A Vision in Crimson
Frostbite
Frostbite
Book One
Kathryn Troy
Genre: dark romantic fantasy
Date of Publication: June 1, 2017
ISBN: 9781539800897
Number of pages: 323
Word Count: 80k
Cover Artist: TS95 Studios
Book Description:
Kathryn Troy
Genre: dark romantic fantasy
Date of Publication: June 1, 2017
ISBN: 9781539800897
Number of pages: 323
Word Count: 80k
Cover Artist: TS95 Studios
Book Description:
Katelyn knows her magic is risky, but Icaryan light is fading fast and she is desperate. Returning to Earth, she crosses paths with Luca, a vampire hybrid living on the outskirts of humanity.
Passion sparks their weary hearts. The rogue hunter follows Katelyn into a world teeming with wonder and danger, forsaking his own quest to root out his father.
But his father has not forgotten him.
A Vision in Crimson is the first installment of a new epic fantasy blistering with romance and Gothicism.
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Excerpt 1 :His dream was broken by the feel of something soft against his mouth. He opened his eyes and blinked, thinking for a moment that he was still asleep. Flooding his vision was the red-haired siren of his dream, crouched above him.
Her dark brown eyes were staring straight into his. He held her glance for a long while, then took a minute to glimpse at the rest of her. Her features were well defined and graceful. Her long luxurious hair, braided in a few places, spilled over her firm, ample curves onto the ground in front of her. Looking at it now in reality, he saw a unique, vibrant shade of red, darker and almost auburn in the shade of the trees, with strands of pure copper and gold highlighted by the sun through the forest canopy. Her large eyes sparkled. They were alight with intrigue and kind concern, but Luca saw a touch of the tired sadness that he was accustomed to seeing in his own dim reflection. Too much for someone her age.
Luca puzzled over her age for more than a few seconds. Her beauty and slender frame suggested a girl nearing her thirties, yet her countenance told him she had been through more than her share of life’s troubles, even for a woman of the rough and unprotected countryside.
She stared at his clear crystal blue eyes, framed by thick dark brows. A straight nose, tightly pursed lips and strong chin completed his face. Despite his pale complexion, he was dark and beautiful. She didn’t let it show on her face, but the woman had become immediately enamored of him.
Her fingers rested lightly on his mouth. After a silence that lasted a bit too long, she was the first to speak.
“I’ll have you out of there in just a minute,” she whispered. “I won’t hurt you, but we have to be quiet.”
She turned her head to the side to get a glimpse of the valley below.
“I’m looking out for a friend, and just spotted you here a minute ago. Once I’m sure he’s okay, I’ll start digging.”
Luca said nothing. When she was sure that he wouldn’t make a sound, she removed her hand from his lips and moved closer to the hill’s edge, looking for her companion. Luca got a better look at what she was wearing.
A plaid scarf in sapphire blue with hints of gold thread was wrapped around her neck and waist, covering a tunic dress of the same shade. Her legs were covered by high, soft leather brown boots and blue leggings, but Luca spied shapely thighs at the edge of her skirt. She wore a utility belt across her chest which hinted at her generous cleavage, despite her modest neckline. Above, his eyes traced the silhouette of her long, pale, comely neck with excitement, but he quickly quashed the flutter in his heart before it developed, and redirected his gaze.
At her hips, she wore two short swords, and the hilt of a dagger peeked out from the top of her boot. She seemed sure of herself, and didn’t appear the least bit threatened by Luca. She didn’t react to seeing him for the first time in the manner customary to women, and even scores of young men; they usually succumbed quickly to his outward charms—his dark aura and hypnotic stare, two of his many vampiric qualities. But she didn’t gasp in fear or swoon in ecstasy. That puzzled him.
A small part of him wondered why she hadn’t immediately responded to his visage, with a little disappointment. He chalked it up to her finding him covered in dirt from the neck down. But he knew that shouldn’t have stopped her from surrendering to his trance-inducing stare, even for a moment. He was intrigued by this girl, who had just happened to appear as his dream self was making love to her.
Her garb made her even more of a mystery. He only noticed these things, which were inconsequential to him, because the fabrics, colors, and design of her wardrobe were infinitely superior, and foreign, to anything he had ever seen, including some of the priciest fashions available in the biggest cities. He much preferred the naked version of her, which had dissipated with her actual presence. But even in all her gear, chosen for its rugged functionality, she looked regal. He saw her gesture to her friend, then she turned to face him once more.
“Okay, it looks like whoever did this to you is gone. I’ll have you walking around again soon. Who did do this to you, anyway?” she asked, as she began to claw at the earth with her hands.
“I did.”
His voice was as toneless and nonchalant as ever. Her hands paused for a moment, still holding clumps of dirt, and she looked at him quizzically.
“You buried yourself? Why on earth would you do a thing like that?”
Here came the part he always dreaded, but was compelled to divulge nevertheless.
