Night is falling. Embrace the darkness. ➱ The Earthborn Saga Science Fiction Fantasy by Steven Bissett, Series Tour with Guest Post and Giveaway
Night is falling.
Embrace the darkness.
A Son of the Shadows
The Earthborn Saga Vol 1
by Steven Bissett
Genre: Science Fiction Fantasy
Night is falling. Embrace the darkness.
On the ice-clad prison world of Delta-13, where minds teeter on the edge of madness, mankind's future dangles by a thread.
Living under the shadow of an imperial conspiracy, Rex Hunt discovers a psychic gift that will upset the balance of power in the entire galaxy.
As Rex grapples with his newfound power, prison psychiatrist, Dr. Lily Tselitel, delves into the chilling surge of madness among the inmates, pulling her closer to a secret as old as the galaxy itself.
Their paths converge as they uncover an imperial plot to build a weapon that threatens to suffocate the flickering spirit of rebellion in the galaxy's fringe colonies.
Unbeknownst to the rebels, as they fight against the empire's sinister plan, an ancient shadow looms over the galaxy, threatening to consume humanity's vast colonies, and even Earth itself!
Discover the first book in an epic space opera where hope survives in secret taverns, and the line between life and death is blurred in the snowy expanse of Delta-13.
You're just one click
away from learning mankind's fate.
The Beast Emerges
The Earthborn Saga Vol II
Ancient secrets. New battles.
An unyielding, insidious peril, the Devourers unleash chaos in the galaxy.
First in their malevolent sights: the ice planet Delta-13, next the enigmatic jungles of Preleteth. Rex Hunt, driven by destiny and cryptic legends, forges alliances in the galaxy's darkest corners.
From pirate-infested asteroids to secret Imperial bases, danger lurks at every corner. When ancient prophecies from the sentient world of Preleteth point to a shadowy salvation, Rex's fate becomes irrevocably intertwined with a journey that spans galaxies.
Every alliance forged, every secret unveiled, and every battle waged will shape the future in this grand space opera of courage, sacrifice, and cosmic revelation.
Dive deep with Rex and his crew as they embark on a perilous journey. If you think you've outsmarted the might of the Empire or the ruthlessness of the Devourers… prepare for your reckoning.
Jump into book two of The Earthborn Saga today!
The Crucible of Titans
The Earthborn Saga Vol III
Dreadnoughts. Devourers. Deception. In a star field of lies, can anyone be trusted?
Trapped aboard the Empire’s ultimate weapon, Sentinel, Rex becomes the crucial factor in the cosmic war against the Devourers.
But there's a mysterious web of deceit beyond the battlefield. Driven by an intense hatred of mankind, an ancient being emerges as the parasite's true puppet master.
Between the Empire, the
Devourers, emboldened pirates, and a plethora of colonial
revolutionaries, are there simply too many enemies to overcome?
The mysterious Krancis, architect of the Empire's desperate gambit to survive, sends Sentinel on a collision course with the single greatest foe ever to threaten mankind. The battle to come is beyond colossal: it's a celestial clash of titans that could cost Rex everything he has left.
Dive into this enthralling mosaic of military tactics, clandestine politics, and cosmic spirituality. Feel the universe quake under the weight of monumental choices. Here, heroes are born, villains rise, and entire galaxies crumble.
Ready for the next level of space opera?
The Tides of Retribution
The Earthborn Saga Vol IV
Will the Empire crumble under the weight of betrayal and invasion?
As the galaxy is besieged by the merciless Devourers and treacherous Fringers, one ship and one man stand as humanity's final hope.
Can the enigmatic Rex, a master of shadowy psychic powers, and the massive warship, Sentinel, keep the relentless enemy at bay?
Rumors of alien infiltration and psychic omens shake the Empire to its core. Can Rex and Sentinel hold the line long enough for Krancis’ new experimental weapon to be deployed against their enemy?
As the hive-minded Devourers grow bolder and more ruthless by the day, the Empire finds itself fighting battles on multiple fronts. Eliminating high-level operatives providing intelligence to the parasite becomes as crucial as protecting the Empire's teeming population centers.
Venture into this colossal clash, where an alien hive mind, the Imperium’s internal enemies, and the ticking clock that marks humanity’s doom converge. Witness as Krancis' innovations offer a glimmer of hope, Rex pushes his psychic gifts to the limit, and the Devourers edge closer to ultimate victory over humanity.
Ready to discover what
surprises await humanity?
