Book Info-
Title-Into the Fire
Series-Mieshka Files Book # 1
Publication Date- March 23, 2013
Approximately 56000 words
Blurb:
"I've got
magic?"
"I'm afraid
so."
Secure under its Mage-powered shield, Lyarne ignores the war
that has taken the rest of the country.
Inside its borders, refugees are first pitied, then
assimilated.
Mieshka knows this well. Coping with the loss of her mother and
the grief of her father, she keeps her head down at school and maintains a
neutral stance with her new Lyarnese friend.
Things change when she meets the Fire Mage. There's a lot more
to this city—and herself—than she could imagine.
And Lyarne's shield is not as impenetrable as the city would
believe…
Excerpt
Aiden, the Fire Mage, has drawn a transfer
mark on Mieshka’s hand to help her get used to magic. It leeches off of any
nearby magical sources.This is her first time in the Underground--the city that
is buried underneath her city.
“Guns, huh?”
She’d wondered
when Jo would bring that up. Dusty naked bulbs strung along a bundle of wire at
the top left corner of the brick-and-concrete tunnel. Two pipes ran along the
floor, also to the left. A leaking joint in the smaller one had resolved any
unasked questions about Underground plumbing. Mieshka tried not to think about
the larger one.
“Yeah. Guns.”
Except for the tread of their boots and the click of Jo’s mint, the tunnel was
quiet. “I don’t know why. My mom was shot, but…”
Her throat
clenched around the sore topic. She’d read somewhere that muscles clenched up
around injuries. She suspected something similar happened in the mind.
The mint stopped
clicking. Jo stared ahead, eyes unreadable. Her jaw muscles tensed.
“I’m sorry for
your loss.”
Mieshka heard
that a lot.
Silence
thickened, each carefully not looking at the other. The tunnel was full of
echoes. Some lights hummed in their sockets.
“So, Meese,
huh?”
“Yep.”
The tunnel
shifted, angled down, and ended in a dim doorway. A draft drifted past her cheek.
“City’s getting
close,” Jo said.
They entered an
old shopping mall. The lights and wire stretched along the right wall. They
disappeared into the distance, gleaming off empty display windows. It was
cavernous. The lights only lit a very small portion. The rest of the space was
lost in darkness.
Mieshka clicked
on her flashlight and flicked it left. Their path was edged by a grimy guard
rail. Across a shadowy chasm, a second path hugged the opposite side.
Escalators descended into the gap, dusty, dark, and dead. On the floor below, a
vacant concierge advertised a long expired sale.
Mieshka and Jo
followed the string of lights to the right. The occasional mannequin loomed
inside shop displays, their clothes long stripped. The quiet was palpable, and
smothered Mieshka’s senses like a pillow.
She tried not to
think of how far down they were.
They began to
hear things. Sounds. Echoes. Mieshka gripped her flashlight hard again, wide
eyes trying to pierce the dark. Jo noticed.
“Spooked? It’s
just the city. Weird acoustics in here.”
Mieshka nodded.
Still, she didn’t linger.
Eventually, the
middle chasm ended, and the two opposing paths angled together into a foyer.
Four large doors were boarded with plywood. There was nowhere else to go.
Jo held one open
for her, revealing a sidewalk on the other side. Mieshka stepped out into the
city under the city.
It was a normal,
night-time street. An eclectic mix of buildings crowded either side; the oldest
were made with brick and wore decorated trims; the mall they had left was an
anachronism amongst the century-old community. Bright storefront displays cast
squares of light onto the sidewalk, mixing with the diffused glow of
streetlights.
A displaced
hydro pole stood in the middle of the street, the concrete around its base newer
than the road. Mieshka looked up, and her mouth went slack.
Much like the
spaceship’s underground hangar, this underground city had a framework to
support its roof. It was a hybrid of steel and timber beams, crossing the
street midway between the second and third floors of the buildings. The beams
rose into shadow. Mieshka couldn’t see the ceiling.
She turned to
Jo. “How far—”
“Ten storeys in
some places. Here it’s more like five, ground to ceiling.”
Jo’s face was
shadowed by the overhang of the mall. Mieshka toed the curb, her eyes following
the line of hydro poles down the street.
“Do people drive
down here?”
“No. Carbon
monoxide isn’t so good. Lots of bikes, though.”
Shops lined the
street: groceries, DVDs, clothes. Across was a café, its brickwork a black and
red checkerboard pattern. People moved inside. She smelled fresh baking and
coffee.
If it weren’t
for the ceiling and the antiquated buildings, Mieshka could easily have
believed she was in a less-populated section of Lyarne. There was even a draft.
“How big is it?”
“If you include
all the outlying tunnels? Big. It’s quite elongated, but the Core itself is
roughly seven square blocks. There are other sections—residential,
mainly—around the Core: Eastside, Westside, and Southside. We entered near
Westside.”