“I’m a dhampir.”
“A what?”
Here, Luca thought, was the reaction he had been expecting, but had been unusually delayed. He waited for what he had said to sink in, but it didn’t. She was still honestly waiting for an answer. He repeated himself.
“I’m a dhampir.”
“What’s a dhampir?”
He just stared at her, his eyes going slightly wide.
“I’m not from around here,” she explained, “so you’re going to have to fill me in.”
Now it was Luca’s turn to pause. Never, in his entire life, had he been asked to explain this term. In a world whose entire existence revolved around the struggle between vampires and humans, to find someone who was not familiar with this word was truly unheard of. He experienced an emotion he had almost never had occasion to experience. He was, in a word, stunned.
“I’m part human, part vampire.”
“Oh. Ohhhh.”
She finally got it. He waited now for the standard response. Instead, a look of embarrassment swept over her face as she began hurriedly replacing the soil she had disturbed.
“I am so sorry, I didn’t realize. I didn’t mean to intrude on your resting. You looked like you were having a hell of a dream.”
If you only knew. But, was she actually apologizing for bothering his slumber? Luca’s revelation hadn’t fazed her in the slightest. His amazement at her response only piqued his interest in her more.
“It’s alright, I was just getting up.”
Though she had interrupted him, he felt rested.
“In that case, would you like me to help you?”
“Do what you like.”
She resumed her exhumation of Luca. “My name is Kate, by the way.”
Luca stretched his muscles slightly to a sitting position, the remaining earth above him falling away. He took her outstretched palm with his freed right hand, and they both stood up.
“Call me Luca.”
About the Author:
Kathryn Troy is an historian turned novelist and baker. Her nonfiction book, The Specter of the Indian: Race, Gender and Ghosts in American Séances, 1848-1890, is forthcoming from SUNY Press. Her historical expertise in the supernatural and the Gothic informs her fiction at every turn. Her genres of choice include dark fantasy, romance, horror, and historical fiction. She lives in New York with her husband and two darling children.
Bathory’s Closet: http://ladybathoryscloset.blogspot.com
Kathryn Troy is an historian turned novelist and baker. Her nonfiction book, The Specter of the Indian: Race, Gender and Ghosts in American Séances, 1848-1890, is forthcoming from SUNY Press. Her historical expertise in the supernatural and the Gothic informs her fiction at every turn. Her genres of choice include dark fantasy, romance, horror, and historical fiction. She lives in New York with her husband and two darling children.
Bathory’s Closet: http://ladybathoryscloset.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kathryn.troy
Goodreads Profile: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16571460.Kathryn_Troy
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/bathoryscloset
Interview:
1. Where do you get your ideas?
I’ve read a lot of great fiction over the course of my lifetime; having the urge to experience those tales for the first time again can sometimes be the start of an idea—a beloved book might provide a setting, a concept, or the beginnings of a character, and then I’ll pull it apart, try to understand what really grabbed me and make it my own, to write what I want to see on the page. The same process can start with a book I wanted to love, but just didn’t. If a story left me wanting, then I might just pick up the pieces and write the story that I hoped for. I hoped for deeper character development in Hideyuki Kikuchi’s Vampire Hunter D series, for example, but I’ve read over a dozen of those installments, and nothing changes. So I stopped waiting for someone else to write what I thought was an “ideal” story. I took the concept of a vampire hybrid, and gave him all the things I thought such a character was missing. Luca has a family history, weaknesses, a love interest, a purpose. I gave him a life, one that I think will resonate with people in the real world, but with all the adventure, passion, and danger that we crave in great fantasy fiction.
My current project, Bog Body, had a similar trajectory. Its seeds came to me when I was reading Anne Rice’s The Mummy. That book had so much potential, in my mind. It was dark, and sensual, and features a revenant. That’s about all that book and mine have in common. I scrapped everything else, because it didn’t work for me. In reality, I was wishing for a whole other kind of story, so I crafted something that met my expectations.
2. How do you handle writer’s block?
I don’t get writer’s block that often. Writer’s block would imply that my mind is empty, and needs to be filled with something—ideas, solutions to plot problems, or what have you. I’m an A-type, so my mind is never empty. I have a daily, hourly, almost to-the-minute-urge to write. So when my hand hurts or I run out of blank pages, I think about my story. And think about it and think about it and think about it until I have to get it out on paper or I’ll go batty. And the vicious cycle starts again. Lots of writers talk about how they’ve been telling stories since childhood. I suppose that’s true for me too. I’ve always been a more fantasy-minded person, but I would never have recognized that as a sign of my writer-ness. I was convinced that historical nonfiction was my writing forte, and my daydreams were just that. It’s only been a few years since I wrote the first draft for A Vision in Crimson. Now I can’t stop, like I’m making up for lost time.
