Soul Inferno’s Synopsis (WARNING: Spoilers if you haven’t read my other two books)

Soul Inferno finally has its synopsis. Next up, a cover!

War threatens the country. With King Phoenix taking control of the North, Sky heads to the Tsalskinese Empire to treat with the Emperor, hoping to gain his support in the coming conflict.

Can Sky negotiate her way through the long standing prejudice against her country and prove herself worthy of the Emperor’s assistance? New aspects of her power and a mysterious Pirate Queen are just a few of the obstacles standing in the way of an alliance.

But little does she know, betrayal is only a whisper away…

As both the North and the South clash in fiery warfare, Sky has to make the ultimate choice to ensure the reincarnation cycle is broken for good…

Even if it means saying goodbye.

Favourite Reads of 2014

So another year is spiralling to a close... I could've sworn we'd just partied it in, but apparently a year has gone past or something.
This year I published Soul Blaze (the Soul Trilogy #2), ended up on television, got fired for the first time in my life because I wouldn't take corporate bullshit and completed NaNoWriMo for the third year in a row.
But I also read quite a few books (didn't make my Goodreads challenge though, darn!) and would like to present my two favourite reads, both trad published and indie.

My favourite (traditionally published) book this year was A Thousand Pieces of You by Claudia Gray. An exquisite book that I waited a year for did not disappoint and I highly recommend. Below is my review as can be found on Goodreads. To see the spoilers, click the link to read my review at Goodreads.

5 STARS! (funnily enough I just typoed that and wrote tsars... people who've read the book will get it). Five big fat yellow stars.

This is the next level of Claudia Gray's writing. This is it, she's stepped it up, raised the bar. Anything she writes from now on I'm going to be pre-ordering and practically tearing from her typewriter (I was like this anyway, but after A Thousand Pieces of You, even more so). I am now going to attempt to break down my ramblings into small conscise sections (watch how quickly this idea deteriorates).
The Cover
I know I've prattled on about the cover to anyone who will listen. But seriously, after reading the book, I am even more impressed at the designer of it. The cover is stunning, glorious, eye-catching and everything you want in a book cover. But it's also more than that. The two cities mirrored in each other and the splash of watercolour behind it relates directly to the story! I really shouldn't be this amazed at the concept, but after having to design my own covers, I know what it's like trying to keep relevance to the book whilst also making it as beautiful as possible. I applaud the cover designer 1000x over for achieving this masterpiece.
Characters
Theo, Marguerite and Paul are our main three. Then we have smaller, minor characters that I don't think I could list so I won't try. Marguerite got a little annoying in place, but it tied in with how her character was portrayed so I won't remove any points from that. Theo was always slightly (view spoiler) and Paul was always steadfast and stoic. I can't really say too much about them without giving away the story, as it is very character based.
Plot
I was well onboard with the plot until the end, where it got a tad confusing but that could've been due to finishing my NaNo just before beginning to read the last third of the book. It was sufficiently eerie at the end of the book, characters behaved just the way I wanted them to. Marguerite had certainly grown throughout the book, as evidenced by two defining actions at the end (view spoiler).
I could say a lot more, but I'm going to leave it with saying that I cannot wait for the second in this series. Highly recommend to all readers.
And one last thing:
(view spoiler)
Well, time to start waiting for the next book.

The title of my favourite independent book has to go to Water by Heather James. Number 2 in the Elements of Power Trilogy, I read this book in a few days and became way too emotionally invested in it. However, as it is the second in a series and the review contains mild spoilers, I'll post my review of Fire (#1) instead.

Fire by Heather James is an enjoyable fantasy that follows the stories of Roxy, a fiery Helian Protector, and Jasmine, the girl who doesn't quite belong.

I really liked this book. I loved Roxy's chapters, watching as she was brought in on the scheme that follows the Helian pattern of generally just being nasty to the other nations. It's not often that we get a point of view from the antagonists, and Roxy was such a convincing character that I was really unsure of how this was going to end up.
Jasmine and Brae have been friends for a long time; so when Brae announces his intention to travel to the Helian realm for the 'conference', Jasmine immediately worries. After a few disturbing dreams and some unusual developments of her own character, Jasmine sails herself to the Helian realm to save her friend.
The characters in this book were so defined that even if they didn't have their names above their chapters, you could still tell who was narrating, and I find that to be an exceptional thing. Too often characters sound like sock puppets and to read a book that finally bucked that trend was extremely refreshing.
During the second half of the book, I was surprised at how much I felt for a certain development on Roxy's behalf. I did not see it coming and I cannot explain how grateful I am that I was completely blindsided by this. I love when the author takes me completely unawares; it's part of the reason I read!! This is certainly one development that I can't wait to see in the sequel, Water.
Jasmine's ... unique... development was also very well executed. I figured it out about three quarters of the way through the book and had to put down my phone and go 'ohhhhhhh' because it made perfect sense and yet I didn't see it coming at all!
Recommend those who love surprising novels and the elements.
~

There are so many books I'm looking forward to next year, and I'll be posting those later. I'd love to know what books you enjoyed this year and also what you're looking forward to! I highly recommend the books I posted above and hope you'll take the time to check them out.