Before the mall,
the tunnel had branched several times. Most of those arms had looked rather
well-used.
Jo stepped onto
the street. “There’s about half a million people down here.”
Mieshka followed.
The street curved away from them to the right. The mall’s exterior ended with
the city block. Shops had moved into its prime retail space. Farther down, she
spotted a cathedral. A light burned outside its door. Supports encircled its
spire.
“Let’s eat. This
petty cash is burning my pocket.”
They drifted
more than walked, Jo quietly letting Mieshka take the lead. A number of people
greeted Jo, giving Mieshka curious looks as they passed. Mieshka intuited that
she must be well-known down here. After a few blocks, Jo turned her down a
cobbled side street. The support beams swooped lower, hung with naked bulbs.
The brickwork on either side was black with age. How old had this place been
before it was buried?
Jo led her into
a café parked on the corner of an intersecting alley. Soon, Mieshka found
herself staring out from a lace-curtained window, her shoulder pressed to the
glass. Jo sat across from her. A pot of green tea sat between them, with
promises of cake to come.
“You’ve been
quieter than I expected,” Jo said.
Rather than
pester Jo for answers, Mieshka had been figuring out the mechanics behind the
place for herself. She stared at the writing on the café’s window.
“There’s a lot
more Chinese writing than in Uptown.” She’d been noticing it for a while.
Jo also glanced
at the window.
“There’s a lot
more Chinese down here. Higher density, anyway. Bit of a racial thing.”
“Racial thing?”
Jo’s chair
creaked as she tipped it back.
“The Chinese
were the first to be refused housing. Other minorities followed. It makes sense
that there’s a large group down here.”
“Why were they
refused?”
Jo didn’t
answer. Mieshka tried not to move under her stare.
“Your guess is
as good as mine. I wouldn’t bring it up down here, though. Bit of a sore topic.
Ah,” she said, her eyes lifting up to look behind Mieshka. “I was wondering if
he’d show.”
Mieshka looked
behind her. The man by the doorway was about as tall as Mieshka, dressed in
black, and had a wide-brimmed hat that put shadows onto his face. He looked
Chinese.
Mieshka hoped he
hadn’t heard their conversation.
“Long time no
see, Joanne.”
Joanne? Mieshka hid a smile. As the man
drew closer, that smile faded. The back of her hand tingled. Mieshka tensed
like she’d seen a gun.
“Not long
enough.” Jo’s voice had teeth.
“You wound me.”
“As I recall, we
were both wounded last time.”
“An accurate
recollection.”
Mieshka felt she
was missing part of the conversation. She didn’t have time to dwell on it: her
attention was pulled to the edge of her senses, where she’d felt the fire
before.
“Is that a
transfer sigil?”
Mieshka blinked.
He’d come closer while she’d looked away. He stared at the mark.
“It is.” Jo’s
voice was vaguely triumphant. “And you can tell your boss that, too.”
“She’s new,
isn’t she? What is your name?”
Mieshka didn’t
want to tell him. The energy through the mark felt taut, like the spring of a
trap. She forced herself to stay calm.
“I don’t believe
you’ve told me yours, yet.”
His expression
was unreadable. After a moment, he held out his hand.
“Roger.”
“Mieshka.”
When they shook,
it felt like a weight dropped into place.
“A pleasure to
meet you,” he said. “Mind the tea.”
She looked back
at her cup. The liquid spilled above the brim, floating in the air.
She let go of
his hand. It fell back with a soft plop.
“Are you the
Water Mage?”
Jo snorted into
her drink.
Roger looked
amused. “No. I’m her apprentice. I assume you are Aiden’s?”
Was he the water
elemental Chris had talked about? Her jaw tensed. She found herself nodding. He
seemed friendly enough now, but it was clear he and Jo had a history.
“That explains
the rumours, then.”
Rumours? There
were rumours about her?
“Word spreads
awfully quick down here,” Jo commented dryly.
“It does.”
Mieshka tried
not to look worried.
“I expect we
will be seeing more of each other, Mieshka.” With a tip of his hat, he left. He
waved through the window as he passed.
Jo and Mieshka
watched the transfer mark. They did not speak until the glow had gone.
“So you’ve
decided? You’ll be his apprentice?”
“Maybe. What did
you mean by ‘wound’?”
Jo took a sip of
her tea. “He likes to pick fights.”
Perhaps he
wasn’t as amiable as he seemed. Mieshka rethought his last words to her. She
decided that she didn’t particularly want to see more of him.
A moment later,
the cake came.
Links-
Our Author Interview
What would you have done
differently if you were the main character of your book?