3. What inspired you to write this book?
I started writing right around the time when I was beginning a shift in my career, from historian to baker. I was also a new mom, and discovered I was about to be a mom of two. My world was full of change, and I think I felt the possibility of trying something new, and seeing where it might lead. I haven’t looked back, and the first draft of A Vision in Crimson was down on paper in less than three months. It certainly isn’t what you’d get if you picked up a copy today, but I knew I had done something worthwhile, had sparked an interest that I could nurture for a very long time. It takes up a crazy amount of mental space, but aside from family time and reading, it’s the most rewarding part of my day.
4.What’s the hardest part of being an author?
Time management. Being a novelist is not a career—not unless you’re Stephen King. But it is a full-time job, and I already had, let’s see…two careers, two kids…a husband…a never-ending itch to travel…
Lots of authors talk about the struggle to “find” the time to write amid the world’s very real, very strict demands upon not just our time, but our mental energy too. If you’ve been doing a nine-to-five or more, who wants to come home and think, to sit down for hours and create, when you could just prop your feet up, binge a show, bounce your kid on your knee, and slide into unconsciousness until the next morning, and then do it all again? But the chances are low that you’ll regret sacrificing your lounge time for creative time, if you have that urge. It’s a way to fulfill yourself, to pay attention and rejuvenate your mental and emotional wellness. You’ll never find the time. You have to make it. One sleepless night and forgotten load of laundry at a time.
I’ve read a lot of great fiction over the course of my lifetime; having the urge to experience those tales for the first time again can sometimes be the start of an idea—a beloved book might provide a setting, a concept, or the beginnings of a character, and then I’ll pull it apart, try to understand what really grabbed me and make it my own, to write what I want to see on the page. The same process can start with a book I wanted to love, but just didn’t. If a story left me wanting, then I might just pick up the pieces and write the story that I hoped for. I hoped for deeper character development in Hideyuki Kikuchi’s Vampire Hunter D series, for example, but I’ve read over a dozen of those installments, and nothing changes. So I stopped waiting for someone else to write what I thought was an “ideal” story. I took the concept of a vampire hybrid, and gave him all the things I thought such a character was missing. Luca has a family history, weaknesses, a love interest, a purpose. I gave him a life, one that I think will resonate with people in the real world, but with all the adventure, passion, and danger that we crave in great fantasy fiction.
My current project, Bog Body, had a similar trajectory. Its seeds came to me when I was reading Anne Rice’s The Mummy. That book had so much potential, in my mind. It was dark, and sensual, and features a revenant. That’s about all that book and mine have in common. I scrapped everything else, because it didn’t work for me. In reality, I was wishing for a whole other kind of story, so I crafted something that met my expectations.
2. How do you handle writer’s block?
I don’t get writer’s block that often. Writer’s block would imply that my mind is empty, and needs to be filled with something—ideas, solutions to plot problems, or what have you. I’m an A-type, so my mind is never empty. I have a daily, hourly, almost to-the-minute-urge to write. So when my hand hurts or I run out of blank pages, I think about my story. And think about it and think about it and think about it until I have to get it out on paper or I’ll go batty. And the vicious cycle starts again. Lots of writers talk about how they’ve been telling stories since childhood. I suppose that’s true for me too. I’ve always been a more fantasy-minded person, but I would never have recognized that as a sign of my writer-ness. I was convinced that historical nonfiction was my writing forte, and my daydreams were just that. It’s only been a few years since I wrote the first draft for A Vision in Crimson. Now I can’t stop, like I’m making up for lost time.
3. What inspired you to write this book?
I started writing right around the time when I was beginning a shift in my career, from historian to baker. I was also a new mom, and discovered I was about to be a mom of two. My world was full of change, and I think I felt the possibility of trying something new, and seeing where it might lead. I haven’t looked back, and the first draft of A Vision in Crimson was down on paper in less than three months. It certainly isn’t what you’d get if you picked up a copy today, but I knew I had done something worthwhile, had sparked an interest that I could nurture for a very long time. It takes up a crazy amount of mental space, but aside from family time and reading, it’s the most rewarding part of my day.
4.What’s the hardest part of being an author?
Time management. Being a novelist is not a career—not unless you’re Stephen King. But it is a full-time job, and I already had, let’s see…two careers, two kids…a husband…a never-ending itch to travel…
Lots of authors talk about the struggle to “find” the time to write amid the world’s very real, very strict demands upon not just our time, but our mental energy too. If you’ve been doing a nine-to-five or more, who wants to come home and think, to sit down for hours and create, when you could just prop your feet up, binge a show, bounce your kid on your knee, and slide into unconsciousness until the next morning, and then do it all again? But the chances are low that you’ll regret sacrificing your lounge time for creative time, if you have that urge. It’s a way to fulfill yourself, to pay attention and rejuvenate your mental and emotional wellness. You’ll never find the time. You have to make it. One sleepless night and forgotten load of laundry at a time.
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