Also, Merry Christmas! (a day late but that's what I do).

The Power of Reviews… and not just for books

Today I had to go and get new tyres for my daily drive and my weekender (a 1979 Gemini coupe if anyone's wondering). I poddled down to my local tyre-shop (where I haven't been before) and checked in, unsure of how long the process was going to be. They estimated about an hour, but I didn't want to walk home because it's quite warm (and honestly, I waddle so slowly I'd get home then have to turn around to come back anyway) so I sat in their waiting room instead. It was an extremely comfortable room, with two leather sofas so soft I could've easily gone to sleep, a TV, a coffee machine and a table piled high with books and magazines.



So I got stuck into a book called A Quick Guide to Supercars and promptly learnt more about the Dodge Charger and Ferrari Dino than I previously knew. Almost exactly an hour later, the receptionist came and fetched me from my couch, I paid for my tyres and I left. They'd even positioned my car so I didn't have to reverse out! I just got in a drove off. It was an extremely pleasant and stress-less experience.
As soon as I got home, I jumped on Google and wrote them a 5-star review. Then I sat back and enjoyed the warm glowy feeling of discovering a great place of business and adding my fingerprint of approval for any others in my area looking for a tyre shop. It got me thinking.
There is so much power through reviews and recommendations. For example, without Goodreads or Amazon, it would be a lot harder for smaller authors to get noticed. It's only been recently that the power of reviewing has been wrested from the clutches of big newspaper columnists and handed to the everyday reader instead. Now, we have multiple opinions on a singular product, making it easier to get the full picture. I myself have several reviewers on Goodreads that I swear by. A good review by them can prompt me to buy the Kindle version immediately. That is the power of public opinion.
But it's not only books. The other night, the boyfriend and I were looking for a place to get Chinese take-out in our area, having only lived here for a little while. We'd been eyeing a restaurant up the road from us, but upon finding a nasty review about unhelpful staff and costly food, we were prompted to look elsewhere. We ended up getting takeaway from a little non-descript shop a couple of kilometres away, and while the place wasn't much to look at, the food was incredible. Hello Mongolian Lamb! We'll be going back to that little business.
As a self-published author, reviews can make or break me. I proudly share all reviews, but I know that a bad review in the right place could take me off a lot of people's to-read list, which would be devastating for my career. I never ever want to discourage people from sharing their honest opinion, however, as honesty is a trait I hold most dear. I would rather a one-star review that makes me a little sad than a bald-faced lie of a five star review.
This has been a weird rant, and I'm sorry that it doesn't seem to follow any structure at all. Lately I've been thinking about the power of reviews and it struck me that, whilst my livelihood is concentrated on reviews of my book, other businesses and careers operate under the same umbrella.
I'm interested to know your opinions about public reviews. Would you rather read five unpaid for, unbiased reviews from the public, or do you swear by a newspaper's reviewing column?

NaNoWriMo Thoughts

Backdated post: November 25th 2014

Normal person: Hey would you like a coffee?
Guest 1: Sure!
NaNoWrimer: coffee
Guest 2: Sure!
Normal person gets out two mugs
NaNoWrimer gets out one
Guest 2: Oh, you’re not having one?
NaNoWrimer: *barely spares a glance at Guest 2* *spoonful of coffee grains into mug and hot water* *hot water into coffee jar*

Normal person: So how’re things? Tell me all the goss.
NaNoWrimer: why are you here, in 1600 words, which is roughly the amount of words I’m not writing because you’re here
Guest 2: Well, *sigh* I have this 300 word essay that I need to write for uni, and it’s like, super hard-
NaNoWrimer: get out

Normal person’s daily thoughts
She totally doesn’t like me, that stare says it all really, what a bitch. I only called her a slag, like, once. Urgh, gotta get this assignment in in the next two months. Should I do laundry when I get home, or watch How I Met Your Mother? Both sounds good, I mean, I have all the time in the world lololololol.

NaNoWrimer’s daily thoughts
I can’t kill her, who will bear the prince’s heirs? Should I have a dragon kill her? OMG THE DRAGON BEARS THE PRINCE’S HEIRS. Genius.
I need sleep. I need coffee.
Someone help me.

