I'm very pleased to be able to share my interview with Rayne Hall, sharing about her new dark epic fantasy release, Storm Dancer. Be sure to check out information about her book and great contest at the bottom of this post.
What sort of demon does Dahoud
harbor inside of him? How does it manifest in his actions/personality?
The djinns in Storm Dancer are devious. They target young, vulnerable males with the promise to fulfill their deepest desires. Once the human consents to the pact, they twist those needs and drive their host to commit more and more evil deeds. The djinns feed on the evil. The more the human complies, the stronger they grow. When the human tries to resist, they torment him with temptations, desires, and unbearable pain.
Dahoud was a lonely adolescent when the djinn lured him with the promise that he would get female attention. He joined the army and became a feared siege commander. Siege warfare in the Bronze Age offered ways for a man to force female attention - and the djinn in Dahoud thrived on these deeds. When Dahoud matured, he came to understand how wrong it was. As an honourable man, he tried to cease, but it was too late. The djinn had already grown powerful and impossible to defeat.
The only way to gain a measure of control over the djinn is to weaken it by depriving it of fodder. Dahoud had to get away from the lures connected with siege warfare. He sacrificed his career, his identity, everything. He faked his own death and built a new life as a lowly labourer. For three years, he has succeeded in resisting the djinn's painful demands. He has won some control over his dark need and is able to live without harming women.
But the ruler tracks Dahoud down and forces him to once again lead a siege and subdue the people. If Dahoud succumbs to his dark need even once, the djinn will grow to its former strength and unleash unspeakable evil.
When weather magician, Merida, brings rain to a parched desert, she finds herself in serious danger. What threatens her?
Merida travels to a distant drought-plagued land to save the people from starvation. Her dance for rain is so successful that the ruler resolves to keep her. Merida finds herself captive in the harem of a ruler who uses her for sadistic mind games.
Dahoud and Merida are thrust together in a fight for freedom and survival. What skills does each possess that can help the other?
Dahoud has military experience and leadership skills, and is psychologically astute. He knows the country, the landscape and the people. His skilled drumming supports Merida's dance to raise magical power.
Merida can change the weather with her magic. She has knowledge of the world outside the local area, book learning, several languages, and impeccable organisation skills. She can also bellydance and is able to impersonate a professional performer when the lives of their people depend on it.
The two must work together despite feelings of hatred and betrayal. Why do they so intensely dislike each other?
When Merida escapes from the harem, she almost makes it to freedom... but Dahoud tracks her down and forces her back to captivity.
Dahoud believes the woman he shelters chastely in his room for a night is an impoverished tavern dancer, and rejoices that for once he has not harmed but helped a vulnerable woman... but Merida gets him beaten up, drugged and dumped in a latrine ditch.
The ruler plans to punish Merida for her attempted escape by bricking her up alive. When Dahoud risks his own life to save her, and the only way they can escape their peril is by contracting a marriage. They arrive at an uneasy truce... but then the djinn comes to life, and there some things a woman will not forgive.
Briefly describe the magical systems of your world. How do those who are empowered, warriors, magicians, and others, gain their abilities?
Magicians undergo extensive training
to learn their craft, and each is a specialist in their field. Merida's
speciality is weather magic. To raise the power, the magician goes into a
trance, often with the help of music and dancing. Where possible, magicians use
one element to attract another, for example,
fire helps to call water in the form of rain. After each magic act, the
magician is exhausted, vulnerable to attacks and abuse.
Even
in the shade of the graffiti-carved olive tree, the air sang with heat. Dahoud listened to the hum of voices
in the tavern garden, the murmured gossip about royals and rebels. If patrons
noticed him, they would only see a young clerk sitting among the lord-satrap's
followers, a harmless bureaucrat. Dahoud planned to stay harmless.
Rayne Hall has
published more than forty books under different pen names with different
publishers in different genres, mostly fantasy, horror and non-fiction. Recent
books include Storm Dancer (dark epic fantasy novel), Six Scary Tales Vol 1, 2
and 3 (mild horror stories), Six Historical Tales (short stories), Six Quirky
Tales (humorous fantasy stories), Writing Fight Scenes, The World-Loss Diet and
Writing Scary Scenes (instructions for authors).
website: https://sites.google.com/site/raynehallsdarkfantasyfiction/
The djinns in Storm Dancer are devious. They target young, vulnerable males with the promise to fulfill their deepest desires. Once the human consents to the pact, they twist those needs and drive their host to commit more and more evil deeds. The djinns feed on the evil. The more the human complies, the stronger they grow. When the human tries to resist, they torment him with temptations, desires, and unbearable pain.
