Tag: romance novel

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Power Dynamics in Allmother Rising

Every world has its own unique power dynamic, and there are a few in my upcoming novel.

There are, of course, the gods. The Allmother created and encompasses everything, even the other god, her son, Aia. Both are powerful, but as the younger god, Aia is less so.

Both have the ability twist the heart of a mortal to their whim. Both can compel mortals to act. Only one chooses to use that ability.

And only one chooses to bestow portions of their power upon mortals to aid them.

The gods exist within a separate plane, one that the Allmother’s followers can visit via a form of astral projection when in need of guidance. But only certain people possess a strong enough connection to do so and see it clearly.

Namely, those of the Vierna lineage. Thus, they became the leaders of Kin. A High Priest and High Priestess lead, governing according to the Allmother’s will. Their child is born to the title Priest/Priestess Rising and is raised to the responsibility of protecting and guiding an entire nation.

The leaders of Jun and Fahn were once able to visit Her realm and perceive it clearly. But Jun fell away from Her, establishing a monarchy and moving into lands where Aia could manipulate them without their knowing. Then, they overran Fahn, sending those peaceful people scattering, transforming them into desperate refugees.

And they all lost their sight of Her.

But how are they connected? And what’s in that other plane of existence?

You know that warm amber light just before sunset or just after sunrise? That exact light fills the plane, and everywhere, there are gleaming silver strands. They reach in every direction, linking glittering silver balls of energy.

The ropes are the connections between people. Family, friendships, partnerships. The energies are the people themselves, their spirits, and their names are emblazoned on them in brilliant blue letters in the Allmother’s language.

The leaders, the original leading families, are directly connected to the Allmother herself. As such, the rope that ties them to their ancestors (and to her) is substantially thicker than those which connect mortals to other mortals. This allows them to better see Her… and to better channel Her powers.

But there’s a problem in Jun.

And I want to include an excerpt from the book to show you. This scene takes place immediately after Veliana and Tyrvahn meet. She asks his name, and he hesitates. Then, this: (Tala is Veliana’s dire wolf, btw.)

~~~

“Tahrn,” he finally answers, but the Allmother’s light dims behind his eyes as he speaks it.

Tala lifts her head, tipping it to the side.

But why would he lie about his name? Whatever the reason, it can’t be good…

“Tahrn,” I repeat, tasting the falsehood. “Do you know the power of a name?”

“Life or death?” The smile vanishes from his face, and he takes another bite of the deer jerky. He studies it closely, unwilling to meet my gaze.

My brows furrow, and I stare at him, wondering at his odd answer.

Is he a wanted man?

Yet again, a strange little shiver dances down my spine, defying all reason.

But… A wanted man beneath the rule of Paikon? That might not be… entirely bad.

“In some cases, I suppose it could be a matter of life or death.” Taking a deep breath, I extoll the true purpose of our names. “Surnames tie the energy of one to those of others. The Allmother laces people together with names. When we Kin are sealed, we inherit each other’s names and are tied to each other’s families. Children inherit blended names. Only the High Seal is an exception.”

A bolt of lightning flashes outside, a mimicry of that which tingled across my skin when our hands brushed.

Stop thinking about it.

Thunder rumbles outside. I wait it out before speaking, giving myself a moment to gather my thoughts.

Glancing at him, I continue, “The Vierna name is always handed down whole, maintaining a perfect connection throughout the Rising line, and a blended surname of all the Sealed forebears accompanies it.”

Under his breath, the stranger says, “Veliana Vierna Alaken.”

I nod, surprised that he knows all three of my names.

“Your kind weigh and measure bonds. The surname which affords them more power is kept, and the other is discarded. Names and power divide your land.”

He finally meets my gaze, and his mouth falls open at my assessment of his country. But he nods, unable to deny it.

Self-conscious about my rambling, I bring myself around to the point, “Given names are different. When a child is named, the Allmother braids their given name into the core of their energy. Denying your given name denies your energy, dimming your connection to the Allmother.”

I watch his chest rise with a sharp breath and tell myself that I’m only measuring his reaction. But even after he exhales, my eyes linger in the hollows of his collarbones, just barely visible, peeking out at the open collar of his shirt.

He nods slowly, and little drops of rainwater fall from his hair. Outside, the rain slows, and the winds die down.

“Now, knowing the power that your name holds, knowing how it hurts your energy to deny it, who are you?”