Their Opinion Is Not Up For Debate

Backdated post: October 19th 2014


Like many people in my community, I use Goodreads as the main pinnacle of my marketing plan. It’s where I check first for new reviews, messages, ratings and comments. I also use it for my personal reading record and am proud of the (over) 400 books I’ve read and rated on there.
I have been a member of the Goodreads community for four years now, and began my writing career in the ‘creative writing’ section. Whilst I wasn’t big on reviews, I have written some in my time on the site.
I have witnessed the rise of a phenomena that I am in utter disbelief exists; the practice of an author finding those reviewing his/her book badly and interracting with the reviewer. This usually involves shit fights that I haven’t seen anywhere else except high school. And for the first time since joining Goodreads and seeing this come up AGAIN in my newsfeed, I am a (self) published author who has now been on both ends of the stick.
And as an author, it sickens me to see the stalking and harassment of those who dared give a book a bad review. I know, it sucks; you bared a piece of your soul and someone did a Nelson at it:

But you know what? Life goes on! Put on your big author panties and get over it. Accept that you cannot please over ten million Goodreads members and move on. Take the review with a grain of salt and whatever constructive critiscm you glean from their words and close the tab. Watch some YouTube. Make a cup of tea. Begin a whole new book and remember the thrill of writing again.
Because, honey, if you’re writing to please others, you’re doing it wrong.
I myself have had the one star blues. I know the vortex of ‘why?’ that engulfs you after finding it. Why didn’t someone enjoy my book? A lot of other people did. And I also know that all the good reviews and ratings will pale in comparison with that one star but it doesn’t mean that you’re shit. It just means that someone wasn’t on the same wavelength as you or your novel. It happens.
How the shit does that give you the right to stalk and harass someone? Are you kidding me? How old are you? Is the stalking okay because it’s only done over the Internet? Does that make it okay to send harassing PM’s?
NO.
Holy shit.
Have a good long hard look at yourself and reasses why you’re in this business. You are a writer. This means you are open for critiscm. If you don’t want to be, don’t publish. Seriously, that’s it. That’s the answer. So stop being surprised when you publish your baby and someone doesn’t like/get it. And deer god, STOP HARASSING THOSE WHO DARE TO HAVE AN ALTERNATE OPINION TO YOURS.
It is not up for discussion.

First Chapter of my Current WIP

Backdated post: September 29th 2014

So whilst I’m plucking away at Soul Inferno and the action is beginning to heat up (hehe) over there, like most writers I know, I have a guilty pleasure Work-In-Progress. I often find myself sneaking in a thousand words here or there before work or on the weekend. And while I’m almost instantly filled with guilt about writing something other than SI, I can’t help but read back over what I’ve done with a huge idiotic grin on my face. I am really loving this manuscript, but never fear, Soul Inferno is definitely on track for its release next year.
So to alleviate some of the guilt I’m feeling, I thought I’d share the first chapter of what I’ve been working on. Ink is the tentative title of my 1940’s fantasy, which includes secret societies, monsters and murder amongst other things. Please let me know (honestly!) what you think:
                                                                                                                                                   
