Where did Kershin’s story begin?
While earning my bachelor’s degree in chemistry, I struggled with being gay. I decided to explore my feelings by writing a scene, where an out-of-control fire mage ran through a field, destroying everything around him. He had killed his family and brought destruction to the town. Chased by this devastation, he hated the flames, desiring to be rid of them, but they were part of him and would not leave. This was how it felt being gay at the time, that the world around me was falling apart and I was losing the relationships I had.
I set the scene aside and years later shared it with a friend, who prompted me with questions about Kershin and his power. What happened to him after the blaze? How did he reconcile killing his family? Did he ever find happiness or learn to control his fire?
I had never given thought to a full story, but he inspired me to write. And so the first draft of Kershin the Fire Mage came to be in 2007. I set it aside for several years and revisited it in 2021. It took a massive rewrite to fine-tune the story and bring it to a place where I could share it with the world. Now Kershin lives on.
What pitfalls did you face while writing this book?
Much of the original draft had to change. I broke down the essentials of the story and set them into an outline. I also decided to make Hessia a main character, giving her a POV of her own. These worked to add flair to the story, but Hessia’s character was a bit flat at first. All she ever wanted was to defeat Kershin. She had little personality other than that. After receiving some feedback, I took a long look at her and expanded her existence. Though her quest is ultimately the same, she pursues relationships and faces other conflicts.
On a final major revision, I added a new antagonist who would bring Hessia and Kershin together for better or worse. This required many changes throughout the story to incorporate the new addition, but it was a worthwhile exercise. Now the story feels complete.
Where do you do most of your writing?
I have a laptop set up in the dining room where I can focus and write. It’s quiet in the mornings and most evenings. My cats will often visit, sitting on my lap for some attention and a nap. The company is wonderful and they’re good about not tromping all over the keyboard.
When it’s nice out, I head outside to my gazebo. It’s a wonderful escape, letting me craft my stories in the comfort of an outdoor room, breathing the fresh air.
When you first start writing?
My writing started in eighth grade during English class. Our teacher prompted us with three writing tasks. First, we had to pull an item out of a box and describe it. I withdrew a teardrop-shaped crystal. In the moment, I decided to give it magic powers. The next challenge was to write about a location. I chose a dilapidated house in the neighborhood, raising it up on mystical pedestals that resonated with the teardrop crystal. The third writing task was to describe a person. I picked an old man, a hermit in a swamp, who knew about the power of the teardrop crystal. In short, I linked all three writings together.
The following year, I wrote a novella, which was a fun mess of fantasy aspects thrown together. I loved it, and in recent years rewrote the tale, the Legend of the Starsword.
What was the first book you released?
My first release was Journeys in Kallisor, book one of my Red Jade series. Two kingdoms have been at war for centuries, with no hope of reconciling their differences. One mage, Dariak, is determined the find the lost shards of the Red Jade, so he can use the power to end the war. Ga
Originally, the book was meant to be a single volume, but as I was writing it, it kept growing. I had written too much for one book, so I split it into two, then continued the story for two more volumes.
That first book went through the trenches with CreateSpace. My husband, Kevin, gathered my friends and family together for my 40th birthday and they chipped in so I could run through all the services CreateSpace had to offer. This included three deep rounds of editing, which helped me fine-tune and sharpen the story.
I dedicated Journeys in Kallisor to my mom, who had always been my biggest fan. She supported all my endeavors and taught me so many valuable lessons in life. So, on October 17, 2015, I visited my parents and opened up the CreateSpace screen. I moved down on the final page and I had my mom press the Publish button.
What are you working on now?
I recently finished work on the conclusion to the Starsword series, which released November 12, 2022. I’m planning to write a book about an alchemist whose goal is to return to his realm. It will be a shift for me, because it will be a book without actual magic. I love magic, so it will be a challenge to write. I’m looking forward to it.
Any last comments?
I’m ever grateful to the support I have from family, friends, and fans. I appreciate everyone who dives into my worlds and spends time with my characters. When you pick up and read a book, the characters return to life. Thank you for breathing life back into them all.
How do you control a power you hate?
Kershin’s attempts at a normal life have always been fruitless, but now he’s sure he’ll be cursed forever. After shunning his fire magic for years, he’s now forced to either tame it himself or be tamed by a persistent mage hunter. The harder he tries, the worse the situation gets, and as he’s hunted across the land, he leaves destruction in his wake.
Hessia has been scarred by a fire mage before, but she’s determined to never be helpless again. On her mission to tame the destructive fire mage, she faces trials that shake her to her core. Trials that test her mettle, threaten her beliefs, and decimate the villages she’s trying to protect. Will she fall prey to her own hunt?
The fire takes. The fire consumes. The fire kills.
These two know that very well. As they clash, they discover that the threats they face may be greater than either of them imagined.
Amazon
Kershin turned in time to see a brown-haired man careening toward him, arms pinwheeling to keep himself upright. There was no time to react. The man crashed into him, and both went down. Kershin’s satchel of vegetables spilled over the road and greedy townspeople snatched them up.
Kershin groused. “What’s the big idea?”
“I’m so sorry,” the man said, untangling himself and rising to his feet. He reached a hand down and helped Kershin up. “Here, I’ll help you get back your stuff.” He scurried around, grabbing the vegetables that hadn’t been taken yet. He tucked them into Kershin’s satchel.
“Well, it’s not all of them, but at least I got some back for you.” He held out a hand. “I’m Rosh.”