~~~

Jun chooses which name advances them politically when they’re sealed (married). But in abandoning a surname, the rope connecting them to those others in the Allmother’s realm is severed, cutting them off from others in their community and in an indirect way, from Her.

Which leaves more room for Aia to move into their hearts and control them.

Preorder Allmother Rising here.

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My thoughts on Insta-love vs Slow Burn

Hi, guys!

So, it’s no secret that I’m not a fan of insta-love in books, whether I’m writing or reading.

I much prefer the sweet, drawn out tension of a slow burn. That will they/won’t they, that back and forth, is just way more appealing to me.

But I’m not sure I’ve ever explained why except to a few individuals.

Now, bear in mind, this is just my opinion. You’re free to write or read whatever you want. In fact, I actively encourage it. The literary world needs to serve all readers and writers.

But that’s a rant I’ve done before.

On to the topic at hand.

To me, insta-love just isn’t immersive or realistic.

I know that sounds rich coming from a sci-fi/fantasy writer. Magic and dragons and werewolves aren’t real.

But that’s the element of the fantastical that I prefer.

I want the characters, their personalities, and their interactions to be believable and immersive.

Instantly falling in love just isn’t believable for me.

Instant attraction, yeah. That makes way more sense. That happens to people all over the globe, day in and day out.

But if two characters just fall in love within a day or a week, I start trying to figure out if they have some sort of attachment problems, psychologically speaking.

And that isn’t usually what insta-love writers want their readers focusing on.

Plus, I always find myself picking out red flags, little things the characters should notice about each other (but don’t), and find it all a little worrisome.

Because there are usually a few.

Or a lot.

So I just tend to stay away from insta-love books, in general.

There are exceptions, of course.

If it’s written into the fabric of the world and based in a magical element…that makes more sense to me. Or in books where the aim is to show the dangers of losing yourself in a relationship, insta-love makes sense then, too.

But it just doesn’t work for me, outside of those few exceptions.

I’ll take the slow progress, the building chemistry, the back and forth and will they/won’t they of a slow burn over insta-love any day.

Again, this is all personal opinion. I strongly advise you to read or write whatever you want.

Where do you stand on the matter?

Come back next week to find out why I write romance into even my darkest books.

Now, as far as my progress on my books is concerned.

I finished the first round of edits on Second to None last week, battled countless technological demons, wrote about 6,000 words in The Regonia Chronicles, decided to move the divider between book one and two within the series, and got A Heart of Salt & Silver up for preorder in paperback and ebook. The hardback will be available soon.

Check it out here: mybook.to/AHeartOfSaltAndSilver

I need to jump into another round of edits on either Allmother Rising or Where Darkness Leads, soon.

I’d say that I’ll have eventually have fewer projects going at once, but that would be a lie. And I’m okay with that.

Keep reading. Keep writing.

Later.

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World for the Broken: Behind the Scenes

Hi, guys!

Holy shit, it’s almost release day! It’s freaking tomorrow!!!!

*gasp*

I can hardly believe that, as of tomorrow, I’ll have FOUR books published. I’m ecstatic.

And in honor of release day, I wanted to share the origin of this gut-wrenching book.

It all started…with the trailer for an erotic film. Which is ironic since an actual sex scene is one of the only triggers not included in the book, even though a brothel features pretty heavily in the plot.

It was a high end, story driven one (obviously, since it had a damn trailer). Anyway, the trailer consisted of a girl wearing heavy furs and old-timey clothes tromping through the snow on a mountain side until she passed out. Then, some guy, also wearing furs and medieval clothes, found her and carried her to safety.

And for some reason, the idea of someone finding someone near-dead in the snow just stuck with me.

