life”.  It’s what society taught me I should aspire to.

It wasn’t love.

Sal, like so many young girls, may be good at some things, but her experience with love is basically nothing.  Her past is dark and horrible – she was a slave, after all.  All she knows about how to interact with others is to please them or get beaten.  Is it any shock that she falls for the first man to show an interest in her?  Would you be shocked to learn that a natural born killer might not understand that sometimes men lie to protect their own pride?

When you’re in love, it’s so easy to list the reasons, even if they’re stupid.  Men who love you don’t tell you to change into something you aren’t.  Love never results in abuse!  Love has nothing to do with status or hierarchy of power.  Anything else is just a toxic relationship – but those are so easy to see from the outside.  The same is not true for the person stuck on the inside.

One of the things I loved most about writing BloodLust was showing just how wrong a “perfect” relationship could be.  They fell in “love” too fast, believed it was perfect, and the problems were so obvious you wanted to strangle one – or both – of them!  No matter how atrocious the relationship became, societal vulnerabilities convinced everyone that this was “right” and “meant to be”.  Now, the real question is: can things work out in the end? Should they?

Well, let me assure you, the end is not near.  Sometimes people lie.  Sometimes people figure out they were wrong.  Sometimes people figure out they were right. But, without spoiling anything for my readers, I just have to say that it was interesting to be drug along in a story where the insta-love was just as wrong as we’d all expect, but the lovers were too foolish to see it.


The “joy” of reading things written long ago

Salryc in Bolero with ivyThe Rise of the Iliri series was written quite a while ago.  2013, to be exact.  Books 1 – 5 took three months to fly off my fingers.  When book 5 hit 250,000 words, I had to pause.  Anything over 100,000 words is a pretty thick book, and it was well beyond that point.  In other words, I had to rethink my entire plot, break up the book into two, and somehow make the story have an ending.  (I absolutely hate cliffhanger endings).

And so I moved on, learned some things, and wrote some other books.  Today, I’m in the process of re-reading book 3 of that series (while book 2 is spending time with the editor).  WHAT THE HELL WAS I WRITING?

Seriously.  This crap is bad bad bad bad.  I can’t even wrap my mind around what I was thinking!  She walked outside.  She looked up.  She found a horse.  NOPE!  This most certainly will not do!

*ahem*  So, I have begun some intense editing.  Entire chapters are being rewritten.  My delete key is getting some serious workouts.  Hopefully, my editor will take her same massive and evil red pen to it that she does with the rest of my work, and get rid of the parts that should embarrass me.  I want to make sure those novice lines never see the light of day.

When I started writing, I thought I was good at it.  I mean, I had some natural talent for storytelling, but not so much for writing it down the way it should be.  Thankfully, I was smart enough to research, and not just press that publish button.  I read.  I learned.  I am still striving to perfect my craft, and recognizing that making errors doesn’t make me a bad person is the first part of that.  Some things my editor sends back are shameful  (There should never be a comma before the verb.  What was I THINKING???) but it has no bearing on me as a person.  It doesn’t mean I failed.  In fact, being able to take the correction with grace is a lot more impressive to most people.

I know all of this.  So why am I reading this early book and wishing that I could hide it away, start over, and pretend like I didn’t write this?  Big girl panties, Auryn.  It’s time to put them on and make this a work of art.  Gonna take a lot of elbow grease.

All she wanted was control of her own life

BloodLust cover1a

Salryc Luxx is iliri.  Humans say her species are little more than animals, bred to serve and protect.  She wants to prove them wrong.  Unfortunately, for an iliri, that’s not an option.  She can live as a slave or die as a military conscript.  The closest to freedom she can get are the dangerous missions of the elite units – but her kind aren’t considered good enough for that.  It doesn’t mean Sal won’t try.  Even a “scrubber” has the right to apply; they just don’t have to accept her.  But people notice elites, and this could be her chance to prove that iliri aren’t worse than humans.  Oh no.  She’s faster, smarter, and a much better killer than they could ever imagine.

She was bred to be, after all.


Sneak Peek at BloodLust: Rise of the Iliri

BloodLust teaserChapter 1

Weaving through the large, darkskinned bodies of the soldiers around her, Sal touched the paper in her pocket like a talisman. It gave her the chance to apply to the Black Blades. They were the best of the best, but the last people she thought would take her seriously. At least they’d given her a chance. Now, she just had to prove that an iliri could be as good as any human. Easier said than done.