Immerse yourself into the
intrigue of book four of the Earthborn Saga today!
The Crusade of Vengeance
The Earthborn Saga Vol V
The tides are turning, but is it enough to save humanity?
When the Empire’s last gamble pays off, the Devourer's end finally seems inevitable.
Armed with Adler fighters and Sentinel's devastating cannon, the Devourer's reign of terror might be on the brink of ending.
But the colossal enemy has one last trick up its sleeve and is spreading a devilish evil across the Empire in a desperate bid at victory. Armed with city-sized masses of stinking Devourer flesh, these psychic nightmares that consume life are being warped in from deep space to wreak havoc on the Empire's core worlds.
And even as Rex powers Sentinel's cannon to obliterate the Devourer's latest monstrosities, a darker evil waits in the wings, a force that dwarfs all other threats.
Advanced weaponry meets arcane entities and the very fabric of the universe hangs by a thread.
Prepare to confront the real enemy in book five of the Earthborn Saga today!
A
man tore breathlessly through a frozen forest as a terrifying roar filled the
air.
“Pick up your feet, Rex, or we’re
goners!” shouted a voice only he could hear.
Rex Hunt moved as quickly as he
dared across the hard, icy snow. One slip and he’d tumble to the ground,
instantly becoming dinner for the massive bear that chased him. In his left
hand he clutched an artifact, a small glowing medallion that possessed mild
healing powers. He’d found it near the den of a mother bear and her two small
cubs, and she had resented his intrusion.
“I told you to leave it alone,”
chided the voice in his ear. “But you had to go after it anyway!”
“How about you save the lecture
until after we survive this?!” shouted Hunt, tearing through icy branches that
stabbed at him through his environment suit.
“It’s gaining on us,” said the
voice with alarm. “Double-time it to the hideout, or we’re dead meat!”
“I’m nearly there,” Hunt said,
bursting out of the forest and scaling a shallow, rocky hill. A moment later
the bear rushed into the open and paused, bellowing from deep inside her belly
and looking for Hunt. She saw him clambering up the hill and took off after
him.
“She sees us, Rex,” the voice said.
“I hope you’ve made your final arrangements.”
“Don’t worry,” Hunt said, smiling
in spite of his breathless condition. “We’re there.”
He moved around a boulder,
momentarily losing the bear. He approached a wall of solid rock and walked
through it. On the other side stood a small mirage generator of alien
manufacture. The space it hid was small, only five feet high by two feet deep.
But it was enough to conceal him if he twisted to the side and leaned his hand
on one knee.
The bear thundered up to where she
had seen him last, roared her confusion at his disappearance, and sniffed the
air.
“If that thing pokes its head
through the mirage, we’re finished.”
Hunt couldn’t respond. The
slightest sound would alert the bear. He stood absolutely still while the
creature smelled the tracks he’d left on the ground. She roared half-heartedly,
hoping to scare him out of wherever he was hiding. A minute passed anxiously,
Hunt’s body beginning to tremble as his muscles tired from holding such an
awkward stance after his desperate run. Finally the bear lowered her head and
ambled slowly back down the hill and into the forest.
“We can’t afford any more stunts
like that,” the voice said, as Hunt sighed his relief and sat down on the snowy
ground behind the mirage.
“Come on, Wellesley, you know how
it is,” Hunt replied, slipping off the helmet he wore and letting the frigid
air cool his hot nerves. “All the good stuff close to town has been taken.
We’ve got to head further out if we’re gonna find anything worth selling.
People don’t go for trinkets anymore.”
“You can’t make a profit if you’re
dead, Rex,” Wellesley said. “I wish you humans weren’t so money conscious all
the time.”
“If we weren’t I never would have
dug you up out of the snow, old friend,” Hunt said with a smile, knowing he
held the trump card. “It was the human spirit of enterprise that rescued you
from that drift you were in.”
“What a blessing, indeed,” replied
the AI sarcastically. “Drawn from the snow so I could end up in a bear’s
stomach. Oh well, perhaps I could have given her indigestion in the process.
Then my sad life would have meant something.”
Hunt shook his head but said
nothing. Wellesley was in one of his dark moods and nothing would shake him
from it. He had been built for a nobler purpose than that of assistant to a
poor greenhouse worker and part-time scavenger of artifacts.