Given the circumstances and stress, I’ve tried to imagine what
I’d do in Mieshka’s shoes. I think that, had Mom died recently, I doubt I would
have been much use in school. I would have tried to keep the stiff upper lip
attitude, just like she has, but Mieshka has a lot more strength than I do. If
I were her, I would have broken down a long time ago.
What was your
inspiration behind this book?
This is going to sound a bit silly. I used to role-play with my
friends, and our character used an elemental base just like in the book. I’ve
modified it for the story, but it’s there. I’m also an avid fan of Avatar: The Last Airbender and, while I
was a bit disappointed about The Legend
of Korra, I still felt rather deprived when I flew through every episode
that existed. I needed to tell my own elemental story, and Mieshka was raring
to go.
Why did you become a
writer?
I’ve always wanted to be one, even as a little girl. I guess
that I’m just taking that step now. Any of you reading this now, if you ever want to be something, go and make that
step! It’s worth it!
As a reader and writer I
think it is important to get to know your fans and make a connection with them
as an author who takes the extra step to hear what their fans think and want in
their continued writing is continued success and key to selling more books. Do
you agree with that?
I do and I don’t. I would really, really love to get to know my
fans. I am determined to connect and make myself available, and I think it is a
key part of success. A lot of writer advice out there says to “know your
audience”, and what better way to do so than to interact with them?
But six years of working customer service have made me a bit
leery to taking advice. I worry that my work might end up more like fanfiction
than mine, if you get my drift. It’s important to connect with people. Very,
very important. I enjoy doing so. But I feel that if I got too involved, people
might get offended when/if the story didn’t go the way they wanted.
Maybe I’ve watched Misery
once too many.
Do you have a favorite
author or authors?
Oh, goodness yes! Guy
Gavriel Kay, Shirley Jackson, Holly Black, Peter S. Beagle, Cherie Priest,
Charles de Lint, and Lindsay Buroker, just to name a few.
Do you like to write
your books in a continuing series?
Depends on the book. I’m writing for a series right now (I’ve
got two sequels planned, so far. And two spin-offs), but I have a couple of
ideas for novels that feel like they should be finished in one book. One long
book, but just one book.
If you could date any
character from any book, who would it be and why?
Em. Hrm. A slightly younger Dean Winchester? Hehe. However,
I’ve only seen him on TV.
I think I’d go for Mike Havel from S.M. Stirling’s Emberverse
series. He’s a strong leader, practical, doesn’t take crap from anyone. We also
have a similar taste in humour.
His wife would kill me, though. Literally. With a sword.
What kinds of books do
you like to read in your spare time?
All kinds. I’m currently going through Religion and its Monsters and The
Dresden Files simultaneously. I lean toward anything under the fantasy
umbrella, preferring a healthy dose of adventure or thriller in my book.
Do you cry when writing
sad scenes?
I blubber more than a whale. I sniffle through it like through
a weird kind of allergy season. Sometimes, I turn to ice cream and cuddle my
stuffed animals.
Did you have a Cover
Designer?
I use Streetlight Graphics. I also peruse Go On Write for all
of his beautiful Pre-mades.
Who is your fictional
boyfriend or girlfriend crush?
Eric Northman from True Blood. Or maybe just Alexander
Skarsgard who plays him. Yum.
If you were able to dine
and have a one on one with your favorite writer/author who would it be?
Charles de Lint. I think I’d want to get a PhD in mythology
before I was comfortable having a one on one with him, though!
Do just re-read your
favorite books?
I definitely re-read my favorite books. The Haunting of Hill House is sitting next to me right now, having
just been references. The Last Unicorn
is on its fourth or fifth round through, and I read The Lord of the Rings and all Harry
Potter books six times when I was in high school.
There are favorites that I can’t re-read anymore. I’ve grown
too much since I read them that I just can’t get into them anymore. The Wind Singer, The King of the Wind, Black
Beauty--they shall remain forever on my shelves.
Do you ever get in a
reading slump like your readers do?
Not often, but yes. Usually when I’m stressed or when I’ve read
too much (it is, unfortunately, possible to read too much). I find that going
for walks, listening to music, running, or doing anything to take one’s mind
off it will cure the slump.
What is the funniest
book you ever read?
One of the Hitchhiker’s Guides. Can’t remember which. Douglas
Adams was a genius.
About the Author-
After a year spent living in South-West China, K. Gorman has
returned to her life as a university student in Western Canada. During high
school, she spent her days ignoring classwork to focus on reading or writing.
She has been a voracious consumer of Fantasy and Science Fiction for as long as
she can remember. When not reading or writing, she moonlights as a horse-drawn
carriage driver, combining her love of history with her long-time passion of
working with horses.
Links-
Website/Blog: http://kgorman.ca/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/kgorman8
Facebook Event for Tour- https://www.facebook.com/events/129466187260782/
3 comments:
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@Bobbye Booth Thank you !
Thanks for having me on your blog!
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