Distracted by her thoughts, she didn’t see the blue-clad shoulder until it slammed into her, pushing her against a man on her other side. Her head snapped up, craning to see the soldier’s face, and a growl almost slipped out. The human’s dark eyes glared into her white ones. The scent of his fear was pungent.

“Out of the way, scrubber!” he snapped.

Sal quickly dropped her head, hoping her blue military issue cap would hide her pallid skin, and tried to keep her lips over her sharp teeth. “Sorry, sir.”

He grumbled something and kept going. Hiking her pack higher up her shoulder, she did the same, but in the other direction. Humans would never like her. They said iliri were inferior, too aggressive to be trusted. They said her kind were little more than animals yet used iliri for everything they didn’t want to do. At least life in the military gave her optionslike becoming an elite soldier.

If she could do this, the humans would be saluting her, not shoving her. It was the only way her kind got freedom. For years, she’d been planning for this chance. Now she just had to make sure they took her seriously. She had to be perfect. She needed to prove that being iliri didn’t make her worthless.

Beside the main gate, men in black clustered against the wall. Unlike the blue and gold of the common military, their dark uniforms set them apart. That was her destinationnot only where they stood, but what they were. The Black Blades were hard and determined, the kind of soldier no one pushed around. To be feared like that was as close to freedom as an iliri could get. Sal lifted her chin and touched the paper, terrified they’d turn her away.

One of them saw her. A lean, lithe man broke from the group, heading in her direction. A glance at his shoulder showed he was an officer, but before she could salute, his hand snapped out, demanding her orders. She passed him the admittance slip, shocked to see how the stark uniform made his skin look almost as pale as hers. The corner of his lip twitched back as his dark blue eyes hit her without blinking.

“Private Salryc Luxx?” His voice was a growl, accented in a way that pleased her ears.

“Yes, sir.”

“Ya will be number nine, please place yer belongings there -” He gestured to a row of numbers drawn on the ground. “- an’ be at ease. The Lieutenant will be here shortly ta give ya orders.”

He smelled so different from most men. There was no fear. Instead, the scent was deep and herbal, natural instead of sweet. She resisted the urge to lean closer when he handed back her papers, but when he bent his fingers to avoid contact, a flare of resentment hit. When she looked back up, his eyes were still waiting.

“Pure iliri?” he asked, his gaze too intense.

She stared back. “Yes, sir.”

They stood like that for a moment before he looked down to her collar bones. “Females are rare,” he said softly.

“Yes, sir. So I’ve been told.”

With a nod, he dismissed her, but his mouth twisted almost up. Had she done something amusing? Unwilling to become the brunt of his joke, Sal turned for her marked spot and dropped her pack in the allocated square. That bag contained all of her worldly possessions. It wasn’t much – but was more than she’d had as a slave. Step by step, she could do this. Slave to soldier, soldier to elite. She’d get there. Maybe the Corporal’s almost-smile meant she had a chance? She turned to see the Black Blades better, hoping for some hint.

The lithe man had returned to the group and leaned beside a tall, nearly black-skinned human. Their mouths were still but both men looked right at her. Instinctually, her chin jerked up, making the human’s mouth break into a grin. Under her cap, Sal’s ears flicked back, but with them hidden from view, she made no effort to stop it. Then the larger man lowered his eyes. The blue ones still watched.

Sal turned her gaze onto the smaller man, shocked when his eyes dropped to the ground immediately. Did they realize what they’d done? Of course not. Humans didn’t understand. They stared in her eyes or avoided looking at her as it pleased them. While she mentally chided herself for being foolish, another Black Blade joined them, but this one halted her mental diatribe.

His hair was gold and long. He was taller than the soldier who took her papers, but not by much. The black man towered over both of them, but this new man’s coloration marked him as a crossbred. No one had hair that shade without iliran ancestry. It wasn’t blonde; the color was too yellow. When he leaned beside the lithe Corporal, Sal knew she was right. The new guy’s eyes were amber, and they never met hers.

It was hard not to smile, but she wasn’t about to show her teeth. She didn’t need to be accused of snarling at a superior officer. At least now she had hope. If they’d take such an obvious crossbred, then maybe she actually had a chance?