Dahoud was a lonely adolescent when the djinn lured him with the promise that he would get female attention. He joined the army and became a feared siege commander. Siege warfare in the Bronze Age offered ways for a man to force female attention - and the djinn in Dahoud thrived on these deeds. When Dahoud matured, he came to understand how wrong it was. As an honourable man, he tried to cease, but it was too late. The djinn had already grown powerful and impossible to defeat.
The only way to gain a measure of control over the djinn is to weaken it by depriving it of fodder. Dahoud had to get away from the lures connected with siege warfare. He sacrificed his career, his identity, everything. He faked his own death and built a new life as a lowly labourer. For three years, he has succeeded in resisting the djinn's painful demands. He has won some control over his dark need and is able to live without harming women.
But the ruler tracks Dahoud down and forces him to once again lead a siege and subdue the people. If Dahoud succumbs to his dark need even once, the djinn will grow to its former strength and unleash unspeakable evil.
When weather magician, Merida, brings rain to a parched desert, she finds herself in serious danger. What threatens her?
Merida travels to a distant drought-plagued land to save the people from starvation. Her dance for rain is so successful that the ruler resolves to keep her. Merida finds herself captive in the harem of a ruler who uses her for sadistic mind games.
Dahoud and Merida are thrust together in a fight for freedom and survival. What skills does each possess that can help the other?
Dahoud has military experience and leadership skills, and is psychologically astute. He knows the country, the landscape and the people. His skilled drumming supports Merida's dance to raise magical power.
Merida can change the weather with her magic. She has knowledge of the world outside the local area, book learning, several languages, and impeccable organisation skills. She can also bellydance and is able to impersonate a professional performer when the lives of their people depend on it.
The two must work together despite feelings of hatred and betrayal. Why do they so intensely dislike each other?
When Merida escapes from the harem, she almost makes it to freedom... but Dahoud tracks her down and forces her back to captivity.
Dahoud believes the woman he shelters chastely in his room for a night is an impoverished tavern dancer, and rejoices that for once he has not harmed but helped a vulnerable woman... but Merida gets him beaten up, drugged and dumped in a latrine ditch.
The ruler plans to punish Merida for her attempted escape by bricking her up alive. When Dahoud risks his own life to save her, and the only way they can escape their peril is by contracting a marriage. They arrive at an uneasy truce... but then the djinn comes to life, and there some things a woman will not forgive.
Briefly describe the magical systems of your world. How do those who are empowered, warriors, magicians, and others, gain their abilities?
*~*~*
Storm Dancer
Rayne Hall
Genre: Dark Epic
Fantasy
Publisher:
Scimitar Press
ISBN:
9781465716651 Smashwords
ISBN:
1230000010279 Kobo
ASIN: B005MJFV58
Number of
pages: 400
Word Count:
150,000
Book Description:
Demon-possessed siege commander, Dahoud,
atones for his atrocities by hiding his identity and protecting women from
war's violence - but can he shield the woman he loves from the evil inside him?
Principled weather magician, Merida, brings rain to a
parched desert land. When her magical dance rouses more than storms, she needs
to overcome her scruples to escape from danger.
Thrust together, Dahoud and Merida must fight for
freedom and survival. But how can they trust each other, when hatred and
betrayal burn in their hearts?
'Storm Dancer' is a dark epic fantasy. Caution: this
book contains some violence and disturbing situations. Not recommended for
under-16s. British spellings.
Book Trailer http://youtu.be/tI5oxeOziQM
Note:
Storm Dancer has dark elements which some readers may find disturbing. Not
recommended for readers under 16, not suitable for YA blogs.
Contains British English. Some words, spellings,
grammar and punctuation will be different than American English.
STORM
DANCER - EXCERPT - First Scene (1500 words)
The tavern bustled with women
- whiteseers hanging about in the hope of earning a copper, traders celebrating
deals, bellydancers clinking finger cymbals - women who neither backed away
from him nor screamed.
