Friday 14 September 2018

***Blog Tour*** The Kithseeker by M. K. Wiseman



The Kithseeker
France, 1680

Liara's defense of the Wizard Nagarath has rendered Anisthe incantate--bereft of magick--but even this cannot
guarantee her safety. Because the death of her father-in-magick would seal the girl's fate, necessity demands
she and her wizard maintain a watchful eye on the war mage, while protecting her from his dark designs.

Anisthe has embarked on a journey across Europe, aided by his half-fey manservant with an agenda all his own.
They search for a legendary mirror that contains the world's most powerful magick. Although the stuff of
fairytales, the possibility of its existence compels Nagarath and Liara to seek the artifact themselves. Both know
that should Anisthe lay claim to that power, Liara would be at his mercy and not even Nagarath could save her.

Thus, the pair find themselves at Versailles, surrounded by agents who ferret out magick users and destroy them.
Uncertain who is friend and who is foe, with their rival on their heels, they must discover the mirror before
Anisthe releases its evil, or worse, it lays claim to Liara's magick and brings doom upon them all.
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A little bit about The Kithseeker....
POV

Amongst all the choices that one can make when penning a novel, point of view is one of the more interesting so far as I’m concerned. Plot, characters, setting, story devices (such as magic) … those, for me at least, feel “set”. I’m thinking something along the lines that the story really happened and the author is just a chronicler. (One might argue then that word choice, the telling itself, is the really interesting choice, then. And I would agree that it is, to be sure, but the subset of point of view is part of why word choice is so fascinating.)
For The Kithseeker, book 2 of the Bookminder series, I’ve kept with the close 3rd person view point. This means scene changes when viewpoint changes. This means my editors sometimes want to tear their hair out because Liara uses contractions and Nagarath pointedly does not. Then you add in a cast of other characters and who knows what and why and what they think about it and: fun! And choices.
Pacing. Who is going to be the lens for the reader? Why? Why not? What impact does character X’s emotional state have here and am I ‘cheating’ by sharing the scene from character Y’s viewpoint? Close 3rd point of view from several main characters over the course of a 400-page interpersonal drama results in a strange algebra.
Kithseeker, for example, begins with the view point of the antagonist. For those coming in to the series here (I personally recommend that even if some reader reviews do not, but then I actively seek to read series out of order) it’s an odd choice. It, I suppose, is an odd beginning for those who’ve read The Bookminder. For me, it was never even a choice. Like character, plot, setting, the story demanded this of me. I had no say in the matter. It goes back to the ‘chronicling’ of it. History is written by the victors – Winston Churchill. And I will often claim to folks that, this being historical fantasy, this tale of wizardly warfare really happened and official history chose to ignore it/forget it/actively cover it up. So what does it say when the antagonist from book 1 is the voice that starts book 2? I suppose I’ll let you be the judge of that.

The Kithseeker, excerpt, Chapter 1:

The very act of breathing felt different to the mage, as soon as he’d lost his Gift. Eyes newly opened to
the bleak reality found themselves stung by the acrid smoke of fire and spent magicks. Even the faintest
whisper of sound: harsh and tearing at his ears.

Anisthe of Vrsar, war mage of legend and counselor to kings, lay unmoving amongst the wreckage of
what had only earlier that day been his grand foyer. And though he’d done so countless times since the
duel’s conclusion, he delved once more into his soul, seeking for the thread— any sign that his powers
had survived the battle.

The result was the same: Darkness. An empty, yowling hole where his Art ought to have been. A
shuddering seized him, building from the toes, blossoming upward into knees, arms, leaving him
quaking all over.

Incantate.

A fate worse than death for a mage.

How dare she. How dare that little minx curse me so. Even as he gave in to the angry venting, Anisthe
could not help but feel a grudging admiration for the tactical move.

Liara. His aurenaurae. Daughter-in-magick.

And I with no magick . . .

The shuddering became a wracking cough. It forced Anisthe into motion. He had to get out of there,
away from the smoke which threatened to finish him. Bewildered, for it was the first time in memory
that he had to deal with the elements as a mere man, Anisthe crawled forward toward the door. For the
briefest of moments, he was tempted to stop and let the suffocating air take him.

But no. Even miserable, begging for death’s quiet kiss, self-preservation kicked in. He couldn’t die. Not
if he wanted Liara to live.

Oh, and he wanted her to live. Aurenaurae. Made of magick. No discomfort would keep him from such
power. He’d meant his words to Nagarath and to Liara. His was a temporary state. He would get his
power back. And then? He was coming for her.



Author Bio –
M. K. Wiseman has degrees in animation/video and library science – both from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Today, her office is a clutter of storyboards and half-catalogued collections of too, too many books. (But, really, is there such a thing as too many books?) When she’s not mucking about with stories, she’s off playing brač or lying in a hammock in the backyard of her Cedarburg home that she shares with her endlessly patient husband.

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