Wrenching her eyes away, the smile finally won. That one thought was enough to distract her from the scent of humans clustering around her. Each minute, more came, filling in the grid of numbers until there were no empty spaces left. It didn’t take long. Their arrival time had been clearly noted and none of them wanted to be late for this chance.

A bag hit the ground beside her, making her ears flick, but she refused to look. By the scent of his emotions, the recruit had noticed her. Fear and disgust were always distinct. Sal kept her eyes locked on the hard-packed dirt. She wasn’t here to make friends, not with her competition at any rate. She just had to make a good impression.

“Hey Odi,” the soldier hissed loudly.

“What?” This came from a guy in the row before her.

“You see this shit?” The man in spot 10 chuckled. “Guess they’re hard up for recruits this time.”

Around her, the gravel crunched as men turned to stare. Sal didn’t move. Humans had gawked at her for as long as she could remember. Keeping her face calm, she reminded herself that she was a soldier whether they liked it or not. All soldiersboth conscripts and volunteershad the right to apply for special operations with the elite units after two years of service. Sal had served three. There was no reason for the Black Blades to excuse her, and the opinions of these men didn’t matter.

“You scared she’ll beat you out of the running, Bardus?” Odi asked.

“Fuck that.” The man beside her stepped closer. “Hey bitch? You bite me and I’ll send your ass to the kennels, got it?”

Sal blinked slowly, but that was the only reaction he got.

“Too fuckin’ stupid to even speak Glish,” Bardus grumbled, making a few men around them chuckle.

Before things could escalate, the Black Blades suddenly called out, “Atten-tion!” making the two syllables into distinct words.

Sal snapped into position with the other candidates, glad for the distraction as the Lieutenant cantered through the gate toward them. Dramatically, he spun his horse to a halt. It pawed, and he patted its neck then dismounted. One of the Bladesthe dark skinned manstood ready to hold the animal for his commanding officer.

The Lieutenant made an impressive sight. Custom resin armor covered him from his feet all the way up. The dark material soaked up daylight, turning him into a walking shadow. At his back, a quiver full of arrows peeked over his right shoulder, an acrylic sword over the left, and a strange set of tubes were strapped to his leg. Reaching up to his throat, he unfastened his helm and peeled it from his head.

Smoldering eyes looked over each soldier before him, both applicants and elites alike. While the Blades met his gaze with a smile or a nod, the recruits seemed to melt under his pale green stare. Sal felt the weight of it. His face didn’t have a single sign of age or any scars to mar the angular beauty. His shoulders were broad and strong, and his waist had to be trim to fit behind that tight plackart. When he got to her, he paused, lingering in his inspection.

Sal felt like a weed in the garden.

“Welcome, applicants,” he said, moving on to the next man. “I know all of you are excited to show your strengths and prove that you are made for the Black Blades, but I want to make one thing clear. I do not owe any of you a position in my outfit. I will not take anyone that is not a good fit with my Blades. I chose you all because I hope to find one of you that will be what we need, but I have refused entire groups before, and I’m not afraid to do it again. A weak link is more likely to kill us than help us. None of you is guaranteed a position.”

As he spoke, the Lieutenant walked through the ranks, addressing his comments to all of them yet none of them. “The first row will go with Razor, the second with Shift, and the last with Arctic.” He gestured at the men as he named them. “The officers will assign barracks for the duration of our trials and a time for me to speak with each of you privately. You may be at ease.”

Then he turned to retrieve his horse, leading the animal away while a dusky man stepped forward. Their eyes naturally turned to him.

“I am Sergeant Dico,” he said. “Call sign: Razor. Please place your baggage in the wagon being brought up behind you, in the space corresponding to the number youre standing on. Well have your luggage moved to your cabins. Once your items are stored, make your way to your assigned officer, post-haste.”

The applicants began to scramble. They grabbed their bags and tossed them into the wagon before the horses were even fully stopped, with little care for the marked boxes they shoved out of alignment. The others were all men, most of them large men. At half their weight, Sal would never force her way through, so she waited, amused at their impatience.

That’s when Bardus turned his attention back to her. “Just take that shit home, bitch. We don’t need your type thinking they’re worthy of elite ops.”