----------------------------------
“There’s something wrong with me,” she said in a low voice. “Ever since that collapse in the snow I haven’t been the same.” She raised her hands in front of her, irrationally expecting some change to be evident. But they were just the same two hands as always. “No, whatever has come over me is in here,” she said, tapping her temple. She put her hands on the counter and gazed into the mirror. Her eyes were tired, but otherwise normal.
Walking to the master bedroom, she
found all her luggage had been piled against the bed. She dug through her bags
and found a small tablet on which she liked to write her thoughts. She turned
on the screen and sat down on the soft mattress.
“Two days ago I awoke from a
week-long coma. I have no idea what caused it. The medical staff of the prison
are baffled. I feel fine now, physically at least. But I’m moody and
short-tempered. I fear some subtle form of damage has been done to my brain that
the doctors can’t find. I did take a pretty good tumble into the snow when I
lost consciousness. Heh, maybe I shook some of my marbles loose. I guess time
will tell.
“I got a good look at the prison
when I left the hospital. It’s a steel-and-concrete affair that boasts the best
security money can buy. Security doors with armed guards divide the structure
into a million little airtight segments, all of which are locked instantly
should so much as a hair be out of place. I doubt a small army could take it.
“Sadie is making eyes at the
warden and getting swept off her feet. She thinks she’s being subtle, but I
know her too well. He’s a charmer, to be sure. But I’ve been a psychiatrist too
long to miss the signs. He’s trying to butter our toast. But I guess he could
genuinely like Sadie as well. She is a looker. And she has a warm vulnerability
that makes her appealing to many, though, ironically enough, she never forgets
(or forgives) a slight. If Kelbauskas is just pushing her buttons, he’ll
definitely end up in her little book of scratched-through names.”
Tselitel looked up from her tablet and thought for a moment.
“I’m concerned about the
civilian population on this planet. The nights are bitterly cold, and even in
my government-furnished apartment I can feel the wind beating against the
walls, sending a subtle breeze past me as I write. The hospital was warm because
it’s part of the prison, and thus surrounded by massive walls that break the
wind. But those poor people down there must be half frozen each night.
“My work begins in earnest
tomorrow. I’ll finish getting settled in, and then go over some of the
paperwork tonight. I doubt I’ll be able to see more than a handful of patients
anyway, so not much preparatory work needs to be done. It sounds like the reports
the prison has filed aren’t very useful anyway. According to Sadie they provide
no clues as to the cause of their condition.”
Setting aside her tablet, she
leaned back on the mattress and gazed at the ceiling. She tried to focus on the
perplexing task that stood before her. But she couldn’t help getting
sidetracked again and again by the strange way she was feeling after her collapse.
Annoyed at her own self-absorption, she shook her head to clear her thoughts.
But just then she was interrupted by a knock at the door. Putting her tablet
back into her bag, she slid off the bed and went to see who it was.
----------------------------------
“I think that’s our girl,” Rex said
quietly to Wellesley, slowly pressing his way through the thorn bushes and
standing up to get a better view in the darkness.
“Are you sure?”
“No. Looks like her, but I can’t be
certain.”
Stepping a few feet closer, he
squinted hard in the gloom to try and make out some detail that would inform
him for sure. The figure moved through the cold with hunched shoulders, trying
to resist the chill for as long as possible in barely adequate clothing.
“You’d think they’d give their
people better winter wear,” Wellesley commented.
The duo watched the figure cross
the expanse between the prison and the apartments.
“We’re almost out of time, Rex,”
Wellesley said. “They’ve nearly made it inside. If it is Tselitel, we’ve got to
make our move now.”
“But what if it isn’t?” Hunt
countered. “We’ll get half the complex’s guards breathing down our necks if
it’s anyone else.” He moved along the trees to try and stay parallel to the
walker. Suddenly a stick snapped under his foot. The figure looked over and saw
him.
“Wait! Please wait!” he heard
Tselitel’s voice call out. She started running towards him, seemingly making
all the noise she possibly could.
“Oh, keep your mouth shut!”
Wellesley growled, afraid the guards would hear as Hunt turned and bolted into
the forest. “Wait! Where are you going?”
“To lead her away from the
sentries,” Hunt said angrily. “Maybe she’ll be smart enough to follow.”
He dove headlong into the forest,
only pausing once the lights of the prison were no longer visible. Listening
intently, he heard her crunch across the hard, frozen ground until her feet hit
the soft, undisturbed snow near the trees. Half a minute passed before he heard
her struggling through a large drift a short distance away.
