I’m very pleased to welcome fantasy author Kasia Bacon to the blog today. Not least because I’ve finally found a writer who works in a similar vein to how I put my stories together. Only difference is, I start with music and only head for Pinterest when I get stuck… but that’s a very minor point. Like many people, I can sympathise with the need to escape into a world where we’re not out of control, and creating fantasy worlds is a great way to do it. So why not follow Kasia Bacon as she answers common reader question and then check out her next offering, The Highlander.
One thing I can say… The Highlander, and the first book in the series, The Mutt, are coming on holiday with me.
Since the publication of The Mutt, my first Order story, I’ve been lucky to receive a number of emails from my readers. Here are answers to the five most often asked questions.
Because, frankly, the world around us sucks quite a bit and I’m an escapist. I binged on fantasy books and historicals in my formative years, and that left a deep mark. There’s a longing in me for something fantastical, and a great fondness for bygone times. Fantasy makes up for the mundanities of every-day life. In addition, I have an excessive imagination that bombards me with images that demand an outlet.
Will you ever write a contemporary story?
Never say never, but I think it unlikely. Urban fantasy—yes. A historical of some kind? Possibly. I wouldn’t have the first clue how to go about writing a contemporary story, even if it did appeal to me. The world already exists, so what if I get something wrong? No thanks! I can’t handle that kind of pressure laughs
How do you come up with the names of your characters and geographical places, etc.?
By doodling combinations of vowels and consonants on a bit of paper and choosing what looks and sounds right. As a linguist, I enjoy language games, and creating new words is super fun. For me, the names are vital — they conjure the sense of setting and invoke the vibe I’m after. I’ve said this before: naming an Elven warrior Tom and a Nymph Anne could be done, but to my mind, it would rob the whole experience of something precious. Not that those aren’t wonderful names.
The influences behind the majority of the names and made up terms I’ve used throughout my stories are threefold: Gaelic, Scandinavian and Japanese.
What are your favourite tropes?
I really like writing the Class Difference and — in a wider sense — the Opposites Attract trope. The Reverse Dominance also works well for me. They provide great contexts for incorporating some serious UST and a touch of angst into stories. However, I simply adore the Second Chance at Love trope, because, let’s face it — it’s a potential goldmine of feelz.
As a reader, I favour the Enemies to Lovers trope.
How do you set about writing a new story?
Well, I usually start with a Pinterest board. Images are an integral part of my planning process. I visualise a lot before putting the words down. I take notes, but I don’t prepare elaborate outlines; there’s not much point in putting myself through such a palaver because I’d never stick to it, anyway. While I always know how the story will begin and end, the middle tends to be a free-for-all inside my brain. I write out of sequence, which suits my chaotic and impatient personality.
Length: 58 pages
Buy at: Amazon
Note: This novelette is the second in the Order Series, and not a stand-alone instalment. Reading THE MUTT is crucial for its full enjoyment.
I, Lochan of the famed Féyes clan, know all about fighting.
As a half-breed Elf, I have struggled against prejudice and feelings of inadequacy.
A recluse by nature, I have battled my aversion to touch and interaction with others.
To become an assassin of The Order, I have learnt to overcome the limitations of my mind and body.
But denying the power Ervyn Morryés holds over me might be the one fight I lose. The truth is—damn it all—the relentless Highlander brings me to my knees.
Excerpt from The Highlander by Kasia Bacon
Ervyn’s hand immediately rose to brush my cheek and jaw line. “I missed you,” he murmured.
My pulse jumped a notch.
He tended to say things like that, nonchalant, as if betraying one’s thoughts cost nothing. His impulsivity meant he rarely bothered to conceal his wants and intentions. Such a barefaced approach shocked the hell out of me, although I partly admired, partly envied his readiness to show emotion.
My eyes slid closed at the warm, rough feel of his thickened fingertips: the draw hand of the archer. Somehow this heightened my pleasure. The smell of pine needles, leather and horses hit my nostrils.
His thumb skimmed my bottom lip.
I moaned, already so aroused I could kill with my hard-on. Which, in fairness, would be a handy skill to have for an assassin.
Touch me. More. I need you.
But then he stalled and drew back a little.
I knew precisely what he was after. What he thrived on: my pleas and desperation.
I offered him both, having no shame left at that point.
“Please,” I whispered, clinging to him. I ran my tongue over my lip, extending it so it would swirl around the pad of his thumb, too. “Don’t stop.”
He gave a satisfied grunt in response, and hearing him express approval almost made me spill myself inside my leathers. The realisation that I held the power to please him never failed to fill me with a thrill of lustful pride. The reason behind why I wanted—no, needed—to do so in the first place remained a disturbing mystery. But right then, wondering about it, or fighting it for that matter, didn’t feature high on my agenda. I was close to exploding even though we’d barely done anything yet.
“It’s going to be quick,” he warned, as if reading my scrambled thoughts. His breaths, stuttering right in my ear, cranked my want even higher. His body, taut and ready, trembled against mine.
Thank fuck I wasn’t the only one frantic.
I stifled a laugh. “You don’t say.”
Gods, he had no idea.
Ervyn murmured something, latching his mouth onto mine again. I could tell by his sweet and spicy taste that he’d chewed on a root of darhê, which—as did most Dark Elves—he had a fondness for. My brain already associated this flavour with pleasure.
He ended the deep, slow kiss all too soon with a little nip to my bottom lip.
I groaned in protest, but knew better than to chase after his mouth.
About Kasia Bacon
A linguist and an avid reader with a particular fondness for fantasy and paranormal genres, KASIA BACON lives in London with her husband. When not tearing her hair out over a translating project, she writes stories about the shenanigans of emotionally constipated assassins and sexy Elves. Otherwise, she can be found shaking her loins at a Zumba class, binging on anime or admiring throwing knives on Pinterest. She has a mild coffee and lemon tart addiction. A lover of MMA and Muay Thai, she also enjoys nature and the great outdoors. She dreams of becoming independently wealthy, leaving the city and moving into her wooden mini-manor—located in the heart of stunning forests resembling those of the Elven Country depicted in her tales.
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More from Kasia Bacon
Buy from Amazon
Buy from Amazon