I’d been in a post-apocalyptic headspace for a while, so I shifted it to that rather than a fantasy setting.

Of course, I didn’t want the baggage of “Is he going to kill me or worse?” hanging over the love interest, what with the potential hostage situation, so I flipped the genders. I don’t particularly enjoy writing women who fall in love with men after thinking they might kill or rape them.

So, Chloe found Christian bleeding in the snow. Then, I just needed a reason for him to be there, which is where Karen (Christian’s sister-in-law), Jesse (Christian’s late brother), and Tate (Christian’s nephew) came in. I built the world around them, unintentionally throwing nearly ever potential trigger into the book.

I never even ended up watching the erotic film that inspired the story. Hell, it didn’t even get made. It just stayed a trailer.

This book sits so close to home, literally and figuratively. It’s set in Southern Illinois, aka the place I’ve lived my entire life. I took some liberties with town names and distances between them, but ya know…creative license and all that.

It’s also deeply emotional. So many of my own experiences have gone into this one. Of course, the experiences were changed to fit the story, some exaggerated, some downplayed with the burden split across multiple characters. And some things were just experiences I dealt with secondhand during my internship days getting my bachelor’s degree in psychology.

Regardless, a lot went into this novel.

There were a lot of teary-eyed typing sessions. Some all-out blubbering. Sometimes over sad things and sometimes over sweet, touching scenes.

Some of the dialogue is pulled from real life to give the characters that extra bit of realism.

I’d even been getting into survival stuff a little heavier just before I wrote it. Over the course of about six months leading up to it, I took up archery, learned to clean fish, bought a pistol (.45 baby desert eagle…Chloe happens to prefer a .45 in the story), and brushed up on shooting. I put together bug-out bags and jumped into (very, very mild) prepping.

And then, I got the idea for this post-apocalyptic novel, and I realized most of my research was done.

As I said, sooooooo much went into this one.

If you want to learn more about the characters, check out the #WorldForTheBrokenWednesday on Instagram for all my character profiles and several excerpts from the story.

Preorders are still available everywhere until midnight, at which point you can just straight up buy this motherfucker.

Check it out on amazon at: mybook.to/WorldForTheBroken

I’ve got one hell of a blog tour lineup coming, with some chances to win free books (signed hardbacks!) and custom book swag.

Follow me on social media or subscribe right here for all the updates on the giveaways and tour information. (Links down below)

Keep reading. Keep writing. (And keep your eyes peeled. You never know where inspiration will come from.)

Later.

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World for the Broken: First chapter reveal

Hi, guys!

It’s so close to release day! Just 13 days… An unlucky day for a chapter reveal? Or perfect considering the terrible luck these characters have?

Either way, I won’t keep you waiting. Here’s the first chapter of my dark post-apocalyptic romance, World for the Broken. (Reader discretion advised. This book might hurt.)

Chapter 1

Christian

Snow crunches beneath feet, not far from my aching head. Dazed, I wonder how I could have let someone get so close. I try to lift my face from winter’s blanket, but the world threatens to fall out from under me with even the slightest movement. Head pounding, I struggle to center myself. Holding as still as humanly possible, I strain my ears to pick out the size of my newest friends.

A trickle of warmth slips through my hair, dripping over my scalp and down my forehead. It’s almost pleasant, except for the little voice in the back of my mind telling me that it shouldn’t be there. As if for emphasis, a cold wind sweeps over my back, the only part of me visible above the snow. Warmth has no place here.

I remember how to open my eyes, lifting my head as I do so, and see red swirling before my gaze. The ground tilts and whirls, mixing melting snow and blood in psychedelic patterns. I slam my eyes shut once more, letting my head fall to the ground. My face splashes in the watered-down blood.

My blood.

Another foot breaches the snow with a crunch. The danger that I’m in screams back into focus, so loudly my skull aches with it. Or maybe that’s just the head wound talking.

Fucking get it together, Christian.

I growl inwardly, but I’m excited that I can piece even that together amidst the agony bursting across my scalp.