The youngest of the
entertainers wound her way between the benches towards their table, the tassels
on her slender hips bouncing, the rows of copper rings on her sash tinkling
with every snaky twist. Since she seemed nervous, as if it was her first show,
he sent her an encouraging smile. Ignoring him, she shimmied to Lord Govan.
The djinn slithered inside
Dahoud, stirring a stream of fury, whipping his blood into a hot storm. Would she dare to disregard the Black
Besieger? What lesson would he teach to punish her insolence?
Dahoud stared past her sweat-glistening torso,
the urge to subdue her washing over him in a boiling wave. For three years, he
had battled against the djinn's temptations. To indulge in fantasies would
batter his defences and breach his resistance. He focused on the flavours on
his tongue, the tart citron juice and the sage-spiced mutton, on the tender
texture of the meat.
Govan clasped the dancer's wrist
and drew her close. “Come, honey-flower, let's see your blossoms.”
She tried to pull herself from
his grip. Panic painted her face. Against a lesser man's groping, she might
defend herself with slaps and screams, but this was the lord-satrap. She was
too young to know how to slip out of such a situation, and none of her older
colleagues on the far side of the garden noticed her plight. The other clerks
at the table laughed.
“My Lord,” Dahoud said. “She
doesn't want your attentions.”
“She’s only a bellydancer.”
Contempt oiled Govan's voice. Still, he released the girl’s hand, slapped her
on the rump, and watched her scurry towards the safety of the musicians. “These
performers are advertised as genuine Darrians. I have a mind to have them
arrested for fraud. I suspect ...” He ran the tip of his finger along his
eating bowl. “They're mere Samilis.”
Dahoud, himself a Samili,
refused to react to the jab. Govan was not only satrap of the province, but
Dahoud's employer, as well as the father of the lovely Esha.
“Samilis are everywhere these
days.” Peering down his nose, Govan swirled the wine in his beaker. “Not that I
have anything against Samilis. Given the right kind of education, their race
can develop remarkable intelligence, practically equal to that of Quislakis.
They can make valuable contributions to society.” He stroked the purple fringe
of his armband, insignia of his rank. “Provided they respect their betters.”
The other clerks at the table
bobbed their chins in eager agreement.
Dahoud the Black Besieger
would not have tolerated taunts from this pompous peacock, but Dahoud the
council clerk had to bow. Submission was the price for guarding his secret.
At the entry arch, a short man
in the yellow tunic and turban of a royal rider was consulting with the tavern
keeper.
“Is that messenger looking for
you, my Lord?” Dahoud asked.
Govan shifted into his
official pose and summoned the man with a flick of his sandalwood fan. The
courier walked on bowed legs as if he still had a mount between his thighs. Conversations
halted, glances followed him, and whiteseers peered, anticipating business.
Lord Govan put on his official
smile to receive the leather-wrapped parcel.
“Forgive me, my Lord,” the
herald said. “The message I carry is for Dahoud, the clerk.”
Govan’s hand pulled back and
his smile vanished.
Dahoud's stomach went cold:
The Queen or her Consort would not write to an ordinary clerk. After three
years of respite, his anonymity was breached. He stripped off the camel-skin
wrap and broke the scroll's seal. The ends of the purple ribbon dropped into
the mutton sauce.
“The High Lord Kirral, Consort to the Great Luminous Queen, greets
Dahoud, council clerk in the satrapy of Idjlara: Present yourself at the palace
without delay. The Queendom needs the Black Besieger. K.”
The expansive curves of the
signature “K” claimed more space on the parchment than the message.
In his bowl, the uneaten mutton was going
cold, whitish grease separating from the sauce. A large fly drifted belly-up in
the liquid, its legs clawing for a hold in the air. The memories of siege
warfare wrapped around Dahoud, those sour-sweet odours of fear and faeces, of
disease and burning flesh.
At twenty-five, he had a
conscience heavier than a brick-carrier’s tray and more curses on his head than
a camel had fleas. He had left the legion to cut himself off temptation, to
deprive the djinn of fodder. After a siege, rape was legal, a soldier's right,
practically expected of him, part of the job. By returning to war, he would
forfeit his victories over his craving. The djinn would again be his master.