“I thought the females were just myths,” Odi said, his eyes roaming across her small body. “Maybe we shouldn’t run her out quite yet. Heard they have tricks.”

She was tired of being treated like she was too stupid to understand the insult. “I’ll leave when the Black Blades dismiss me,” Sal said, glancing at his shoulder, adding, “sir.”

“A fucking iliri? You’re joking, right?”

She slid her bag into the proper spot, then turned to find her assigned officer.

“I didn’t dismiss you yet, Private!”

She stopped. The first man was a Lance Corporal, the second a Specialist. Both outranked her. “Sir, I’ve been ordered to report.”

“Fuck your bleached ass. You can just stand there a bit.” Lance Corporal Bardus evidently thought she had to obey.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the Sergeant’s orders over ride yours.” Sal tried not to smile as she leaned toward him. “You both should be reporting to your assigned officer as well.” The words were barely out of her mouth and she knew she’d gone too far.

Bardus backhanded her across the mouth, making her head snap back. Sal growled, her muscles tensing as her eyes found him. She was a conscript; he had the right, she reminded herself. Then he hit her again. His fist slammed into her temple, and the ground came up fast.

“Don’t you dare bite me!” he yelled.

Her tongue flicked out, tasting the blood on her lip as her eyes found her prey. The growl rumbled, growing louder, and her lips pulled back a split second before she lunged. How dare he touch her! She’d make the bastard pay. He was too weak and slow to evade her, and his throat was begging for her teeth. She pushed hard, intending to knock him to the ground, but a pair of strong arms caught her, yanking her back. The scent of a Black Blade wrenched her out of her frenzy, reminding her why she was here. It was the same elite who’d checked her papers.

“Enough!” Another Black Blade moved to stand between them. “Explain this!” He glared at the humans.

Sal submitted to the tone of authority, her anger dissipating into shame. When her head dropped, the arms holding her loosened slightly, never touching anything but her uniform. Across from her, two other Blades held her attackers firmly.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Sal said, hoping she could salvage this. “They gave me orders that conflicted with those of Sergeant Dico. My response was out of line and the Lance Corporal felt it was worthy of discipline.”

“The damned beast tried to attack me,” the recruit jeered. “Can’t trust the iliri, I tell ya. You ever see what happens when one of those fucks bites you?”

In her ear, a rough voice whispered, “I’m gonna let ya go. Do na hurt them.”

A nod showed she understood and he released her. Sal took the time to straighten her uniform, then tugged her cap tighter over her ears.

The First Sergeant waited for her to look up. “Is that all?”

“The discipline caught me off guard, sir. I reacted instinctually. The Lance Corporal felt threatened, so decided more discipline was needed.”

“I see.” The Blade turned to the soldiers. “Anything to add?”

“Yeah. The damned scrubber disobeyed orders – “

The officer cut him off, but never showed a sign of emotion. “No, the Private was following her superior’s orders. Our trials are not the place for you to throw your rank around.” He shook his head. “Zep, Cyno, escort them to the Lieutenant. Razor, I think they were yours?”

“Two and ten. The other’s Shift’s.

“Well, check the rest in and assign them rooms. I need to speak with the Private.”

“Yes, sir,” the Blades said in unison.

The man behind her moved to relieve Razor, the pair of them sharing a look before heading their separate ways. That left her alone with the First Sergeant, her stomach in knots. She’d already ruined her chance, reacting like an animal to a common disagreement. Why hadn’t she submitted? Why did she always feel the need to fight back? Her stupid instincts were going to keep her trapped behind a desk serving humans for the rest of her life! All that was left was the formal dismissal from the trials. She braced herself against hearing the words.

“Private Luxx, right?” he asked, ducking his head to look at her face.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m Arctic, the First Sergeant of the Black Blades, second in command of the unit.” When she said nothing, he continued, “I would appreciate it if you’d answer my questions more honestly next time.”

Her head snapped up, finding eyes nearly as white as her own waiting. “Sir?”

A kind smile preceded his words. “We all saw what happened, Private. In order for something to count as discipline and not cruelty, it requires disobedience. Pride is not disobedience, do you understand?”

She cocked her head to the side, trying to decide if she believed what his words hinted at. His white eyes made her want to, but turning exposed the bruise on her temple. Arctic grabbed the side of her face, tilting it for a closer look. She sucked in a breath. At his touch as snippets of conversations and images flooded her mind.

