Lysander and Flynn's Bizarre Concerto (Character Art!)

So...I've kind of gotten obsessed lately with the anime/manga JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, and I really love the art style of it because it's more comic book-esque than a lot of anime, so I recently started to try out that style for myself, which I've been having so much fun with I decided to do my own characters in the same style ^_^  (If you're not familiar with JoJo, it's kind of known for it's over the top poses. I didn't go all out, but we still have some dramatic action shots going on here XD)

So I hope you enjoy these pictures and the time-lapse video I did of myself drawing Lysander

Flynn (Eidolon) 

 Sinclair

Lysander

(Sorry for the quality of this video, I don't have a tripod for my phone so I had to set it on a stack of books which didn't work out very well XD)

Character Encounters feat. the Cast of Blood Ties!

For the final day of Indie E-Con I wanted to do something fun and take part in Kendra's "Character Encounters" which is a writing link-up she runs on her blog where the author writes about encountering their characters in a place Kendra chooses. She came up with a special one for the E-Con where you encounter the characters at a physical Indie (not)E-Con! I just thought this sounded like a lot of fun, and figured you guys would hopefully find it entertaining so I decided to give it a go. Go check out the other Character Encounters people have done for E-Con as well right here! Also visit Kendra's blog and see the rest of E-Con here.

Disclaimer: This is officially the strangest thing I have ever written. But I guess every author has to try to meta thing at least once :P This kind of turned into more of a satire on just my writing process with some in-jokes, but I hope it's still entertaining. Enjoy!

Character Encounters

Featuring the Cast of the Modern Tales of Na Fianna

Indie Con was a bustling place; so many fantastic indie authors out there that I got to chat with throughout the day about their books and the writing life in general. A couple of my bestie writer pals and I had done a panel earlier, which was part of what we fondly called our “Tour of Destruction” which was the ongoing tour of signings we did for people. Lot’s of dark humor. Lots of coffee.

            Now however, it was my turn to moderate a panel, which was made up of my own characters, and boy were there a bunch of fans waiting for them.

            “Hey everyone, I’m Hazel, and I’m about to introduce the brave heroes of the Modern Tales of Na Fianna series,” I said to the crowd who burst into applause. “Come on out, Lady and Gents!”

            They filed out from back stage. I knew Eamon wasn’t going to like this at all, hating to be the center of attention but of course there were also the ones like Keevan who were eating it up, and of course Deaglan wasn’t unhappy about all the fangirls.

            They took their seats, and I waited for the crowd to calm down before I started. “So, we’ve just gotten through book two, ‘An Earthly King’, and book three is due to be out the summer of 2017, but to avoid spoilers for anyone who is not yet caught up, we’re only going to be talking about the first book, ‘Blood Ties’. So, Ciran: as the main character, what are some of your thoughts overall?”

            “Well, our mission took a lot out of all of us, but we are happy to be here today to see all of you. I think, to avoid any spoilers, I will just say that we kicked butt and leave it at that.”

            “Some of us kicked more butt than others,” Keevan piped up.

            “Okay,” I cut in, knowing this could go on forever if it was allowed to continue. “So, Eamon, you’re the star of Book Two, what do you think about that?”

            Eamon shrugged. “Well, you know, it is what it is. I suppose everyone has to have a part in the story.”

            “Come on, Your Royal Selflessness, you loved it and you know it,” Killian cut in. “Mainly, I liked it, because it also meant I got to be in it more. There, see? I don’t pretend to be all humble.”

            “Oh, don’t worry, Killian,” I said. “No one ever accused you of being humble.” I waited for the jeers of the others and the laughter of the audience to die down before I opened the floor. “So, are there any fans who want to ask some questions?”

            Hands went up and I pointed at one of them.

            “Hi, my question is for Caitlin,” the girl said. “How was it having to be the only girl on the team?”

