Today I'm pleased to bring my readers a guest post from author Christian A. Brown about why he writes fantasy. Be sure to check out his new release, Feast of Fates and also his great contest at the bottom of this post.
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Why I Write
by Christian A. Brown
Well there’s whopper of a question that authors often ask themselves. When I decided that I was
going to give this “writing” thing a go, I chose to treat it with the same
seriousness one applies to a career. Over the course of this journey, I’ve had
to amass connections in creative, marketing, advertising and literary
professional fields. I’ve had to wear every hat imaginable. I’ve invested a
decent portion of my savings as well; you know, that stuff you’re never
supposed to touch.
You could say that I’ve gambled my life on
this. You would be correct. But if you can push past the fear, the insecurity,
the worrying over the gamble that you’ve taken, you can reach a state of
clarity where hard-work and a bit of luck mostly determines the outcome of your
fate. I guess that’s a similar journey to what my characters (and certain
villains) take. Only the perils and threats with which they must contend are far
graver than finding an audience. I am overjoyed, really and truly, that so many
of you are enchanted with Feast of Fates. And don’t forget, that if you like
the novel, if you are as passionate about seeing the rest of the tangled,
sweeping tale I have envisioned, then the best thing you can do for me is to
share your wonder with someone else. Tell a friend, a co-worker. Sure, I’d love
it if they bought a copy, but lend them yours if hesitation presents itself.
Stories exist to be shared. In many ways,
you folks—the ones who bought into my work—are a part of my gamble. You are the
reason that I keep rolling the dice. Yes, authors will say: “I only write for
myself.” I think that’s a rather narrow stance, and involves a measure of
self-deception. If I was only interested in private monologues, I’d start
keeping a journal. I’m not. I want to write. I want others to find wisdom,
laughter, and even a little pain in my experiences. However deeply I entwine my
metaphors in colorful characters and fantastic settings, I am, fundamentally,
having a conversation with my audience. I am speaking to you—broadly—but the
act of reading still remains a conversation. So for me, I do not write for
myself, I write to interact with others. I write, because you and I can speak and
share in pain, joy, and love, even though we have never met.
The real magic, lies not within my tales
with their immortal kings and ancient powers. The real magic is that thread
between people miles and continents apart, between page and mind, across gender
and nearly every other divide. When I hear from readers, I know that connection
has been made. A very real and extraordinarily magical link between souls and
minds. Even more humbling to me, is that I can continue that conversation with
your children, and their children, well after we are dust. I can’t think of a
greater honor or task to which to commit my life. I leave you now, to work on
some more of those “conversations”.
I wish you all a wonderful week.
All the best,
– C
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Feast
of Fates
Four
Feasts Till Darkness
Book
One
Christian
A. Brown
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Date of Publication: September 9,
2014
ISBN: 978-1495907586
Number of pages: 540
Word Count: 212K
Cover Artist: Brian Garabrant
Book Description:
"Love is
what binds us in brotherhood, blinds us from hate, and makes us soar with
desire.”
Morigan lives a quiet life as the
handmaiden to a fatherly old sorcerer named Thackery. But when she crosses
paths with Caenith, a not wholly mortal man, her world changes forever. Their
meeting sparks long buried magical powers deep within Morigan. As she attempts
to understand her newfound abilities, unbidden visions begin to plague
her--visions that show a devastating madness descending on one of the Immortal
Kings who rules the land.
With Morigan growing more
powerful each day, the leaders of the realm soon realize that this young woman
could hold the key to their destruction. Suddenly, Morigan finds herself beset
by enemies, and she must master her mysterious gifts if she is to survive.
Available at Amazon and Createspace
Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/8E_RVXgpqB8
Feast of Fates, Excerpt
Morigan took the bracelet.
“I
accept your offering.” The Wolf’s face lit and she thought that he would leap
at her. “Yet first, I have a request.”
“Anything, my Fawn.”
“I
would like to see…what you are. The second body that shares your soul. Show me
your fangs and claws,” she commanded.
Perhaps it was the steadiness of her voice, how she ordered him to bare himself
as if he belonged to her that made the Wolf’s heart roar to comply. He did not
shed his skin but for the whitest moons of the year, and even then, so far from
the city and never in front of another. In a sense, he was as much a virgin as
she. With an unaccustomed shyness, he found himself undressing before the Fawn,
confused for a speck as to who was the hunter. The flare of her nostrils, the
intensity of her stare that ate at him for once.
I
have chosen well for a mate. She is as much a Wolf as I, he
thought, kicking off his boots and then shimmying his pants down to join the
rest of his clothing. No bashful maiden was Morigan, and she did not look away
from his nakedness, but appreciated what she saw: every rough, hairy, huge bit
of him.
He
howled and fell to all fours. Bones shifted and snapped, rearranging under his
skin like skeletal gears. From his head, chest and loins, the soft black hair
thickened and spread over his twisting flesh. His heaving became guttural and
sloppy, and when he tossed his head up in a throe of agony or pleasure, his
beard had coated his face, and she noticed nothing but white daggers of teeth.
Wondrously Morigan witnessed the transformation, watched him swell with twice
the muscle he had possessed as a man, saw his hands and feet shag over with fur
and split the soil with black claws. Another howl and a final gristle-crunching
shudder (his hindquarters snapping into place, she thought) signified the end
of the change.
Her
dreams did not do Caenith justice. Here was a beast twice the size of a mare
with jaws that could swallow her to the waist. Here was a monster that had
stalked and ruled the Untamed. A lord of fang and claw. The birds and weaker
animals vanished, knowing a deadly might was near. Around her, the Wolf paced;
making the ground tremble with power; ravishing her with his cold gray gaze;
huffing and blasting her with his forceful breaths. While the scent of his musk
was choking, it was undeniably Caenith’s, if rawer and unwashed.
Morigan was not afraid, and was flushed with heat and shaking as she slipped
the bracelet on and knelt. She did not flinch as the Wolf lay behind and about
her like a great snuffling rug and placed his boulder of a head in her lap. No,
she stroked his long ears and his wrinkled snout. A maiden and her Wolf. Soon
the birds returned, sensing this peace and chirping in praise of it. And
neither Morigan nor the Wolf could recall a time—if ever there was one—where
they had felt so complete.
About
the Author
Christian A. Brown has written
creatively since the age of six. After spending most of his career in the
health and fitness industry, Brown quit his job to care for his mother when she
was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma in 2010.
Having dabbled with the novel
that would eventually become Feast of Fates for over a decade, Brown was
finally able to finish the project. His mother, who was able to read a
beginning version of the novel before she passed away, has since imbued the
story with deeper sentiments of loss, love, and meaning. He is proud to now
share the finished product with the world.
Links
Tour giveaway
5 signed copies of FoF (Launch Edition) shipped anywhere within US/ Canada.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
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