Kershin rubbed his side, working out a pang from the fall. He should be mad, but he found he was more curious than anything. He returned the gesture, noting Rosh’s jawline that led to an easy smile. His vibrant blue eyes weren’t unlike his own. He had dark brown hair, cut short and brushed backward, begging for fingers to run through it. His chin was crooked, lifting slightly on one side. The imperfection made him more beautiful, not less. “I’m Kershin.”
Rosh grinned. “Kershin. Sorry we met like this, but I have to say, part of me isn’t sorry at all. You’re the best-looking guy here.”
Color rose to Kershin’s cheeks. “Okay, so you’ve got spunk. But can you dance?”
“Dance?” Rosh laughed. “Well, I think I have the ability to dance, but I’m not really into the dance scene. Are you?”
Kershin bit his lip. “Well, no. I’m not even sure why I asked that. Say, what happened to you that you came crashing into me?”
“Oh that? You could say I was pushed by someone trying to pick up your vegetables.”
His eyes narrowed. “They didn’t spill until after you hit me.”
It was Rosh’s turn to blush. “Well, you caught me. I wanted to meet you, and I wanted it to be unforgettable. Forgive me?”
He rubbed his arm. There would be a bruise there, for certain. To think, it had been an intentional crash. But he didn’t think Rosh meant to hurt him. There was little harm in letting the incident go.
He waited too long to respond. “So you don’t forgive me? I guess maybe I should be on my way.”
“No, wait.” He fumbled through his satchel. “Maybe you’d like a tomato?”
Rosh snorted. “A tomato?”
He didn’t know what he was saying. “I— Well, it’s not damaged.”
“And here I should be offering you something. After all, I ruined some of your stuff. Let’s see.” He patted himself down and reached into a pocket. “I have some coppers.”
“Keep it.” Kershin held out the tomato and Rosh eventually took it.
“Well, the least I can do for your kindness is help you out. The two of us working together, we could rake in the coins. I’ll take on the veggies and you get the rest.”
Kershin grabbed for his satchel. “I’m not handing this over to you.”
“That’s not what I meant. You’ll see.” He flashed a smile and Kershin filled with warmth. It was too much warmth, he noted, but he pushed the thought aside. Rosh took two steps away, adding his voice to the calls of the vendors.
It wouldn’t work, Kershin thought. There were too many others to compete against. He needed more tact. But as he watched Rosh in action, his heart fluttered. The man moved with the grace of a dancer; maybe his awkward question wasn’t so far from the mark.
It didn’t take long for Rosh to draw in customers. Kershin worked the sales, successful each time but one. It was better than he could have expected. What was Rosh saying to them? It didn’t matter right then. He could ask later. If there was a later.
“How was I?” Rosh asked as Kershin’s supply dwindled.
“You’re amazing.”
“Am I now?”
Kershin chuckled. “I meant to say you were amazing, but I guess it’s true the other way too.”
Rosh clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed tightly. “It’s a good thing I spotted you. I couldn’t turn away.”
Heat welled inside Kershin where Rosh’s hand was planted. It spiraled from the area, working its way through his body. He gritted his teeth, fighting the sensation. This wasn’t the time or the place for this, but he couldn’t deny the warmth of Rosh’s hand or the excitement he felt that the man had touched him.
The heat within him won the battle and raged through his body, centering on his hands. A dim glow came to his fingertips, and he clenched his hands to hide it. But the heat wasn’t done. Fire erupted from his fists, coating his skin for several moments. He slammed his eyes shut and tugged on the fire, desperate for it to stop.
Rosh pulled back, but he didn’t flee. “You’d better stop that before it’s too—”
“A mage!” someone shouted. “Call the Truists! Quick! A mage in our midst!”
Bells rang immediately, echoed by other bells further away. Kershin ignored them, struggling to subdue the flames.
Rosh looked around. “We have to get out of here. It’s not safe.”
“We?”
“Don’t argue. Come on.”
Dazed, Kershin drew his hands close. Townspeople crowded around him, blocking the way, but Rosh pushed through them. When Kershin approached, his hands still aflame, the people scattered. But not all of them stayed behind. A few trailed after him.
Rosh picked up the pace and Kershin followed, turning this way and that, down one alley after the next. He had no idea where he was. He had never traveled far into the town proper, always stopping at the market to peddle his wares. It was up to Rosh to keep him safe now.
Why did he trust this stranger? Was he leading him to the Truists directly? No, that wouldn’t make sense. They wouldn’t be running.
Dashing through the alleys exhausted Kershin, and there wasn’t much stamina left in him. “Rosh, wait. I can’t.” His feet gave way and he crashed into the side of a small shed. He reached with his fiery hands for support. The wood drew in the flames, spiraling up to the top of the structure. Kershin’s eyes went wide, and he pulled back, but it was too late. The shed was aflame, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Rosh returned and gasped, reaching for Kershin’s elbow and hoisting him to his feet. “Come on!”
Kershin huffed, his hands on his knees, wondering if he could even walk. But Rosh’s persistence moved him. Yet before he fled, a woman rushed into the end of the alley. Their eyes locked, then Kershin pulled himself away.
Stephen started writing in eighth grade when his English teacher challenged the class to craft three different scenes. One scene focused on a person. A second highlighted a location. And the third detailed an object. In the moment of the quick-fire writing prompts, Wolf linked all three tasks together and created his first short story. The following year he created his first novel, then expanded it to a trilogy, growing as a writer along the way.
Stephen lives in New York with his husband, Kevin, and their cats, Merlin and Monty.
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