            Caitlin laughed. “Well, I grew up with two brothers, plus Eamon and Oran running around so I was pretty used to it. Honestly, it didn’t bother me. We all had our job to do and when you’re in that kind of situation, you just end up doing the job and watching your comrade’s back, no matter if they’re a boy or girl.”

            I picked another fan and she was handed the mic. “So, this is for Keevan. I was wondering what is your favorite kind of yarn to crochet with?”

            Keevan started. “I don’t crochet. Next question.”

            Riordan shook his head, turning back to the fan. “Of course he does. He just doesn’t like you to know it. He crocheted the scarf he’s wearing.”

            “I did not, shut up!” Keevan protested.

            “He did, I watched him,” Tierney offered. Deagland nodded in agreement.

            “Well it’s relaxing…sometimes!” Keevan said defensively and slumped back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Can someone please ask another question?”

            “I like your sweater by the way,” Riordan told the girl before she handed the mic off again.

            A young boy got the mic next. “I have a question for Riordan.” Keevan proceeded to fake snore loudly so I shot him a look. “What’s it like being a berserker?”

            “Well, it takes a lot of training,” Riordan said. “You have to make sure you manage your anger. Which is why I do breathing exercises and sometimes yoga. I also find knitting to be very relaxing.”

            “Loser,” Keevan said, muffling the word with a cough before Ciran smacked him across the back of the head.

            “But you also get to be really scary in battle,” Riordan said with a smile.

            “Cool!” the boy exclaimed.

            The mic was handed off to the next fan I picked and this girl turned to Killian. “So, Killian, my question is for you.”

            “Finally,” Killian said as a loud aside to Eamon before he turned with a smile back to the girl. “What is it?”

            “Why can’t you ever just give Eamon some peace?”

            Killian scoffed, offended. “Excuse me? I am his captain of the guard! I do not have time to give him peace! His Royal Introvert just needs to learn to appreciate it!”

            “Besides,” Eamon cut in. “If he didn’t, I would probably never get any kingly things done. I would be lost without my captain of the guard.”

            “You know that’s right,” Killian grumbled.

            We moved to the next question. “So, I heard that Eamon is going to have to choose a bride to be his queen in Book Two, is that true?”

            Eamon groaned, putting a hand over his face and Killian quickly cut in. “I’ll take this one.” He gave a wicked grin. “Yes. But you’ll have to read the book to find out how that goes.”

            “Spoiler alert—horribly,” Keevan said.

            “Alright, next question!” I said, looking around the audience.

            “Hey! How come I didn’t get to be on the panel?!”

            “Prince Oberon!” someone in the audience cried in delight.

            “That’s right, at least someone cares,” Oberon said, smiling at the various fangirls swarming him. “Really? I’m the Prince of the bloody Unseelie and you don’t even give me a spot on the panel?”

            “Oberon, if you were here, no one else would get a chance to answer any questions, and that’s saying something when you would be up against people like Killian,” I told him.

            “Hey!” Killian protested. “I’m considerate of others!”

            “Sure you are,” Caitlin said, smiling at her brother.

            “Unless there are mini quiches, because then you shove anyone out of the way to get to them,” Keevan said.

            “Okay, so I like mini quiches. So what?”

            “Tell that to your waistline in Book Three,” Eamon told him.

            Killian turned around indignantly. “Really? Etu, Eamon? And here I was thinking you were like a brother to me.”

            An argument soon broke out and the convention security had to escort everyone out. Pretty soon, I was the only one left, along with Oberon, who came up on stage and took a seat, pouring himself a complimentary glass of water after picking up a spilled glass that had been sitting on the table.

            “So, do my adoring fans have any questions for me?” he asked the audience.

            I sighed. “And there you have it everyone; the essential writing process of Book Three.”

           

Fin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Also this was something I meant to do back during the Earthly King blog tour, but here is a sketch dump of some Na Fianna sketches I have done so I hope you enjoy those too :)

(from left to right-then down: 1. Killian and Eamon, 2. Keevan and Riordan, 3.Tierney and Ciran, 4. Deaglan, 5. Keevan and Riordan, 6. Ciran and Caitlin, 7.Deaglan, 8. Jarlath and Gorlan, 9. King Lorcan, 10. Riordan, 11. Jarlath and Gorlan, 12. Eamon and Killian)

BLOOD TIES Now Available for Purchase!!!