“Someone’s close,” Wellesley
whispered. “But I can’t tell if it’s her or not.”
“It’s her,” Hunt whispered. “The
patrols would be flashing their lights everywhere.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Lead her farther away,” Hunt said,
as the swishing grew near. “I don’t want some chance guard to relieve himself
in the forest and hear us talking.”
Pushing off a tree he’d been
leaning against, he walked slowly south, guiding Tselitel farther from her
apartment and deeper into the wilderness, pausing periodically to ensure she
was still on his trail.
“Any farther and her feet will
freeze off,” Wellesley said. “The sentries can’t possibly find us this far out.
Let’s double back and get her.”
“The planet agrees with you,” Hunt
said, a powerful intuition instructing him to retrace his steps at just that
moment. Very slowly he walked back, his ears pricked for the slightest sound of
Tselitel’s movements.
“Just ahead, Rex,” Wellesley said.
“I can hear her.”
“Me too,” Hunt said in a loud
whisper, not really caring if she heard him.
He heard her jerk in the darkness
at the sound of his voice, a gasp escaping her lips.
“I think you startled her,”
Wellesley said.
“Good,” Hunt thought, still burned
at all the noise she’d made in chasing him. He decided to get a little closer
before addressing her, just in case she bolted. Moving slowly through the snow,
his feet carving little valleys, he got within ten feet of her when she
suddenly made a run for it. He heard three footfalls, and then a loud thwack as
her head smashed against a low branch. The sound of her body falling into the
snow was unmistakable. He strode up to her, seeing the slightest glimmer of
light in her eyes as her lids lowered and she lost consciousness.
The Beast Emerges
Mayday!
Mayday! This is imperial vessel Rising Dawn to any human forces in the vicinity
of Delta-13. I am in need of immediate assistance! Can anyone read me?”
Captain Galerius Lucan checked the
rear-facing cameras on his small vessel and saw a pair of Devourer fighter
craft closing fast. Vile green globs of acidic filth shot forth from strange,
mouthlike gunports mounted beside their fuselages, narrowly missing his craft.
Several had already hit the ship, dealing serious damage to the unshielded
vessel.
“I repeat, this is the transport
vessel Rising Dawn! I need help now! For the love of all things holy, somebody
help me, please! I have passengers aboard!”
Throwing the clumsy vessel into a
lethargic barrel roll, he managed to avoid two of the three blobs that chased
after him. The third landed on one of the port engines, burning through its
metal housing in seconds and disabling it.
“I’ve just lost one of my engines!”
he screamed into his microphone.
“Imperial vessel Rising Dawn, this
is Colonel Pinchon of the Black Fang pirates. We have received your distress
call, and are coming to help. Hang on.”
Stunned that the gravelly voice he
heard belonged to a pirate, Lucan was nevertheless relieved.
“Probably rescuing me so they can
keep the ship for themselves,” he thought, dodging another pair of blasts as he
did so. “But at least I’ll be alive!”
He saw a pair of nimble fighters
form up behind his alien assailants and open fire with their small rapid fire
railguns. The first few bursts missed as the pirates found their ranges. Then
they zeroed in on one of them, unloading a devastating blast into its sole
engine. Instantly the tiny craft exploded, severely damaging its partner and
sending it tumbling away from them in a wild spin.
“Colonel Pinchon to Rising Dawn,
your six is clear. You’d better come with us. They probably let out a distress
signal of their own before we took ‘em down. They’ll be crawling all over this
area in minutes.”
“Where are we going?” Lucan asked,
quickly forgetting his past danger and worried what his rescuers intended to do
with him.
“To the only place that’s still
halfway safe for humans,” Pinchon said. “The Black Fang base on Delta-13.”
Dubiously Lucan fell in behind his
escorts, who cut their speed so the limping transport could keep up.
Far in the distance his scanner
showed that the largest Devourer vessels were floating just above the planet.
The only ships still in orbit were fighter craft, like the ones that had been
on him just moments before. Moving to the opposite side of Delta-13, he
descended through a dense layer of clouds and found himself in the middle of a
violent snowstorm.
“I-I can’t see anything,” he said
over the radio. “And my instruments aren’t showing any base.”
“That’s because it’s camouflaged,”
replied Pinchon, a smile audible on his lips. “Don’t worry, we’ll guide you
right to it. Just stay on our six.”