“Private?” he asked. She may need a medic. There’s a nasty bruise on her head and her lip was split. I can’t believe those fucks thought we’d look the other way while they abused –

Sal pulled her face from his hand. “I’m fine, sir.”

His pale eyes watched her for a long moment. “Think you’re up to finishing the trials?”

No matter how she tried, she couldn’t prevent the corner of her lip from rising. “Yes, sir.” The feral smile was taking over. She wasn’t done yet. “It would take more than a bruise to stop me, sir.”

Well, she‘s determined, Sal heard, even though Arctic’s mouth didn’t move. And I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I think we have something special here. You’ve got to see this.

“Thank you, sir,” Sal said, shocked at the compliment.


She swore she’d just heard him compliment her. The words had been in his voice, but he acted like he’d said nothing. His mouth hadn’t moved. Quickly she blurted out something plausible. “For allowing me to continue, sir. I assumed that’s what you meant.”

LT, I think we have a problem. “It is. Report to Shift. He already knows that you’ve been detained.”

She snapped a salute. “Thank you, sir.”

Turning to find her assigned officer, she made it a few steps before he called her name again, the words clear. “Private Luxx?”

She turned back. “Yes, sir?”

“Shit.” He gestured for her to wait. She can hear us. A pause followed, then, I touched her. She’s pure, and we have no experience with that. There’s so few left. Another pause. I can’t be sure. I didn’t link her in to begin with. I can shut the whole thing down, but I have no idea if I can cut her line. The next pause was longer. Understood. His eyes focused on her again. “So how much of that did you get?”

Years of practice kept her face expressionless. “I heard you call my name, sir.”

“Bullshit.” He smiled slyly. “Let’s try this again, because I didn’t do more than think your name and you smell like lies.”

Ice washed down her body leaving her skin tingling in its wake. She’d heard, he knew she’d heard, and he didn’t think she was crazy. Had she hit her head that hard? Why wasn’t he surprised? “It’s only a minor bruise, sir. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a moment.”

“You think that’s because you were hit in the head?”

“I’m an iliri, sir, not a fool.” She dared him to deny it.

Arctic actually laughed. “I never thought otherwise, Luxx. Now, let me assure you that your answer will not disqualify you from the trials. How much of that did you catch?”

Defeated, but comforted by the promise that they wouldn’t be kicking her out yet, Sal answered. “I heard you say I had a bruise, that you didn’t want to get someone’s hopes up, that you can shut the thing down, and then you called my name.”

“And did you hear the other person?” His eyes scanned her face. “Don’t worry, I just need to know.”

Relaxing slightly, Sal said, “No, sir. Just you, sir.”

“At least there’s that.” He sighed, running his fingers through his long dark hair. “No, you’re not losing your mind. What you’re hearing is a trick of my own iliran ancestry. Usually, I have to consciously allow someone to hear our thoughts. When did it start?”

She thought back. “When you touched me, sir.”

“Ah.” He nodded to himself. “Physical contact. That makes sense. I guess you came with the switch on. Look, I can’t lock you out, not yetsince I’m not sure exactly how you got inbut I’d appreciate if you keep this to yourself for the time being.”

A chuckle escaped. “And who would I tell, sir?”

“Good point.” His shoulders relaxed and he tilted his chin behind her. “Now go find Shift. He’ll assign you rooms.” Arctic turned away before she could salute.

Confused, she tried to push the strangeness out of her mind. She wasn’t here to wonder about the mysteries of the world or believe in miracles. She just had to get a position as an elite soldier. Maybe the whole thing was some practical joke, intended to make her look crazy. That would be a good way to get her excused from the trials, but it seemed she hadn’t ruined her chances yet.

Sal jogged to the meeting area just on the other side of the fountain. The man called Shift leaned casually against the fence, three soldiers in blue uniforms standing before him. The color of his skin hinted at iliran ancestry in him, as well. He looked up before she got close, pushing away from the wood rails to offer his hand. Sal took it out of habit, then fell into place beside the other soldiers.

Don’t worry, Shift said inside her head, I’ve already been told. I’m pretty sure you can hear me.

I really can, Sal thought, amazed, her eyes widening.