A burning ember landed on her shoulder, and for a moment, she didn’t notice.
Calliope Violet, now the sole remaining member of the Violet family, stood and watched her childhood home burn, as her parents turned to ash inside.
“Miss Violet,” one of the firemen had hurriedly brushed the ember from her shoulder and was now tugging at her bare elbow. The mansion had been deemed ‘too dangerous’ for them to even approach, and so they stood and watched with her. “Please, you don’t need to see this-”
She shrugged him off, not hearing. Tears had long ago pooled in her deep blue eyes and run down her cheeks, dripping from her jaw and staining the delicate lace of the party dress she still wore. She had expected a lecture on returning home late, from a party she wasn’t supposed to attend.
She hadn’t expected the inferno.
As the top floor of the mansion collapsed in on itself with a roar of smoke and embers, she turned away. She had never been strong, and too much strength was required to watch on anymore. She wrapped her arms around her torso and cried in earnest, feeling the prickling of cold rain on her shoulders.
As someone hurried her into an ambulance, which had been sitting uselessly after it became clear that her parents wouldn’t be emerging from their mansion, Calliope felt her heart break, ripping open in her chest. Crying seemed too trivial to express the pain, and so she huddled in a shaking mass as the ache in her chest destroyed her from the inside out. Dimly, she was aware of driving through the streets of the city. They were taking her to the hospital, as though surgeons existed who could fix her broken heart.
She let them take her to the emergency ward, allowed the nurses to fuss over her and wrap an unnecessary blanket around her shoulders. Eventually they conceded that she was, physically, in perfect health. They released her as a new dawn broke over the city.
They called her a cab and Calliope stepped into the unfamiliar black car, wondering what had happened to her parents’ town cars and their staff of twenty. Maybe they had burned along with her parents. The thought clattered against her mind but she had sealed her conscience against anything hurtful.
When the cab driver asked for an address, she rattled off the address for her parents’ city mansion, located within the heart of the metropolis. The cab driver, seemingly unfazed by the quiet teen still clad in a gaudy party dress and wrapped in a hospital blanket, pulled away from the curb quietly. Calliope watched the city slide by the taxi’s windows. The Violet mansion, on her parents’ estate, would be a smouldering pile of ash and embers by now. Would there be firemen or looters picking over the burnt remains of her home?
The cab pulled up out the front of her secondary home. Without looking back at the driver, Calliope stepped out of the car and closed the door delicately behind her. When the cab drove away from the curb without delay, she assumed no payment was in order.
Three stories tall, the Violet city mansion was made of a dark stone, and darker roof tiles. Vines crept up the walls, something she’d thought charming and quaint only a few weeks before, but now seemed threatening and cloying. Picking her way along the stone path to the front door, Calliope fished in her clutch for the front door key and let herself in.
Silence greeted her. The plush maroon carpet seemed the exact shade of blood, whilst the cream walls matched the hue of a corpse. How had she once found this place warm and jovial?
A tall, purple vase stood alone on a table in the hallway. Calliope approached it and picked it up, running her hands over the glass to admire the smooth sheen of the glassblower’s craftsmanship. Then she turned and hurled the vase at the mirror opposite her.
Both smashed in a cascade of razor sharp fragments. In what was left of the mirror, she could see her face, pale and wan, with large dark shadows under her eyes, a combination of mascara and lack of sleep. Tears had long since streaked the makeup down her face, marring the application she’d spent hours of the previous night perfecting. She couldn’t remember why. Something about a boy? Impressing someone? It seemed so trivial now she couldn’t even begin to contemplate it.
Avoiding the sharp slivers of glass on the carpet, she slowly made her way into the front sitting room. The sun was poking through the curtains, a single ray falling upon the carpet and making the broken shards glitter. With a scowl, Calliope drew the curtains tight across, and the sun was extinguished. The room fell into comfortable darkness and she immediately felt safer somehow.
The sun was still warming the room and she could feel her eyelids beginning to grow heavy. Fighting the urge to sleep, as it felt too unnatural as the sun rose in the sky behind the curtains, she was at a loss as to how to proceed with the day. Or the rest of her life for that matter.
An orphan. The ‘O’ word hit her with almost a physical slap. She sat on the sofa heavily, feeling tears begin to grow and her lip begin to tremble. How could she be expected to carry on her parent’s legacy? She was feeling the weight of responsibility begin to sink in. It was almost a relief when the telephone rang.
She stared at the phone on the wall, wondering who could possibly be calling so early. Were the friends of her parents really so eager to comfort the only surviving Violet? With a feeling of trepidation she lifted the receiver and held it to her ear.
“Hello?” her voice sounded thin and weak, even to her.
“Miss Violet. My name is John Launceston; I’m your parent’s attorney. I do apologize for the hour of my call, but I’m afraid we have some business to discuss that couldn’t wait any longer. Would it be possible for you to come down to my office on Harris Street?”
She wrapped the cord of the phone around her finger unconsciously. Was this man really asking her to worry about her parent’s business ventures on the day after their demise?
“I beg you not to think of me as a monster, Miss Violet.” He did sound truly regretful. “But your parent’s will is quite insistent.”
Her grip tightened around the receiver. How easy it would be to hang up and forget the call entirely, but the weight of responsibility had seized its moment and settled again on her shoulders.
“Your address please.” She said quietly.
Her mother had left a small notepad and pen beneath the phone and she quickly scribbled the address he told her. She hung up before he could utter another word.
Perhaps it would be better to get this business over and done with. She fiddled with the page she’d written upon before tearing it off and crumpling it in her hand. She would go to the attorney’s office and settle her parent’s accounts. That’s what responsible orphans did, wasn’t it?
The note still clenched in her fist, she ascended the stairs to the second floor and then the third. Her bedroom was in the west wing of the house, and obviously hadn’t been touched since her last visit. Pushing painful memories to the back of her mind, she slid out of the party dress and shoved it under her four poster bed where she couldn’t look at it any longer.
There was a burgundy dress suit in her closet. Before, she had almost considered it too mature for her curvy frame; it would make her seem older than her eighteen years. She plucked it from its hanger and stepped into it, then buttoned the jacket that went with it. Finding sensible black heels, she tugged them onto her feet and then set about cleaning the ruined makeup from her face. As she replaced it with a fresher coat, she thought of her parents and what they’d left behind. There was her, to begin with, but also numerous stocks and businesses. All the duties that had once been her parents’ now fell to her, and she would not allow her parents to be shamed through their only child.
So for this outing, she would be brave and she would be stone. She wouldn’t allow herself to mourn until returning to the mansion.
Repeating the mantra in her head, she settled a small pillbox hat on her auburn locks and tugged the netting over her eyes. Wearing the suit and hat felt like armour, and she got the distinct impression she was heading into battle.

