May 12, 2014

In the Spotlight with Dee Harrison!

Dee Harrison was brought up in Nottingham, England, on the tales of Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest. From that came an abiding love for all things Medieval so she went on to read History at Nottingham University. The myths and legends of the period fascinated her and she decided to create her own. Thus was the Firelord's Legacy born.
Dee's latest series, Mirrorsmith, a taste of which can be found in Fusion, is quite different, however. She is not a fan of spiders so she made them the villains.
Dee has also had articles and essays on Medieval History published in journals.

The Firelord’s Crown

Raethwin, the Red Witch, perhaps the greatest sorceress of her era. She sought to save her world, instead she doomed it. The Firelord's Crown, source of her untold power. It brought about the impending disaster but Tamilin, Master Healer and Seer, believes it might also prove their salvation. There's just one problem. Two thousand years ago Raethwin's six companions fled when their homeland was destroyed and divided the Firelord's Crown between them.
Five made it to safety - the sixth ship and its precious heirloom vanished. Tamilin believes that it may lie far in the uncharted north and dispatches an expedition in search of it. Airen, a young healer and lone survivor of the venture, reaches the land called Dinith, where he hopes to find the lost piece. Dinith, however, is a land in turmoil. Magic is forbidden, the glories of the past forgotten. Airen and his quest are not welcome but could Falath, the king's heir, be the ally that he desperately craves? Perhaps, but Falath, descendant of the Lost Ship, has his own secrets...

The Firelord's Crown. An epic tale of magic and adventure. Harper Collins Authonomy gold medallist.

The heart of this fast-paced, enthralling, sword-and-sorcery fantasy story is the search for a missing piece of a legendary crown but it also explores the complex relationships between Prince Falath; Rollo, his kinsman and protector; Airen, the outsider, bringer of mystery and magic; Lady Maristan, daughter of a heretic lord burned for his beliefs that there are other people in the world beyond the mountains. They each journey not only to find the segment of the Firelord's Crown but also to discover how best to be true to their own natures.


Falath walked slowly into the leaden morning air and Rollo stepped closer to the rail, ignoring the acid pain shooting through his upper arm. Even from this distance the Talorian's keen sight showed his kinsman's face to be strained and pale. Falath faltered in the strong light but then he straightened and continued his progress with a regal bearing few would have guessed him to possess. He was garbed in a simple robe of penitential yellow, girt at the waist by a cord, and his arms loosely bound behind him. His head was bare and on his brow the witchmark was plain for all to see.

"It’s not too late to save him," Malglint hissed into Rollo’s ear, his hand stroking the warriors fingers. "Even now he could be reprieved."

Rollo refused to acknowledge the earl's existence. Malglint breathed in sharply. "Very well, keep your precious honour and let him be damned!"

The crowd had fallen silent at the prince's approach and the earl's unmistakeable voice carried out into the square. Many of those nearest to the balcony and around the wooden podium stared upwards, puzzled by these words, and saw for the first time the duress under which the Lord of Chanon was being held. Clearly he was not the willing participant in the day's affair they had been led to believe. An undercurrent of suspicion pulsed outwards in slow ripples and, by the time Falath reached the steps at the side of the stage, there were positive signs of discontent among those closest to him. Sensing this, Greyildin bound onto the platform and hauled his prisoner up before any-one could contemplate preventing him. Falath was chained to the central post, the bundles of faggots rearranged around his feet and lower legs.

The press of Sunonim surged forwards at this, forcing the warriors back against the wooden stage. Greyildin glared uneasily at Malglint, feeling isolated and exposed to an increasingly hostile mob. He had argued in favour of a private execution and the wisdom of that counsel now seemed justified. He looked to Malglint for guidance but the earl signalled him to continue and, with some reluctance, he drew out the writ of execution from beneath his cuirass. In a clear voice he intoned the ritual formula.