Blood Ties is finally out and available for purchase! Yay! I've been so excited to share this one with everyone, and not only this but the whole series as well as this is just the first book. 


I have really enjoyed writing about Ciran and his friends and I hope you will all enjoy reading about them too!







To celebrate the release I have set up a Goodreads Giveaway for one signed copy of the book (It will also include some swag but apparently you're not allowed to say that on Goodreads so shh!) I apologize that the giveaway has not started yet, but Goodreads changed their policy again and apparently they have to start seven days after you make one -_-

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Blood Ties

by Hazel B. West

Giveaway ends March 18, 2016.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

But if you don't win the giveaway, or don't want to wait to read it, you can buy copies from the links below:



Createspace Paperback 

Paperback from Amazon

Smashwords Ebook

Kindle Ebook

Also, just so you know (and because as a Page-Flipper  I have to promote paper books over ebooks) People who buy the paperback will get two exclusive recipes in the back of the book along with the first chapter of the second book in the series An Earthly King, so buy the paperback! 


And for some more fun for the release, I thought I'd share a couple of my sketch pages with you that I did while I was coming up with the characters.

Goblins

Na Fianna

Keep and eye out for more, because I'm going to be running a Virtual Book Tour at the end of the month to promote Blood Ties where you can learn more about it. In the meantime, if you have any questions, let me know in the comments!

And don't forget to add Blood Ties to read on Goodreads!

Slainte,

Hazel

My new Book! Introducing Michael Crandon!!

I know I promised this last month, but, well, one thing led to another and I just kept forgetting or putting it off, but FINALLY, I am very ready to introduce you to the new book I'm writing and my brand new cast of characters!

The Book: A Company of Rogues: a Michael Crandon Mystery-- Being the Misfortunes of a Retired Jewel Thief, a Young Con Artist, and a Romance Writer

That pretty much sums it up. Michael Crandon is a retired jewel thief living in 1930s London. He prefers to live a quiet life, having given up thieving after a heist went horribly wrong, and wants nothing more than to lie low, drink tea, knit, and go about his business--consulting for other thieves who need advice. Until one day, an old 'friend' shows up on his doorstep saying that the emerald necklace Michael had tried and failed to steal five years before has been taken, and his old enemy who worked with him on the original heist, thinks he took it and is out for Michael's blood. If that's not bad enough, young Will Reilly, a budding con artist, shows up at Michael's flat on the run from the same man who after him. Michael's quiet existence is shattered beyond repair, and he's forced to do something about it before he can go back to the life he had come to enjoy. So he decides (with much grumbling) to enlist the help of Reilly, his Russian friend, Victor, and Justine Aberline, a romance writer and Michael's sweetheart, to find the necklace before his enemies can catch him.


So, yes, I'm writing another mystery novel, but it is totally different from Anthony Maxwell. In fact, Michael is probably the polar opposite of Anthony in every aspect, which is what makes writing him after Anthony so fun. I've wanted to write a story about a jewel thief for a while--little did a know, that a jewel thief like Michael Crandon would cross my mind however. I had in mind that dashing rogue, but Michael is the cautious homebody, who never takes unnecessary risks, and might even come across as a coward on occasion.

I'm not really sure if I would consider this story a Noir, it doesn't have all the components of the actual genre Noir, but it's got the reluctant/antihero (for Michael is very much that) and the kind of underlying feel of dreariness, along with the theme of human feelings/condition. However, Michael's narration has a definitely sarcastic and witty undertone. It's definitely more of a character driven mystery than "A Case of Poisons" which was a plot driven mystery. There's a lot of realization and soul searching in Michael's story, and will be much more as the series progresses. There's underlying themes of insecurity and trying to come to terms with yourself. There's also the typical storylines I love to write about such as friendship, true love born of a natural easiness between Michael and Justine (as in, they KNOW they will always love each other, and don't worry about that at all) and of course father-son angst and fluff as well.