Are these more of The Wolf’s men, come to finish the job?

Then, it all comes back to me, hitting like a ton of bricks. Tate, Jesse, Karen…Are they safe? I don’t know, don’t remember much, and that scares me.

We’d been on the run, having escaped Breyerville two and a half days ago with The Wolf’s Fangs dogging our heels every second. Poor Tate, just four years old, was terrified to fall asleep, as were we all. He’d only done so to the tune of Karen’s voice, singing a soft lullaby, nearly whispering through choking fear.

What if The Fangs were close? What if they heard her song?

What if they found us?

Then, the blizzard hit and made our tracks impossible to miss. The Fangs found us within a day of the first flakes falling. The scene bursts across my eyelids, like some horrible version of the instant replay used in sporting events back before the war.

We’d just stopped so Tate could go to the bathroom, which took an unfortunate amount of time given the layers the poor kid was wearing, and we were about to set off again. Not that we really knew where we were going.

Just…away.

Away from Breyerville and the brothel Karen was forced into. Away from The Wolf and his cronies, demanding payment and tribute from all locked within his stupid walls. The walls we all helped him build, back when he seemed like a decent human being, someone we could trust to help lead us through the end of the world.

Funny thing about the apocalypse, that. It brings out what’s hiding underneath the surface. Given time and power, The Wolf revealed his true nature, evil incarnate.

The Fangs found us unaware. Karen and Jesse had been arguing again, with Jesse lobbing some new unfair accusation at his poor wife. I’d been a little worried, thinking I may have to step in again and…calm my brother down.

Tate clung to his mother, burying his face in her legs. Her hands covered his ears, trying to spare him the worst of the argument, even as he shielded his eyes with tiny hands.

We heard the gun go off, loud and close. Instinctively, instantly, I ducked. A habit I wish I hadn’t had the opportunity, or the need, to cultivate. Another crack and a bullet meant for me sailed over my head.

A third shot was attempted, presumably to correct their mistake in thinking I wouldn’t drop to the ground. But the hammer fell, and the gun merely clicked. Empty. Luckily, they haven’t figured out how to reload their own ammo.

Before my eyes, my little brother fell. With a small hole in his forehead, blood trickling from it, Jesse landed in a crumpled heap. Thankfully, he was facing the sky. I’d rather Tate remember his father’s dead eyes than the state the back of his skull must have been in.

Four Fangs rushed us, giving me no chance to mourn.

One ripped Tate from Karen’s grasp and threw the kicking, screaming little boy into the snow. Heart racing, all thought gone from my mind, I threw myself upon The Fang whose boot hung in the air, poised above Tate’s head, and we went flying into a snowdrift.

I righted myself first, climbing atop the man, and pummeled him with everything in me. Rage filled me and boiled over. I remember the blood splattering across my face, some my own as my knuckles tore open a bit more with each hit, but mostly from The Fang, a dirty looking man with five o’clock shadow on his entire head. His hood fell back, and the scarf that covered half his face was soggy with blood.

Below each eye, the tattoos of fangs marked him as a bona fide member of The Wolf’s Fangs. The quality of the first tattoos meant he’d been a member for a while. Since before they ran out of traditional ink a year and a half ago and had to start making their own. Since before the legitimate tattoo gun broke a year ago, and they had to do it the old-fashioned way. He’d been a Fang for at least a year and a half. Maybe longer.

The number of fangs tattooed beneath his eyes, rimming the socket, denoted how many times this particular Fang had bitten for his master. Four beneath one eye, and five under the other. Nine times, he’d killed for The Wolf.

Another Fang followed, crushing snow beneath sprinting feet, leaving the other two struggling to contain Karen’s fury, all 5’4” of it. They shouldn’t have separated mother and child. Swearing and screaming and flesh-hitting-flesh rang out behind me, with Tate crying in the snow not far off to the right.

“Stay there, Tate!” I screamed, sending another fist into the face of the man who would have killed my nephew.