"Insofar as Falath Urien Gwillan Dorior, formerly deemed prince of this realm, has been accused of witchery and other foul arts, and insofar as by decree of Council and by true evidence of the Stone of Judgement he has been found guilty of the aforesaid crimes then, in accordance with the Law, his life is declared forfeit. For that, and for the wellbeing and mortification of his soul, he will suffer the prescribed punishment, death by burning. Let all who hear take heed!"

Greyildin rolled up the scroll and handed it to one of the black-garbed attendants in exchange for a blazing torch. He saluted Malglint with the brand then reached out to touch it to the tinder.

It never connected.

From the rear of the press a single arrow whistled through the air and pierced Greyildin's unprotected throat. He toppled from the platform, gurgling disbelief as blood filled his mouth. The torch extinguished itself in a muddy pool beside him.

"Good people of Sunon," cried a bass voice into the shocked silence. "Tis I, Tolferon, rightful Commander of this city, who speaks. You have been lied to and deceived. The prince is no sorcerer; it’s a trick of the Earl of Keldheim to rob us of our king. Quickly now, help us free him and take revenge on our enemies," and the ar­mour-girt figure of the Commander ploughed through the petrified ranks on a black destrier, nudging towards the wooden stage. Behind him, likewise mounted, came the loyal Sunonim guardsmen, seeking to surround the square and cut off the retreat of the renegades and housecarls. Slowly, all too slowly, the crowd reacted and allowed the newcomers to pass through them. Malglint, however, was not bound by such restriction. Cursing, he leapt to the rail and screamed down at Greyildin's stultified attendants.

"Talian! Rargis! Complete the execution order! I, Malglint, so command it," and, fearing the earl's wrath more than the crowd, the two men grabbed up the remaining torches from the brazier and thrust them into the kindling. Despite the damp sheen on the twigs the fire took an immediate hold. A circle of flame erupted around Falath's feet. Cries of despair went up from those closest to the stage. Several foolhardy youths leapt up onto the platform and tried to knock the burning faggots away but the searing heat beat them back.

Malglint, countenance blazing as fiercely as the pyre, turned in triumph on Rollo.
"Too late! Too late, the deed is done. No-one can save him now." Malglint’s hand snaked out and he crushed the other to the rail. "If you have a last word for him say it now," he hissed and, horrified, Rollo watched the flames began to lick towards Falath's feet, the pale robes already blistering with scorch marks. Plumes of white smoke smarted into Rollo's eyes. Their plan had failed. Tolferon was still too far away to save their prince.

From the centre of the swelling furnace Falath raised his own tormented eyes to meet those of his kinsman. Before the smoke and flames engulfed him, he mouthed a single, silent 'farewell!' then the roar and crack of the tortured timber drowned everything in its fury.

Behind the Scenes

Is there a word or phrase you catch yourself overusing?

I seem to ‘lurch’ a lot seemingly.

Are you a Swooper (write first, edit later,) a Basher (edit each sentence as you go,) or both?

I write a few sentences then go back and re-write parts until they ‘sound’ right. When I have written a chapter, I go back several chapters and work through to the part I’m on, to make sure it all flows together, and so on.

What is the one thing you must have to be able to write?

I like to have music in the background.

What are you currently working on? How is it different from other books you’ve written?

My WIP is not just fantasy but a multi-world sci-fi. I’m planning it as a one-off rather than part of a long-running series.

Do you feel there is anything the market is oversaturated with right now?

I tend to yawn when I come across another vampire/werewolf tale.

How do you feel about the term “Mommy Porn”?

Hmm, I just think other publishers have jumped on the Mills and Boon bandwagon a little late.

What do you feel are the most important aspects to a good romance?

The reader has to feel sympathy with the main character, believe they could be them.

Are you always in the driver’s seat? Or do your characters drag you along for the ride?

I have an idea where I am going but I’m always prepared for the characters to have their own agenda too.

Lightning Round

Die Hard or Terminator: Die Hard
Dirt Road or City Skyline: Dirt road
Steak or Chicken: chicken
Rock or Country Music: rock
Beer or Wine: wine

1 comment:

  1. I've read everything by this author and can't recommend her enough! I challenge any sci/fi fan to read 'The fire lords crown' and not to be hooked! :)