The Characters

Michael Crandon

Michael is the protagonist and narrator of the story. He's an ex-jewel thief, and now consults for other thieves for a price to make his living. When he's not consulting, he's enjoying a good cup of tea or knitting, which relaxes him.

Will Reilly

Reilly is a young budding con artist (though he's not very good) who got on the wrong side of Michael's old enemy, Randall, and was forced to seek help from Michael who he had heard offered thieves advice. Michael's not sure what to think of the young man, but Reilly tries his best to get into his good graces.

Justine Aberline 

Justine is Michael's sweetheart, having met him while researching for one of her novels. She's also a romance writer under the pen name 'Phyllis Paperwhite'. She often helps Michael fix his problems, and enjoys random forays out onto the streets in disguise.










Charles Randall  

Randall is Michael's old enemy, having been the man who ruined the original heist of the emerald necklace and thus forced Michael  into an early retirement. He's a rich London celebrity whose random fits of rage are the only thing that betray the evilness under the rich playboy exterior.









Inspector Dowd

Dowd is a corrupt Scotland Yard inspector who nearly tracked down Michael's involvement in the first heist, but without any proof, could not convict him. In possession of a sadistic mind (and toadies who are just as bad) he enjoys tormenting Michael in the hopes he'll catch him at doing something illegal.










~~~

And now for a special treat, I'm going to share with you the first chapter! Please note that this is still in it's first draft stage, so content is subject to change. If you see any typos or have any suggestions, let me know! I'd like to get some feedback.

Chapter One

In which an “old friend” comes to visit

I hate it when old friends are presumptuous enough to come visit. Especially when the visit consists of more of a plea for help than a social call and the old friend never was a friend to begin with. There are so few people from my past that I would actually consider friends that I can’t even remember them. But that morning someone who considered himself my friend—despite any denial on my part—made himself present at my door as I was having my tea and toast which is a sacrament in itself. But that was where this all started, and what led me to eventually take up a pen and write this chronicle at the bidding of a writer I know. I do not presume to be as good a wordsmith as that certain lady writer who holds my heart, but I have found it hard ever to say nay to anything she told me. Perhaps my only weakness at the end of the day.

            But my writing endeavours are not important. What was, was that I was interrupted in my morning tea when I had just taken up the paper to read by a knock on my door. It firmly stated on the plaque outside my door that my hours of operation were 11 AM to 5 PM and usually my clients paid attention to that, due to my occupation, perhaps; however old friends don’t think they need to follow hours of operation when visiting apparently, even when turning up at my office. The fact that it was also my residence was irrelevant.

            I got up anyway, looking at my watch and griping that it was only 8:30 but opened the door anyway, for money was money and I was always short of it.

            Little did I expect the face that presented itself to me, however. I was almost of a mind to shut the door again, but perhaps it was the utmost look of pleading on the man’s face that made me keep it open just enough to hear his tale of woe. I was an idiot because of that If I had known even a fraction of what would follow I would have shut the door and bolted it into the bargain.

            “Michael Crandon,” he said, relief clearly showing in his expression and the relaxing of his figure as he saw me. “I feared you had moved on, it was only luck that I heard you were living in this flat now.”

            No luck of mine. “Frank Hobbles,” I stated in return, looking him up and down. “I didn’t think to see you again.” I took my old acquaintance in with the practiced eye of one who can take in details quickly. He was fatter than when I had last seen him, though he had never had my slim frame even then, and he had the look of a man who was harried mercilessly on normal occasion, and I had a feeling it was not from a demanding wife. I took a guess he was working as a clerk or secretary—which ink stains on his cuffs also indicated—for a particularly odious personage. Even now he was looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone to be following him. He clutched his hat in both hands and was wringing it nearly out of shape.