~

“Again, please accept my apologies for the hastiness of these proceedings,” John Launceston peered over his glasses at her. “I understand that it was only last night-”
“Mr Launceston, please,” Calliope interrupted quietly. “My parent’s accounts.”
“Of course,” he reached into his desk drawer and removed a large file wrapped in canvas and bound with string. He untied the string and laid the contents of the file on his desk. “Obviously you are the sole recipient of your parents’ residential properties – excuse me, property – their businesses, their shares and all of their wealth. As you have just come of age, you are to do with these as you see fit. I can recommend advisors and the like, as your father did most of the accounting himself and I doubt he, uh, passed it on.”
Calliope didn’t meet his gaze as the lawyer stumbled again. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and continued with the names of several advisors, but she wasn’t listening.
John Launceston was younger than she’d expected, with short brown curls and deep set green eyes. He was dressed smartly in a waistcoat and jacket, and she had spied a long golden chain leading to a pocket watch. As he finished with the list of advisors he looked up at her again, catching her looking at him, but she felt no embarrassment.
“Did you know my parents, Mr Launceston?” she asked.
The young lawyer hesitated.
“Your father came in several times. In fact, I believe he and my father were old friends.”
“He never mentioned him.”
He frowned at her, pausing in the process of gathering documents back together.
“Funny,” he said eventually. “Mine spoke of yours quite a lot.”
The grandfather clock suddenly clunked, before sounding off the midday hour. As each note clanged in the small office, Calliope stood.
“If that is all?” she asked when the clock had finished.
“Yes, I believe it is.” John Launceston answered, and reached into his coat pocket. “Please, take my card and feel free to phone me at any time.”
She accepted the card, slipping it into her jacket pocket and turning to leave.
“Miss Violet?”
She turned back. John was holding the file out to her.
“I don’t want it.” she said immediately.
“Your mother asked me to make sure you got it,” he gestured with the file again, wincing; it was obviously heavy. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
She bit her lower lip, and then held her hand out for it. With the file settled into her arms, she turned and left the office, leaving John Launceston watching her mournfully.
The file rested heavily on her lap during the cab ride back to the mansion. She plucked at the string binding it, wondering if she should burn it, but the thought of flames made her shudder.
It was late afternoon by the time she got back. Alone in the mansion, listening to the ticking of the clock in the living room, she found herself treading the stairs to her father’s study. It seemed the appropriate place for the file.
The large desk that her father had spent many hours at seemed incomplete without his stately form behind it. She had spent many hours in here with her father, reading quietly as he handled the family accounts. As she settled in the leather chair where he’d once sat, she suddenly felt too small for the chair, as if she were a child again. Shaking the feeling, she unwound the string from the file and began to read, her eyes blurring as she realised it was mostly financial jargon. About to abandon the pointless gesture, she noticed the corner of an envelope protruding from the pages. She slid it from the file and held it before her. It was a slim, white envelope sealed with purple wax.
The seal was unbroken.
Why hadn’t John mentioned it to her? It was possible he hadn’t seen it, she had to admit. He didn’t seem the type to hide information from his clients.
With trembling fingers, she broke the wax seal and tugged the letter from the envelope. Unfolding it, she began to read what she recognised immediately as her mother’s handwriting.
My dearest Callie,
If you’re reading this, it means that the worst has befallen us. I am so very sorry, my petal, for leaving you alone in this world.
Her fingers clutched at the paper as though it was her mother’s hand. She bit her bottom lip fiercely as tears threatened to fall onto the letter.
I wish I could send you words of love and comfort, but, my dear, I’m afraid I cannot afford such lies at this time. You will have to be brave, my Callie. You will have to be strong.
Because unfortunately, my love, if you’re reading this letter, it means that your father and I have been murdered.