“Affirmative,” he said, clicking
off the radio and leaning back in his seat to try and calm himself. The storm
beat against the transport, trying to knock it off course. But with effort he
managed to stay with his escorts until they slowed into a stationary hover two
hundred feet above the ground.
“The landing pad is directly
beneath you,” Pinchon spoke over the radio. “Begin your descent. I’ll let you
know if you need to adjust your approach.”
“Roger,” Lucan replied, flicking
the switch to engage landing mode and ever so gingerly lowering the Rising Dawn
to the pad below.
“A little to your left,” Pinchon
said. “That’s it. Nice and slow. The wind’s picking up. Just a tad to the
right. A little more. There you go.”
Moments later the vessel’s landing
gear touched the pad, and a green light blinked on to show that the ship was
securely grounded. Detaching his harness and leaving the cockpit, he found the
dozen passengers nervously talking among themselves, trying to figure out what
had happened.
“There’s the Captain!” a
middle-aged woman said. “He can tell us what’s going on.”
“Where are we?” a man asked. “This
doesn’t look like the prison complex.”
“It’s not,” replied Lucan, trying
to find the words to inform twelve confused imperial employees that they were
now the guests of the most feared criminal organization in the fringe. Before
he could elaborate a knock was heard on the hatch embedded in the ship’s
starboard side. Leaving the passengers to guess among themselves, he turned and
walked back towards the cockpit, stopping just short of it. He put his hands on
the lever that controlled the door and hesitated for a moment, his mind racing
over what his distress call might have gotten them in for. Then he braced
himself and gave the old lever a firm twist.
-------------------------------------
Hunt could hear Tselitel muttering
prayers in the darkness next to him as the freighter tore its way down the
tunnel.
“We are rapidly approaching
our destination,” Pinchon called from the cockpit. “But the controls are dead.”
“What do you mean?” asked Hunt.
“I mean I’m not flying this bird,”
the colonel replied. “We’re no longer warping under our own power. We’re being dragged
to our destination by force.”
“Just what I like to hear,”
Wellesley said sarcastically.
“How can you joke?” asked Tselitel,
her nerves tighter than a bowstring. “We could die any second now!”
“I’ve been in too many
life-or-death situations to even blink anymore,” the ancient AI replied. “Death
will come when it will come. Besides, I don’t think this is the end for us.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Call it an intuition,” he said
calmly.
“Hold on to something, folks!”
Pinchon said. “We’re about to break out of warp!”
Just as he said this the ship
dropped into normal space, traveling at tremendous speed.
“Colonel, what’s that we’re heading
towards?” asked Gromyko, pointing at a massive green orb that grew alarmingly
larger with each second.
“That’s Epsilon-4,” he said,
unfastening his restraints and bolting out of the seat. “And we’re about to
crash into it like a bullet.”
“Well, stop us!” exclaimed the
smuggler.
“I can’t. Even if I could turn the
ship around and burn the engines on full blast, we’d never lose enough momentum
to keep from crashing. Our only hope now is the escape pods.” Tapping a few
keys on the dashboard, a series of small doors opened on the inside walls of
the freighter. “Get into the pods!” he ordered the others.
“But we’ll starve down there!”
Tselitel protested.
“Each pod is equipped with a
survival kit and a radio,” explained Pinchon quickly. “Now get in!”
-------------------------------------
“Look! Over there!” she said urgently, pointing toward a little dot of light that grew as it neared. “It must be one of the others!”
“Are you two okay?” asked Milo once
he could make them out in the gloom. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“Not far from it!” Tselitel said,
using her good hand to push off the ground.
“Some kind of…dark creature was chasing
us,” Hunt said, nodding to where it had disappeared. “Fast, aggressive. Like
some kind of–.”
“Evil spirit?” asked Gromyko,
approaching unseen from the side. In a flash Hunt had the light and one of his
handguns leveled on the smuggler’s smiling face.
“Antonin!” Tselitel said, putting
her arms around his neck and hugging him as Hunt lowered his weapon.
“Could have gotten your stupid head
shot off, pulling a stunt like that,” Hunt grumbled, sliding the pistol back
into his belt. “You should have shined your light at us.”
“Can’t. I lost mine.”
“Lost it?” asked Tselitel, pulling
away from him. “But…those creatures only back off when a light is on them! You
could have been killed, or worse!”
“That’s why I lost mine,” he
grinned cryptically.
“What have you got up your sleeve?”
asked Milo, crossing his arms, an inquisitive look on his face.
