Thursday, October 13, 2022

Meet My Fellow Wild Rose Press Author Helen C. Johannes and Read About Her Fantasy Romance BLOODSTONE

 About Helen

Helen writes award-winning fantasy romance inspired by the fairy tales she grew up reading and the amazing historical places she’s visited in England, Ireland, Scotland and Germany. She writes tales of adventure and romance in fully realized worlds sprung from pure imagination and a lifelong interest in history, culture, and literature. Warriors on horseback, women who refuse to sit idly at home, and passion that cannot be denied or outrun—that’s what readers will find in her books.



About BLOODSTONE

What if looking at the face of the man you loved meant death?

Years ago, warrior Durren Drakkonwehr was cursed by a mage. Now feared and reviled as the Shadow Man, he keeps to himself, only going to town to trade rare bloodstones—petrified dragon's blood—for supplies. Though he hides his face, he can't hide his heart from the woman who haunts his dreams...

Needing bloodstones for a jewelry commission, Mirianna and her father journey across the dreaded Wehrland where the beast-men roam. When their party is attacked, only the Shadow Man can save them. Strangely drawn to him, Mirianna offers herself in return for her father's rescue.

Living in the ruined fortress with the Shadow Man, Mirianna slowly realizes that a flesh-and-blood man—not a fiend—hides there in hoods and darkness. But are love and courage enough to lift the curse and restore the man?


About Writing BLOODSTONE in Helen's Words 

Writing fantasy romance is a challenge, creating worlds from literally the soil upward. How do I handle that? By fusing imagination with relevant life experiences.

For instance, I’ve never lived as a cursed warrior in a land populated by beast-men, but I have experienced a high mountain meadow in spring, ridden horses, and learned about panning for gems from my father’s Alaskan experience. I’ve never fended off danger with swords, but I’ve travelled the UK, hefted swords to learn about balance, and explored tumble-down castles.

None of that, however, made writing these three characters from BLOODSTONE any less challenging.

#1: The Shadow Man

Mirianna and her father fell into place, but my hero, the Shadow Man, refused to tell me his real name. I wrote a third of the book before he reluctantly revealed it. That resistance was clue to his character. Being an ‘into-the-mist’ writer, I had to keep writing to discover the truth.

The Shadow Man wants to be left alone. But beneath this stated goal is a deeper need: he’s lonely. When the opportunity comes to relieve his loneliness with a blind boy servant, he impulsively acts against his stated goal. Conflict ensues. His neatly ordered life, miserable as it has been, falls apart despite repeated attempts to maintain his solitude. What he thinks he wants and what he needs are at odds, and that’s just his internal conflict.

Add a woman so determined to protect her aging father she embarks on a dangerous journey, an old enemy seeking power, and a—possibly—magical lion shadowing his every step, and my hero has more than enough conflict. By first draft’s end, he had dug up and faced every ugly truth preventing him from being the man he ought to be, the man he’d chosen to bury (that real name).

Whew!

#2: The lion

I’ve never lived with a mountain lion, but I’ve lived with cats. However, even I didn’t know when I started writing who or what this lion would be. (Remember that seat-of-the-pants thing?) She appeared with various characters at critical moments, and I had to let her gradually reveal how she was connected. Additional challenge: she has no point of view, so I couldn’t get into her head like I could my hero. (He was just stubborn; she was downright enigmatic.) So, write a mountain lion-like cat into a fantasy when you have no idea why she’s there, except she was in the very first scene from which this book sprang, and you have the idea of this challenge.

#3: Gareth

I’ve worn corrective lenses since childhood, but I’m in no way as severely visually limited as Gareth. Thinking of sensations, sounds, and smells as his primary means of interpreting the world forced me to expand my means of description. I also had to remember he was 13, not an adult. Writing him was a definite challenge, but also remarkably satisfying.