My Stint On National Television

Backdated post: August 20th 2014


Last Tuesday, I woke up to a Facebook message on my author page. It was a reporter from the ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation), representing a tv show called Behind the News, essentially a kid’s news program. I’ve watched BTN since I was about six years old and they’d wheel the old telly into our classroom at school. We all loved the show.
Now, sixteen years later, I was being asked to appear as a guest author.
Of course I accepted, and two days later found myself at a local high school where we were filming the piece. As well as the ABC crew, there were four girls from the high school, all promising writers. We were filming a mock ‘MasterChef’ segment for a writing masterclass. The girls were absolutely lovely, and once hearing their short story pitches, I understood why they’d been picked for the shoot. I really hope to see more of these girls and their writing gifts one day.
The filming was great fun, however nerve racking. If in the video I look a little in pain, it’s due to the red heels I wore on the day. I have such a love/hate relationship with you, shoes, but next time, I’m wearing my converse.
Below is the clip! I would love to hear what you think of the writing tips I give, and I would love to hear your golden rule of writing!

The Indie Book Stigma

As an author, I am always keeping my eyes open for opportunities to promote myself and my books; it’s one of the things you have to do as a self-published author. No one else is going to do it for you.
And whilst I’ve found many amazing blogs and sites that have helped me (and to whom I am eternally grateful), I’ve found many that start off their review policy with “I will not review self-published or indie books.”
The question I want to ask is, why not? Please note this isn’t an attack on reviewers or bloggers, it’s your site and you can do as you please. I am just honestly curious. I want to know the reason behind it.
If you are a blogger/reviewer who happens across this post (as I assume most of my followers read/write indie books already), please let me know. If you don’t want to post in the comments, please feel free to email me at aprillelegacy(at)gmail(dot)com.
I will not attack or judge you, and I hope you will award me the same courtesy. I would really just like to know what this stigma is.
If you’re an indie author who has come across this as well, I’d like to hear from you. Same deal, comments or email me :)

The Zombie Apocalypse And Why You Think You Want One But You Don’t

Recently, I started a new job in a highrise in my capital city.

As they took us for our first tour around the building, I found myself plotting out certain points that would be handy for a zombie apocalypse, such as ‘this floor has a balcony for growing plants and food’ or ‘you can’t get up this section of the elevator without a swiping card’.

I would like to let it be known that I have just read the Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks, and I must admit, this may be having some influence over my idle thought trains. However, I now have a pact with my training group that some of us have to run to Bunnings and secure what we’ll need to be self-sufficiant on top of a highrise in the event of a zombie apocalypse, so I have that going for me, which is nice.

But it got me thinking. I’ve seen a lot of stuff on 9gag or Facebook about how cool it would be to experience a zombie outbreak. And yeah, it would be.

 

For about a day.

And then you’re all eaten and shit, or so scared you’re useless. I think what you want, my friends, is virtual reality.

For our generation, born and raised on the rise of video games, it becomes difficult for us to lock in the idea of settling down with a 9-5 job, getting married, having kids and a mortgage and then dying off slowly, because that’s what everybody wants us to want. I think this longing for a zombie apocalypse is actually a subconscious desire to escape society’s expectations of us, and to shake up the system a bit.

Which, don’t get me wrong, I totally sympathize with, 110%. I’m your guy if you want to complain about society.

But I just think hoping for the doom and destruction of the human race is a little too much.

But then again… shotguns and stuff.

But then again… running.. and death… hmm

Please come back when I figure this out.

It's cold outside... warm up by winning a copy of Soul Blaze (The Soul Trilogy #2)!

It's cold here in Australia, especially where I live in the beautiful Adelaide hills. There's frost on the grass most mornings and we have the heater on most nights.
What better way to spend winter (or enjoy summer in your hammock on the beach) than curled up with a book?
I'm giving away a paperback copy of my young adult fantasy romance novel, Soul Blaze (The Soul Trilogy #2), hoping to be that token book you choose to read! Enter the Rafflecopter below to win :)

Also, no stress if you haven't read Soul Fire (The Soul Trilogy #1). It's currently priced at 99c on Amazon Kindle:

After a year at the Academy, Rose is sent back to Ar Cena - minus her memory of the past year. As she tries to fit back in to her human life with relative success, her magic returns.

An unsuccessful kidnap attempt by rogue mages of the North sends her back to Lotheria, where she is taken prisoner by the Academy Masters. Confused and manipulated, she bargains a way home with the Masters by guaranteeing the only thing they want from her; the death of Phoenix.

But the Masters are yet to realise what they've truly unleashed...

As Sky's destiny returns to haunt her once again, she realises she can't ignore who she is any longer.



a Rafflecopter giveaway

Spoilers and why the people who post them can sod off

I am a huge Game of Thrones fan. Obviously. Who isn't? I attempted to resist the sensation that caught the world up, but after a few weeks bent the knee and bought the first book.

After reading all of the books, I told myself I didn't want to watch the series. Yuck, there was all kinds of gory things that'd keep me awake. I satisfied myself with Youtubing certain scenes that I was curious as to how they'd interpret.