“Well, one of those creatures
cornered me in a cave,” Gromyko began casually, cocking onto one leg. “I
managed to outwit it and get it backed into the corner it had chosen for me.
Last I knew it was wailing under the beam of my light, unable to get out.”
“So you trapped it?” Tselitel
asked.
“Uh huh,” he said, brushing a
little dirt off his arm. “It was not the first one to learn that you cannot
corner Gromyko! I am quicksilver! A shadow dancing upon the wall!”
“Don’t say shadow,” Tselitel said,
shivering at the thought. “But what are those things?”
“They are death personified,” the
smuggler said. “Some kind of evil that surpasses all our understanding.”
“What makes you so sure?” the
doctor asked.
“This does,” he replied, raising
his arm to show the underside. A glimmering scar of sheerest black made her
gasp. “All the cells are dead. The instant it touched me I felt the life go out
of them. It’s a miracle that I got away as luckily as I did. It merely grazed
the surface, killing only the first layer of skin. I can’t imagine what it
would have done had it seized my head.”
How long have you been
writing?
I’ve been writing for over 15 years!
What makes a good
story?
Relatable characters solving a problem. There are a lot of
other factors that can be involved, but I find that essentially if you can “get”
where the characters are coming from, and they are grappling with an issue that
has compelling meaning for them, the story is instantly interesting.
It’s outside of writing, but it’s one of my favorite examples
of this principle in practice is the show This Old House.
On its face, it’s a home improvement program where an old
house is gutted and renovated into a dream house. There is no drama,
practically no action, follows a known formula with no plot twists, and takes a
long time to complete. So there are none of the usual tricks or methods of
catching attention.
But the show is absolutely iconic, and practically everyone
has flipped over to it briefly and kept watching until the segment was over.
I believe it’s because the show has a very relatable cast,
and they are grappling with a problem, (renovation), that means a lot to them. And since they take it completely
seriously, we feel like we should take it seriously, and the show has instant
meaning for us.
And I’ve found over and over again that the books that have
the strongest appeal for me, consist of relatable characters working to
overcome a problem that matters to them.
How long on average
does it take you to write a book?
It depends on a few factors, but an Earthborn Saga book is around
2-3 months to write. First I feel out the main plot elements and get a sense of
the tone that I want to hit with the book, and that usually takes me around 2
weeks. During this time, I also work on the book’s lore, formulate situations
for the characters to explore, and come up with elements to give texture to the
narrative.
Once the groundwork is done and I have a feeling for where
I’m going, I start in on the book itself. The books are around 180,000 to
200,000 words, and I work with a goal of writing a minimum of 4,000 words per
day. So when you count in days off that comes out to about 2 months of writing.
Then after that, I take a week or so for editing and
proofreading and get the book ready for publishing.
What do you do to
unwind and relax?
My favorites are to visit with friends, sing karaoke, and go
dancing.
Do you have any “side
stories” about the characters?
Absolutely, I have a short story called “Hero of the People”
that goes into some of the backstory for Antonin Gromyko, and details an
adventure from the early days of the Underground.
The story is a free download from my website stevenbissett.com
Are your characters
based off real people or did they all come entirely from your imagination?
I’ve drawn some characteristics off of real people, and
that’s added some texture, but the characters themselves spring entirely from
my imagination.
Do your characters
seem to hijack the story or do you feel like you have the reigns of the
story?
I feel really like the narrative unfolds naturally and
according to it’s own logic, so it’s almost like watching life happen before
me.
If you’re familiar with tabletop RPGs, a really great analogy
is to think of it like a game of Dungeons and Dragons. Where I am the Dungeon
Master, and it’s my job to create the narrative and the overall script for the
adventure to follow.
However the individual character interactions are handled by
the player characters. Working from their backgrounds and personalities, they
are all unscripted and react off of each other like billiards balls.
What I really like about it is it gives a very natural feel
to the story and dialogue, and it makes each situation unpredictable.
Do the characters all
come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write?
It’s kind of a mix, but a lot of the characters come up in
the process of storytelling.
Sometimes what will even happen is I create a short-term
character for a limited engagement, but I like the character a lot or he
compliments the other characters, so I write him into more of a major role.
Steven Bissett has been writing stories for over fourteen years. An
eclectic author, he excels at seamlessly blending genres together to
produce unique stories. With compelling characters, dynamic plots,
and a crisp, candid style that holds nothing back, Bissett continues
to delight readers of every age.
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The covers look great. Sounds like a good book.
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