Want to try your hand at fantasy romance? Don’t be afraid to write what you don’t know. Fuse a bit of imagination with a fragment of authentic experience and even the seemingly impossible can become satisfying and convincing fiction…if you’re up to the challenge.


An Excerpt

“Perhaps we can share your fire.”

            In the joy of finding her father, Mirianna had forgotten Rees and Pumble, the two men the Master of Nolar had given her father as escort. And even that dark being which stood somewhere behind her and drew Rees’s stony glare. The Master of Nolar’s man still sat his horse, and his hand hovered near his bow. Beside Rees, Pumble stood, sweating, his fingers twitching over the hilt of his sword. She turned slowly in her father’s arms.

            “I said,” Rees repeated, “perhaps we can share your fire, this time...Shadow.”

            The Shadow Man stood at the rock ledge, his body as motionless as a bat captured by the sun. His hand rested on the hilt of the sword in his belt, and between his gloved fingers something glinted red. His hood revealed only a drape of cloth where his face should be, yet she knew underneath every inch of that which passed for face was turned on Rees, and the air between them stretched to a brittle thinness.

            “Do with it as you please,” he said at last. “The boy and I were just about to leave.”

            “Wait!” Tolbert put Mirianna aside. “I need—”

            “Bloodstone?” The black hood swiveled. Her father stiffened under the weight of the invisible regard. “There is no more bloodstone, old man. Go home, while you still can.”

            Tolbert shook his head violently. “But Ulerroth—”

            “Ulerroth is a fool,” said the voice that vibrated along Mirianna’s nerves. “And so are you, if you stay another day in the Wehrland.”

            A stallion’s shrill scream punctuated his words.

            The Shadow Man spun. Below the rock ledge, the tethered horses milled, huffing. The blind boy clung to the pack mare’s halter, his face a pasty white. “Sir, I think I smell—”

            “Krad!” Rees coughed, recoiling from a wave of stench that stole Mirianna’s breath.

            “They must have followed us!” Pumble wheezed.

            “Fools!” The Shadow Man’s faceless gaze raked from Rees to Mirianna. “I should damn you all to Beggeth, but the Krad will see to that soon enough.” He turned. “Gareth, free the horses!”

            “Wait!” Tolbert said as an unearthly, high-pitched clamor erupted from the woods below. “What about us? What do we do?”

            Only the hood rotated, cocking with exaggerated deliberation. “Why, you die, old man.”

            Her father blanched. His grip on Mirianna’s arms faltered.

            She saw the Shadow Man turn, saw the muscles of his thighs bunch as he prepared to leap down the hillside, saw, in the corner of her eye, shapes gathering along the tree line below, horrible shapes she’d seen only hours before rushing at her from a darkened clearing. With a shudder, she broke from her father’s grasp.

            “Please!” She reached out to the black sleeve. “Help us!”

            He recoiled at her touch like one snake-bitten. The sudden, sharp focus of his regard staggered her, but she backed no more than a step. No matter how he terrified her, he’d helped her once. She’d been led to him again, and not, her instincts told her, without reason.

            “Please,” she repeated. “Help us. I—we’ll do anything.”

            “Anything?”

            His voice was a whisper that caressed flesh. Mirianna’s stomach quivered. Her breasts tingled. Her mouth grew even drier. Without thinking, she slid her tongue along her lips. Vaguely, she wondered what she’d done. And why time seemed suspended, as if everyone but she and the Shadow Man had been cast in stone and all sound arrested. All sound except the taut, guttural repeat of his question.

            “Anything?


Purchase BLOODSTONE

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Connect With Helen

email: helen.c.johannes.@gmail.com

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2 comments:

  1. I want to read this one next!! And "Now and Always", too! Loved "Dark Brew"--eager to read more!!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I have such respect for fantasy writers. Your job always seems insurmountable to me. Thanks for explaining how you character build. In many ways, it's not much different than what I do for cozy mysteries. Thanks for sharing!

    ReplyDelete

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