Nice, and I can hear you easily. Looks like you’re a natural. His face showed no hint of their conversation, the thought ending as he switched to his voice. “Glad they finally let you go, Private,” he teased. “You almost missed getting a room. The rest of you have your cabins and meeting times. Luxx, you’ll have cabin 12. That’s with the rest of the Black Blades. Being the only woman in the group, the Lieutenant wants to discourage extra curricular activities. Now, the rest of you are dismissed. Luxx, he’d like to meet with you now, rather than in the morning.” Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. We just need to sort out the incident earlier, he assured her.

Sal nodded. Am I going to be dismissed? she wondered.

Nah, Shift thought while he escorted her across the compound. Pretty sure you didn’t mean to send that, but you did. Look, we’re not a bunch of assholes, ok? You won’t be dismissed because some damned primates try to harass ya. And this little deal, Shift gestured between their heads, can’t exactly be ignored.

She nodded professionally but her heart was hammering. She’d already been noticed, and she wasn’t sure it was in a good way. When Shift gestured for her to follow, she fell in beside him, careful to stay just behind his shoulder. He might not be completely human, but she didn’t want to cause any more problems than she already had. Obviously, they accepted the crossbreds well enough. Maybe if she could convince them she was tame, they’d give her a chance?

He slowed his steps until she was beside him. Don’t do that. You’re not in shit, we just need to sort out a few things.

“Sorry, sir,” she muttered.

And don’t fuckin’ ‘sir’ me. Look, we’re not like that, ok? I don’t care what some human says you should do, we know what you are. If anything, I should be walking around behind you.

His thoughts shocked her. What?

Shift looked over to her quickly. You weren’t raised by an iliri, were you.

It wasn’t a question, but she decided to try answering. No. I was purchased young, as a pet and servant. I’ve never really met any other iliri.

Well, that’s going to make things harder. He gently touched her shoulder. It’s ok, though. You’re not alone anymore. Just breathe, I’m sure you can smell it.

Smell what?

Shift grinned. The truth. There’s so much more going on than you could ever guess. What we’re about to show you is just a hint.

Available April 2, 2016.  Preorder from Amazon:

Being the Outsider

alone-girl-sitting-on-window-waiting-someoneAt some point in our lives, I think we’ve all felt like an outsider.  It doesn’t matter if you’re cool – or not, rich, poor, or anything in between.  There will always be some dividing line that separates us from the rest of the group.

Of course there’s the biggies like race, sexual orientation, and religion/politics.  But the minor things can feel the same.  Maybe it was that time that you were the piano player in the midst of the drummers.  How about being the star football player at the ballet tryouts?  When you feel like you stand out, it sucks.  There’s a piece of you that wants to run and hide, another that wants to prove you can do this, and the one that is terrified.

I tried to capture that feeling in BloodLust.  Imagine being one of a kind, so rare that people stop and look, so freakish that everyone around you is scared of YOU.  How long would it take before you wanted to give up?  How could you change people’s minds?  What would you do?  Would the desperation to be accepted sink in after a year?  Ten?  Twenty?

Then imagine finding a place you truly belong.  Your personal nirvana.  Would it hurt more, or less, when that feeling of security is ripped away?  Could you go back to the hell you lived in before?  What other options would you have?

One of the most common things said about my writing is that it’s “real”.  Doesn’t matter if that’s one of my romances or the fantasy novels, my readers can find the grain of truth buried in the story.  Well, this is how it gets there.  Every book is built on one great lie.  One “What If” you might say.

From that single question, the characters develop, the world evolves around them, and the quest comes into focus.  The plot is always about the character’s personal goal.  The STORY is about that one question that makes the whole thing spin in my mind until it comes out my fingers.  Right now, I’m lost in the despair of being all alone while surrounded by so many others.  The end result is BloodLust, coming out in April.

There are always characters that don’t cooperate

LieutenantI pick up these pictures from all over the place as inspiration for characters.  This one is the Lieutenant from BloodLust.  It just looks like I thought an officer should.

So, I was going through my inspiration folder, saw this, and started thinking about that book.  Probably the hardest part was writing a character – who got POV chapters – who could see into the future.  Oh, it’s a fickle talent and not one that can be relied upon.  His visions come when they want and aren’t always about what he THINKS he needs to know.