My partner watched the show religiously, waiting not so patiently for each episode to come out. I caught myself watching out the corner of my eye, telling myself I just wanted to see where the series was up to in relation to the books.

So I've just finished the latest episode, after having watched about 90% of the series in total (only missed a chunk due to someone starting the show and then moving out before I could watch the rest of it with him). And I've noticed a growing trend on articles or Facebook status' posted by the Game of Thrones Facebook page and it's starting to really peev me off.

Some people get their kicks from reading ahead and then posting spoilers everywhere they can. They do this by replying to comments, tagging people in their spoilerish comments and just generally being arseholes. I apologise if the language offends but these fuckers deserve it.

WHAT JOY IS THERE IN SPOILING SOME OF THE BEST ENTERTAINMENT WE'VE BEEN HANDED IN YEARS!?

I saw one yesterday on a status that honestly made me want to PM the spoilerer and tear them a new one. Who do they think they are? Piss off and let them enjoy it. Just because you've read the book, doesn't mean you're entitled to spoil it for everyone enjoying the show.

The people who defend the spoilerers are just as bad if not worse. I will write two open letters to the two types of people in question by the end of this post. I've seen people defend them by saying 'the books have been out for years; it's not a spoiler.'

1) All good and well, but honestly? The books are bricks. They are thick, heavy writing which can turn off a lot of people who would otherwise enjoy it. This is where the TV show comes in. It condenses the content, making it more enjoyable for people who would give up on the books and providing the book reader with an amazing interpretation with incredible actors bringing their characters to life.

2) Are we supposed to try and keep up with every bit of new material that comes out everyday, everywhere? And how much time is supposed to pass before "everyone" is meant to have read it and the spoilers no longer are such? Sorry, bro, but some of us have this little thing called a 'job' or a 'life'.

3) I had another point but I've forgotten it. It'll come back to me. You watch.

Dear Spoilerer,

You suck. You really suck. Who the fuck do you think you are, spoiling this for hardcore fans of the show? Oh you've read the books? BIG DEAL! No one cares, mate, look around. Do you get some kind of kick doing this? Do you feel some kind of power? Oh good, at least you can feel that at some point in your sad little life. Sod off back to where you came from and think about what you did.

Sincerely,
Everyone

P.S Fuck you.

Dear Spoilerer Defender,

You equally suck, if not more so. Your sorry little defense of 'the books have been out for years, it's not a spoiler' does not count. It's shit. Try again, just like you should at life. Actually, I believe you're entitled to a refund on life. I'd go ahead and cash that ASAP. People who spoil shows for shits and giggles should not be defended. They should be ground to a pulp or something.

Sincerely,
Everyone.

P.S Fuck you. With a cactus. No one likes you.


Feel free to use these as templates to anyone you see engaging of the sport I have tentatively titled "Being The Biggest Douche They Can Be."


I apologise if this post is rambly and incoherent. I've just finished work and my brain is scrambled egss.

Mmmm. Scrambled eggs....

But seriously. Fuck you, spoiler people. Crawl back under your rock.

Valar Morghulis (some quicker than others).

My Writing Process - Blog Tour

A few weeks ago, I was tagged to do a writing process blog, but due to circumstances I'm only just doing it now, and trust me I am filled with guilty guilt.

The lovely author who tagged me was no other than Deb E. Howell, who penned the marvelous Healer's Touch, which I read and reviewed last year and thoroughly enjoyed. You can find her musings on her blog and I suggest you go check it out!

First question,
What am I working on?

As Soul Blaze came out in March, I immediately jumped into Soul Inferno after a few days rest. Only three thousand words in, I can feel the finality in each paragraph as things begin to come to a head, and ultimately, the end. I forsee many tears in my future (also I might be a bit sad about writing the end of my trilogy).
When I'm not working on Soul Inferno, I'm brooding over Ruthless, my Victorian Steampunk, which is about to undergo a complete redo, from start to end, on account of it just not working. Ruthless is my longest project, started in October 2011, and I have a very love/hate relationship with it. Maybe one day it'll see the light of day, or maybe it'll stay buried in my writing folder where it can burn.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I'm really not one for floating my own goat, but I will take this opportunity to.
When writing Soul Fire, I became aware that my main character, who was telling me her story, was not your average YA Mary Sue. Rose Evermore AKA Sky is a food-loving, bird-having misfit who only finds her true place when she's taken to Lotheria, a magical alternate reality. She slips up, eats a lot, fails at a lot of things, breaks hearts (including her own) and above all fights her own battles! I will not point fingers in a post where I am floating goats, but I'm a little tired of reading female MC's who merely seem to be on-site narrators and don't do anything. Real heroes don't fight from the sidelines! Sky gets her butt kicked on several occasions, but worst of all in Soul Blaze.
I try to steer away from genre stereotypes, and I'd like to think that I've done so.