            “Might I come in, Michael?” he asked, pleading creeping into his voice ever so slightly. I did my best to ignore that. I knew exactly what happened when one’s old acquaintances stop by to visit. But as I said, money was short, and he looked like he would be willing to pay the price for my services. Thrice, perhaps, if I was feeling particularly surly after the chat.

            “All right,” I told him.

            “Oh, thank you, Michael!” he said, another flush of relief washing over him, but I stopped him before he could come in the door, holding up a hand.

            “It’s five pounds at the door for consulting fee,” I told him firmly.

            “But surely, an old friend…” he began.

            “It’s for my tea budget,” I told him. “If I can afford nothing else, I at least like to keep a stock of tea. That and knitting relax me.”

            “You’ve changed since the old days,” Hobbles said as he grudgingly fished for a wallet and handed me my five pounds before I let him in the door and closed it behind him.

            “You haven’t,” I muttered as I led him into the kitchen where my tea was cooling. I resumed my seat to finish my breakfast as we talked. I didn’t bother to offer him tea, though he poured himself a cup anyway, much to my chagrin. I had a bit of comfort knowing it was cold by now, however.

            “I do apologize for coming here,” Hobbles said. I decided to give him that. “It was just that I had no where else to turn and my news will mean as much to you as to me. And when I heard you consulted now, I thought you might be able to help me.”

            I suppose I should introduce the reader to my profession, if one could actually call it that. I was a retired jewel thief, and I was quite good in the day. So good, in fact, that other thieves wanted me to help them on heists. This is what got me into trouble in the first place, but I’ll explain more about that later. In short, there was an accident, everything went wrong, and I retired to live a quiet life away from authorities who thought me responsible for crimes I didn’t commit. I would have been content living my life thusly, settling down with a good woman—I had one in mind—but I couldn’t get a respectable job with my past, and I was living on the streets. That was when I started my side job. A lot of thieves knew my notoriety and they would seek me out for advice on their heists. I began charging, and within the course of a year, I had become a criminal consultant—an occupation of my own making—and a well known one at that, being, safely, the only one. I became so well known that I had made a tidy enough sum to rent my flat which was an awful shabby place, but it was clean and it was my home, and the landlord didn’t ask any questions as long as I got my rent to him on time. It was a good job, something I knew how to do with confidence, and usually kept me as a neutral party which was perhaps even more important.

            However, I knew that blessing was not likely to continue when Hobbles had to open his gob again and explain why he was here, blurting it out all in one go as he always had when trying to get something important across.

            “Charles Randall is back, and he’s out for your blood!”

            I like to say I am not a very excitable person, and I usually try to keep a very impassive, sardonic attitude toward life. I had learned to calm my nerves from my years of thievery, but this surpassed all my training and I spat tea over the table, with my surprise. Frank Hobbles wiped some from his face with his handkerchief, that flustered clerk look on his face again, as he glanced across the table at me as if I would spring up at him. Likely to his disappointment, I was done with my outburst and poured myself another cup of tea.

            “When and why?” was all I asked.

            Hobbles reached over and took up the paper I had never gotten to read for his arrival. He unfolded it and presented the front page to me, the headline clearly obvious: __ EMERALD NECKLACE STOLEN! THIEF ON LOOSE IN LONDON!

                  “The necklace’s gone, Michael,” Hobbles said quietly as I took the paper and hurriedly read through the report. “It’s gone, and Randall thinks you stole it.”

            I cursed, vehemently wishing that I had bolted the door in Frank Hobbles face as I well knew I should. But before the story can progress, the reader must first hear an explanation as to why this news caused so much trouble for me.

Also, I have released my formerly "secret" Pintrest board of Michael Crandon goodness, so you can now view that here and see all the awesome pics of the people I found who actually look a lot like my characters as well as other things from the book. I'll be posting more about Michael soon and will be writing a post about reluctant heroes as well in honor of him. 

Pintrest board: http://pinterest.com/artfulscribbler/michael-crandon-co/