Anger almost got the best of me, and I momentarily lost track of the assailant approaching me at full tilt. As the Fang beneath me faded, head lolling to the side in death, I sprang to my feet. I spun, just in time for another Fang to barrel into me, a palmed blade ready to sink into my flesh.

Back down into the drift I went, and this time, I didn’t come out on top. The Fang hadn’t expected me to turn, so his blade merely gashed my side, rather than digging in. Unbelievable luck.

Twisted up in the cloth of my jacket, the spin also jerked the knife from my assailant, sending it flying off somewhere. A miracle.

But that’s where the good news ended.

With something clenched tightly in his fist, packing it for rigidity, The Fang landed a solid blow, unfortunately, located squarely on my temple thanks to the awkward way we landed.

I nearly passed out then and there, retaining only enough consciousness to hear Karen scream out, “Stop! I’ll go with you if you just stop! Leave my baby alone!” Tears choked her voice, but it carried, nonetheless. All motion stopped, even the man sitting atop my chest stilled, unafraid of his seriously dazed victim.

“Please,” Karen begged. “Please, just…we won’t cause any more problems. Just…don’t hurt him.” I heard her slump to her knees, heard the rustle of fabric, and Tate’s whimpering as she pulled him to her breast.

I saw the grizzled Fang standing behind her spit into the snow, mostly blood. Bright red gashes lined his face, leaking openly. He jerked his chin up at the man on top of me, and my chest got lighter as The Fang heaved himself onto his feet.

Karen’s hands clutched at her son, pressing him tightly against her. Her pale face was rosy with the cold, and her long, black hair tumbled in a tangled heap, spilling free from the hood of her jacket, partially concealing Tate from view. Between her hair and his too-big jacket, I couldn’t see the boy’s face.

Rather than walking away, my assailant turned toward me. With black eyes rimmed with seven fangs and a cruel smile lurking beneath them, he pulled his foot back and slammed it into the left side of my head.

I remember the pain, arcing through every synapse, filling every cell of my body. I remember curling onto my side, watching through eyes barely open, clouded with the blood that dripped into them, as Karen and Tate were led away, sobbing. All our packs were gathered up and taken, as well.

Now, lying broken in the snow, the reality of their absence wallops me, leaving me breathless and gasping.

They’re gone. All three of them. Jesse is dead. Karen and Tate…who knows. Will they kill Tate? Or use him against Karen to keep her pliable?

Disgust burns within me at the thought, simmering beneath the icy hands of agony as they steadily rip my heart to shreds.

And what of me?

I’d been so sure I would die, even as I slumped sideways, rolling onto my stomach. The snow fell around me, sapping the warmth from my body. When darkness took me, I thought it the end.

But now, shockingly gentle hands roll me over, and the ground tips beneath me. Stomach roiling, I worry I may vomit, but manage to hold myself together. Barely. My eyelids flutter, stars exploding in my vision.

A shadow takes form, just beyond the starbursts. A woman.

Brilliant red hair tumbles forward, hanging in loose waves just above my face. A gloved hand pulls the scarf down from her nose and full mouth, revealing pale cheeks flushed with cold. Meanwhile, surprise registers in her shining emerald eyes. Turning her head to the side, she speaks in a voice that sounds a hell of a lot like salvation. “He’s alive.”

She leans forward, no doubt getting her pretty hair dirty with the blood that coats my face as the delicate strands brush my skin.

“Can you hear me?” she asks, very gently.

I nod. Sort of. The motion upsets my already spinning equilibrium even more, and my eyes fall shut, robbing me of the sight of her.

“Please,” I murmur.

But what could I ask? Please save them? Please help me?

She owes me nothing. She and her companions will likely take whatever they can from me, from Jesse’s corpse, from the body of the Fang that I killed. They’ll desert me, likely take the shirt from my back.

Why wouldn’t they?

Before I can ask her anything, the darkness claims me again.

*****

I am so excited to finally share this with you all, and to get this book out. It sits so close to home, literally and figuratively. It’s set in Southern Illinois, aka the place I’ve lived my entire life. I took some liberties with town names and distances between them, but ya know…creative license and all that.