Yet he ached to wear the
general's cloak again, to silence sneering bureaucrats, to make women take
notice. He lusted for that power the way a heavy drinker, deprived of his
solace, ached for a sip of wine. The yearning to wield a sword ached in his
arms, his chest throbbed with the urge to command, and his loins flamed with
the dark desire. He felt the panting breaths of women and their hot resisting
bodies, smelled the scent of female fright and sweating fury.
“Why is the Consort writing to
you?” Govan leant forward to grab the document. “You’re out of your depth with
royal matters. I'll read and explain.”
“Why should I want your
counsel?” Dahoud tucked the rolled parchment into his belt.
“Don’t get pert, Samili!”
Govan barked. “Give me that letter.”
“The Consort summons.” Dahoud
rose. “Good afternoon, my Lord. Don't expect me back soon.”
He strode to the exit, his
mind reeling like a spindle. Could he deny that he was the Black Besieger? Refuse
a royal order? Lead an army without stimulating the djinn?
On a low stone wall near the
entrance gate, a row of whiteseers perched like hungry birds. Whiteseers had
glimpses of futures others could not even imagine. One of them slid off the
wall and sauntered in his direction. A coating of pale clay covered her
sharp-boned triangular face and her long hair, and painted black and blue rings
adorned her clay-whitened arms.
“Your hands,” she demanded.
“I need to know what will
happen if -”
“Give your copper to a
soothsayer,” she snapped. “We white ones only give advice. We can see the
future; we can see several futures for everyone, but we won’t tell you all we
see.”
“Advice is all I want.”
“That’s what they all say. Yet
everyone asks for more. I give one piece of advice, the best I can give to help
a client. They always demand that I tell them what I see. Well, I won’t.”
Nevertheless, she grabbed the copper ring from Dahoud’s fingers and threaded it
on her neck-thong. Her tunic smelled of old sweat and mouldy wool.
She grasped his hands to pinch
their flesh, her long nails tickling. Her white paint contrasted with Dahoud’s
bronze tan. When she felt the pulse and lifted his hand to her face to listen
and sniff, he could have sworn he saw her blanch under the white clay as her
closed eyes stared into his past. She sagged forward and stayed in a silent
slouch.
At last she straightened, her
eyes wide, her mouth open, but no words burst forth. So she had seen what he
had done, and worse, what he might do once more.
“I assure you, I'll never
again...”
“I can’t read if you chatter.”
She frowned at his hands. “My advice: Get stronger arms.”
He flexed his biceps,
startled. “My arms are strong! I do trickriding, I wrestle, I lift
weights.” Every night, Dahoud exercised until his muscles screamed, to block
out his cravings and punish his body for its desires.
The seer’s mouth curled with
contempt, making more clay crumble. “You’re not listening. I didn't say strong. I said stronger.” She pinched his biceps. “Much stronger.”
“What difference can arm
muscles make?”
“I told you to give your
copper to a soothsayer.” She ambled off, leaving a cloud of unwashed stink and
crumbles of clay.
Dahoud hurried to the stable
to ready his horse. He had to persuade the Consort not to send the Black
Besieger back to war.
About Rayne Hall
Rayne Hall has
published more than forty books under different pen names with different
publishers in different genres, mostly fantasy, horror and non-fiction. Recent
books include Storm Dancer (dark epic fantasy novel), Six Scary Tales Vol 1, 2
and 3 (mild horror stories), Six Historical Tales (short stories), Six Quirky
Tales (humorous fantasy stories), Writing Fight Scenes, The World-Loss Diet and
Writing Scary Scenes (instructions for authors).
She holds a
college degree in publishing management and a masters degree in creative
writing. Currently, she edits the Ten Tales series of multi-author short story
anthologies: Bites: Ten Tales of Vampires, Haunted: Ten Tales of Ghosts,
Scared: Ten Tales of Horror, Cutlass: Ten Tales of Pirates, Beltane: Ten Tales
of Witchcraft, Spells: Ten Tales of Magic, Undead: Ten Tales of Zombies and
more.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RayneHall
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/rayne.hall
Giveaway: is an ebook at each stop. One lucky commenter will win the book The Colour of Dishonour - Stories from the Storm Dancer World.
0 comments:
Post a Comment