But how do I keep the secrets?  How do I prevent spoiling the entire plot of the book… hell, the series?  Well, I peppered the novel with hints.  Some won’t come into play until book 5.  Some apply to the next chapter.  The thing with Blaec’s knowledge is that sometimes telling another will twist the potential outcomes just enough that bad things will happen.  It’s not a friendly skill.  It’s not the kind of thing you’d wish on your worst enemy, but he’s always had it.

Zep (2)I had to fight to keep him on track.  Oddly, though, he wasn’t the character that went rogue on me.  No, that was Zep.  My beta readers had to listen to countless hours of me whining about keeping that man on track.  Granted, he’s also become one of my favorite characters to ever write.  (The gorgeous photo to the right was my inspiration for him).

Zep was supposed to be the friendly antagonist.  He didn’t agree.  By chapter three of the first book, he’d already scrapped the original plot, re-written it into something better, and dared me to fulfill his every expectation.  When I tried to play it safe, he proceeded to say something that carried be off track (back to where he wanted me to go).

I always see these memes about the imaginary friends writers have, and well, I think the characters from Rise of the Iliri are mine.  At least they are my first group of book buddies – and that gives them a special place in my heart.

And unlike my other books, the Rise of the Iliri series is MEANT to be read again.  The first time through, you might miss a few things.  Oh, the story is just as good, and you’ll be sucked right in, but I’m hoping that the second time will be even better.  The third?  Who knows.  I’ve personally read it more times than I can count, but that’s a little different.  Oddly, I’m not sick of it.

Now, I’m trying to capture that magic in every novel I put out.  I’m not sure I’ll succeed, but I’m going to keep trying.  But at least I know, when the characters are real enough to change things on their own, the book should end up great.

One more off my list

Sal RunningCover, editing, series, move to the next.  THIS is the problem when you write about a novel a month for almost two years.  The entire process gets all bottle-necked.  Let me assure you, it’s an amazing problem to have.

You see, at first, I wanted to have my books published by one of those big places.  You know the ones I mean.  The problem is that I don’t write the stories they want.  Vampires?  Nah, that’s been done.  I make genetically modified humanoids subjugated by population.  Feudalistic Europe?  I’m more of a Germanic/Rome kinda fan.  Humans vs. monsters?  I prefer monsters vs. humans.  Over and over my fans keep saying two things consistently.  1.  Characters that feel real.  2. Unique plot.

Unfortunately, there’s no way to predict the sales of a “unique plot”.  That means companies who are forced to watch their bottom line get a bit nervous.  A series about gamers, written in a style like romance serials but with an action/adventure style plot?  They can’t figure out how to market it.  Then again, I can’t either, so I just tell my fans on twitter and facebook and hope that word of mouth really works.

But, the rambling point I’m coming around to, is that while waiting to see who would be interested in my first, second, or whatever book, I kept writing – and researching.  The deeper in I got, the more I realized that trade publishing may not be the answer I’m looking for.  There’s no way the big publishing houses can keep up with my writing.  They wouldn’t give half my books the time of day because there’s no profit/loss research on that subject.  And….

Truth be told, I’m a fan of the indie control.  I don’t have access to $5000 cover artists, but I do have people with skills.  Maybe it takes my artist longer.  Maybe my editor has a day job.  Maybe my beta readers are literary fanatics sick of reading the same ol’ thing.  Everyone involved in getting these books out to the fans are readers, the kind who like to curl up with a book and escape for a while.  And now that I have decided to throw all of my eggs in one basket (indie publishing) they are right behind me making this happen.

Which means two new series for my readers.  And yeah, all of these books are “done” (but waiting for editing and the finishing touches).  I just don’t want to scare away my fans, making them think their favorite series will be forgotten.  Most of these books are complete, sitting on my hard drive, waiting for a little polish to make them worthy of being seen.  Most of the work needed to get these books to the readers are things out of my control, so while I get excited about a new cover, or being able to announce yet another release date, know that I’m at home, frantically typing away on the rainbow colored list of corrections that need to be made so you all can get the one after that.

And this is why I love being an indie author.  Because I can tell you all the truth.  I am not gagged by an agent or publisher, urged to hold my tongue so that expectations aren’t crushed with the print is running late or the release date is pushed back.  I love being in control, even if that means accepting that I’m going to make mistakes.  I love knowing that the book I created will be the book you see – and hopefully love enough to tell all your friends about.