It’s also deeply emotional. So many of my own experiences have gone into this one. Of course, the experiences were changed to fit the story, some exaggerated, some downplayed with the burden split across multiple characters. And some things were just experiences I dealt with secondhand during my internship days getting my bachelor’s degree in psychology.

Regardless, a lot went into this novel, and I’m pumped to share it with you.

If you haven’t preordered your copy yet, all the purchase links are down below.

Keep reading. Keep writing.

Later.

Amazon: http://mybook.to/WorldForTheBroken

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/world-for-the-broken-elexis-bell/1136379380?ean=9781951335069

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/world-for-the-broken

Booksamillion: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/World-Broken/Elexis-Bell/9781951335076?id=7678409965374

All my books: http://www.amazon.com/author/elexis_bell http://www.elexisbell.com/my-published-works/

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Book Research: Sometimes Google isn’t enough

Hi, guys!

We all know writing requires research, sometimes into unexpected subjects. I never thought my writing would require calculating space travel times and learning how bears show affection.

But here we are.

But there are things we need to research that can’t be found in a half an hour on Google.

Over the years, I’ve indulged quite a few hobbies. I’ve always been that person who got interested in what her friends were interested in. I never had my own thing (didn’t have the guts to) until recently. I’ve been writing creatively for over a decade and a half, but only recently did I begin to take it seriously.

And now, I’m grateful for all those other hobbies and still intend to collect a few more.

Because some things just need to be experienced firsthand.

For instance, before I ever picked up a bow, I assumed that the arm pulling back on the bowstring would get tired first. Nope. The other one does. It still has the tension of the bow being drawn, plus it’s holding the weight of the bow straight out from your body. Under tension.

Before ever setting foot into a garage, I never thought about the unbelievable strain working on a lowered car puts on your back. It’s much more comfortable to just plant your feet real fuckin’ wide and bring yourself down low enough to lean on the fender (with a microfiber cloth between you and the car…You don’t want to scratch the paint, you monster.)

Before I cleaned a fish for the first time, I assumed breaking a neck would be a simple trick of leverage. *shakes head* Nope. I’m pretty strong, and I struggled, hard.

Now, I do have a thin layer of insulation (thank you soda and candy) but I have trouble finding non-sweatshirt material jackets that fit me because my fucking arms are too big for women’s jackets. But I still had to hand that fish off to someone stronger and more experienced. I did clean it afterward, though, and it wasn’t as bad as I expected.

Before getting into manual labor, I never truly knew the meaning of “farm strong,” because yes, it’s a fucking thing. Outdoorsy, hunting/fishing/farming types are probably pretty fucking strong, even if they have a belly from home-cooked goodies and beer. Because they have to be.

And while we’re at it, factories do not work the way you think. In theory, they should be streamlined and clean and smooth running, but they’re run for profit. Anything that doesn’t absolutely have to be fixed, won’t be.

Running a machine with a broken or malfunctioning part means that other parts have to be made to function in ways they aren’t meant to in order to pick up the slack. Which causes a domino effect of quirks and other malfunctions, and gives each machine their own unique “personalities.”

Before getting into video games, I didn’t realize Console vs. PC is a thing in the gaming world, with a lot of elitism involved. I also never realized that pre-built, store-bought gaming computers are never going to be as good as what can be built by the gamers themselves. So they build them, upgrading parts every so often or just building from scratch every few years.

To anyone who isn’t tech savvy (i.e. me), 3d printers can seem like magic. And just like magic, there are so many ways it can go wrong. Machinery malfunctions and improperly heated beds, errors or missing chunks in G-code, prints not sticking to the bed, filament breakage or clogging…The list goes on.

Drawing can be unbelievably messy if you’re using charcoal. And believe it or not, drawing a naked model in a room full of people…not awkward and certainly not sexual.

My point is, these aren’t things I learned from Google. These are things that came from personal experience.

They’re little quirks of doing something that aren’t strictly necessary in a generic how-to guide, but they make the experience human.