Why do I write what I do?

I would like to say that I'm in control of what stories I write, but I'm really not. The stories tell me they want to be written and I hop to. I was plagued by Soul Fire for over six years before I gave up and wrote it down. Ruthless' MC, Ainsley, was so persistent she practically wrote herself.

YA is one of my favourite genres to write, as it can be a myriad of things smooshed together. And then there's Ruthless, which defies all age ranges I try to throw at it, because it hates me.

How does your writing process work?

Well, I have a very clear procedure, which I follow to the enth, every day. It begins like this:

1. Rise at 6am and go for a walk, allowing the inspirations of the early morning to soak in.
2. Return home, and eat a bowl of plain muesli, whilst musing on the inspirations that floated to me on my walk.
3. Sit gracefully at my impeccably tidy writing desk and start a series of hand-written notes, so neat they pass for accidental caligraphy.
4. Transfer the hand-written notes to Microsoft Word with the wifi turned off, accidentally writing the world's newest bestseller, a deep, poignant piece which inspires great thinking into what makes us ... us... you know?
5. Sign a contract for a million dollars on said project.
6. Repeat.

I most certainly do not drag my sorry butt from bed at 11am in my Harry Potter pyjamas and begin the day with an energy drink and chocolate as I shove cans and wrappers aside so I can get to my keyboard where I tap out a thousand words, cry, delete 98% of them, check Facebook as a reward, then wonder why I'm getting nothing done.

No. Not at all. Refer to the former procedure for an accurate representation.

And now...

I shall stop boring  you with my drivel and introduce you to the three wonderful authors I have tagged -
 Kathryn White, author of the newly released Cats, Scarves and Liars as well as several other titles based in South Australia.

Nicole Horlings, who I met on Jottify a few years ago and have remained in contact with ever since! She writes brilliant poetry and scripts, head on over to her blog to check it out.

Kara, who I met through Goodreads several years ago, and hosts a very active blog.

The Past Week

So Soul Blaze went on sale on March 29th 2014. In that time I've had slow, but sure, purchases both paperback and ebook.

Two reviews have filtered in on Goodreads, which can be found here and here. As they came in on the same day, you can imagine I was one chuffed little author.

And now I move onto the final installment of the Soul Trilogy, Soul Inferno. As this is the last book in the series, I won't be setting a release date right now, as I want the final book to be absolutely perfect. However, it's going to be incredibly sad to say goodbye to Sky! She's been so much fun to write, and as I hate goodbyes, I expect I'll be flooding my keyboard as I write her final scenes.

Soul Inferno opens in the Tsalski Empire, which is loosely based off of Indonesia. I travelled there in May last year and had a great time exploring the islands, which will be an invaluable source of inspiration for this exotic setting.

I can't wait to go travelling in other countries to use them as inspiration. Until then, I have very fond memories of this trip and enough photos to help remember the experience! The Tsalski Islands will be very fun to write, especially as their centuries old Empire hates Lotheria and its rulers...

Let me know where you've travelled in the comments!!

Moving the ol' blog over to something more up to date and a giveaway to celebrate

So after much deliberation (about twenty minutes) I've decided to abandon Wordpress. In the three or so years I've been on there, I've run into restriction after restriction and still don't have the hang of it. Even though I'm not the most tech savvy of my generation, I would hope after three years I would've learnt how to post without getting frustrated.

And so, I've moved to blogger.com, following many of my other friends and blogs that I'm a fan of. For those who want to access my posts before this date, here's the link to my old blog: http://aprillelegacy.wordpress.com/

Apparently there's some funny stuff buried in the archives, mostly around 2011-12.

Moving on

To celebrate the release of my second book, Soul Blaze (The Soul Trilogy #2), I'm hosting a giveaway of the first book in the series, Soul Fire.

Rose Evermore has lived in Ar Cena her entire life. Despite this, she still feels like an outsider, like a shoe that doesn’t quite fit. Halfway through her eighteenth year, she begins to notice changes around her, such as the fact that she has a stalker who can hold fire in his bare hands, or the dreams that she can turn into reality.
After a series of mishaps, Rose finds herself in an alternate realm, brought there to hone the magical power she was born with. Even here, though, Rose feels set apart. The Academy Masters treat her differently than the others. Her assigned soul mate avoids her when he should be working with her. Despite all this, Rose begins to grow into something no one could’ve seen coming; a hero.
With her, nothing is as it should be, and she decides to find out why. Soon she discovers that not everything about this new world is what it seems.
Least of all her.

Enter below and don't forget to tell your friends!


a Rafflecopter giveaway