You don’t have to be an expert at everything your characters do. But maybe give their interests a shot.

(The legal ones, anyway. I don’t need any lawyers coming for me saying I encouraged their clients to try whatever they did.)

At the very least, ask someone who does those things. There are tons of real people in writing groups online, and stuff like this is where the massive Facebook groups, like Fiction Writing, really shine.

That’s where I learned that cremations of obese people can result in grease fires that get the fire department called over the amount of smoke. The former mortician answering questions in the group noted a preference to cremate larger people at night, for that reason.

So don’t spend every second of your life hunched over your keyboard. You need to experience things in order to write the little details that make your characters more realistic.

You need to live and be a well-rounded human being in order to write characters that seem real and well-rounded.

So get out there and try a new hobby. Your characters (and your readers) will thank you for it.

Now, if you haven’t noticed, we’re getting closer and closer to the release of World for the Broken. April 21st is just around the corner, barely over two weeks away.

If you haven’t preordered, you totally should. (You can do so here: mybook.to/WorldForTheBroken )

I’ll be posting a special blog this Wednesday containing the ENTIRE first chapter. So, if you want a sneak peek before you order your copy or if you’ve already ordered and want to read a bit ahead of time, you’ll get your chance in a couple of days.

Keep reading. Keep writing.

Later.

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Symphony of Dragons

Hi, guys!

So, we all know music is awesome, and lots of writers like to listen to music when they write or edit. It isn’t exactly rare for songs to inspire stories or complete novels.

I’m certainly not an exception to these rules/happenings.

One of my short stories (Vivification, currently on submission for an anthology) was inspired by a song by Phaeleh. The Regonia Chronicles was inspired by a conversation with my husband and the song “Turtle Ship” by Ghasper. “Various Storms and Saints” by Florence and the Machine inspired the rewrite of Salt and Silver (soon to go into another round of edits, then be sent to beta readers).

Not to mention the new story idea I got a couple days ago, thanks to a song called “BFF” by Leah Kate, not that I know when I’ll get to actually write that one. Lol. Too many irons in the fire.

Anyway…

I almost always have music on when I write. Each story gets its own playlist, full of songs handpicked from the 100+ gb of music on my phone. (I’m one of those people that gets every single penny (and then some) of the monthly subscription for Google play music. Lol.)

I hop genres often, typically just putting stuff on shuffle, and seeing what comes up. There’s just too much music out there to limit yourself to one or two genres.

Plus, you never know what genre will resonate with a character or a scene. Some of my characters like blues metal, and others prefer electronic. Some like classical, others like grungy folk.

And sometimes you stumble across a song that just fits a certain ambiance. I have a playlist on my phone comprised of songs that are perfect for a 90’s vampire nightclub. The beats are slower than your average club song, more trance-inducing and sensual than beat-your-brains-out-with-your-eardrums. The vocals are almost…bored. Like, if the singer could be somewhere else, they would be. But they have to be there, so they may as well do the song. And there’s just enough of an industrial feel to make it seem a little dangerous, because, lets face it, vampires were more dangerous back then. Lol.

(I have a scene in my head for that playlist, and eventually I’ll write it, but that’s a journey for another day.)

Sometimes, thanks to my OCD and the luck of finding the perfect song, I put a single song on repeat for the duration of a scene. Whether it takes me thirty minutes to write it or an hour and a half, it doesn’t matter. Then, every time I hear the song, I’m taken right back to that book, that scene.

And I love that.

So, today, I thought I’d share my playlist for Soul Bearer with you all. Not all of them seem fitting for a fantasy romance, but each one fits a character or a scene.

And each song comes with my wholehearted recommendation that you listen to it, because, well, they’re all awesome. Lol.

First and foremost, my MCs’ songs:

Aurisye’s theme song, of sorts, is “Gold” by SHELLS. She’s always felt kind of…out of place. Showing her true colors has never really worked out for her, and she wants to just be seen as normal. More than that, she wants to be loved.

Rafnor’s theme is “Simple” by The Moth and The Flame. Rafnor wants a simple life. He wants a wife who loves him and a huge family. But, getting a simple life is difficult with the return of…dun dun dun…dragons. Lmao.

The rest of these are in the order that I found them, and thought, “This would be perfect for Soul Bearer!”

“Say it” by Blue October

“Tell me lies” by Deorro (feat. Lesley Roy)…Btw, her voice sounds like the vocal equivalent of a pan flute. Just saying.

“100 years” by Serj Tankian (feat. a lot of people with really long names, and lets be honest here, its 2:00am and I’m tired. Lol. By the way, this one is perfect for scenes showcasing utter devastation.)

“Lover, Please Stay” (Live) by Nothing But Thieves

“Outside” (Explicit) by The Weeknd (I told you not all of them seemed appropriate for the genre. Lol. But it fit a scene, very well.)

“Fingertips” by OneRepublic

“Hear Me” by Kelly Clarkson

“Should be Higher” by Depeche Mode

“Shiva” (Live at La Finca Venado Volando) by The Human Experience

“Another Word for Beautiful” by Sundara Karma

“Cherry” by Lana Del Rey

“Notions” by Lovedrug

“Light” by Sleeping At Last

“Kettering” by The Antlers (This one is good for romance scenes, and leads very well into the next one…)

“Wolf Like Howls from the Bathhouse” by Sonny Smith (Excellent for scenes of sexual tension.)

“Nothing” by Vessbroz (feat. Kyle Davis)

“Can You Hold Me” by NF (feat. Britt Nicole) (The scene this one is associated with…Oh my god…I cried when I wrote it, and every time I edited it. Lol. Good luck, guys.)

“Clouds” by BØRNS

“You’re Special” by NF

“Do You Feel It?” by Chaos Chaos

“Round” by The Moth and The Flame

“The Flood” by Cyrus Reynolds and Gregg Lehrman (There’s a drop in this one that is amazing.)

“Synthetic Love” by Sarah Jaffe (This one is also in my Regonia playlist, and is very strongly associated with a scene in the first book.)

“Lux” by Cyrus Reynolds and Gregg Lehrman

“Can You Feel My Heart” by Bring Me The Horizon

“My Neighborhood” by Lovedrug

“You’ll Be Fine” by Alex Clare

“Angel” by Tokio Meyers (Breathtaking song.)

“The Warden” by Chelsea Wolfe (Perfect for magic/casting scenes)

“Running For Your Life” by UNSECRET

“Nobody Else Will Be There” by The National (Another good one for romantic tension.)

“Sour Breath” by The Devil Wears Prada

“Riverside” by Agnes Obel

“Archibald MacDonald of Keppoch” by Alasdair Fraser
(This one…oh my god…the scene it goes with…it hurts.)

“Healing” (Original mix) by Phaeleh

“Burn the Witch” by Shawn James

“A Different Time” by Phaeleh

“Víðbláinn” by Peter Gundry

“Can’t Help Falling in Love” (DARK) By Tommee Proffitt (feat. brooke) (Super intense build up, good for gathering courage and slaying dragons…)

“Onward and Upward” by Tommee Proffitt (feat. Fleurie) (Another excellent build up song. Think fire and smoke everywhere, with the roars of a massive beast vibrating your chest as you run, sword aloft, into battle…)

“Finale” by Michael Abels

Whether you’re excited for Soul Bearer (which I hope you are) or whether you just want music recommendations, this is a pretty good list, in my opinion.

Update time! I got all my formatting done this week! It was a mind-numbing, infuriating, blur of tedium, and I’m not quite looking forward to doing that again. Lol.

Now, I’m on to copyright stuff and ISBNs and uploading and swag and proof copies and ARC readers. But first, I’m beta reading a friend’s novel.

For the time being, though, I think I’m going to sign off.

Keep reading. Keep writing.

Happy listening.

Later.

Note…I don’t have rights to these songs, and I’m not being paid by them or Google play (though wouldn’t that be nice?) to promote them. I just really like music. Lol.