Description
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About the author:
Although the author of several local histories, and numerous articles on the topics of American and military history, antiques and collectibles, Henderson’s first love is fiction. Her work in the museum and history fields enables a special insight into creating fantasy worlds. The descendent of a coal-miner's daughter and an aviation flight engineer, her writing reflects the contrasts of her heritage and crosses genres from historical westerns to science fiction and fantasy. In the world of romantic fantasy, she is the author of the Dragshi Chronicles and The Windmaster Novels. Her stand-alone novels include the dragon magic fantasy, Fire and Amulet, and the dark fantasy, Imprisoned in Stone. In her books, she invites you to join her on travels through the stars, or among fantasy worlds of the imagination.
What inspired you to write your book?
Windmaster Legacy is the second book set in the world of Windmaster. The story of the archmage Dal and Ellspeth, captain of Sea Falcon, haunted me enough that I again put pen to paper. I didn’t want to leave the world of the falaire, and even though I don’t like the deep blue, I liked hanging out with mages and stayed with them.
Since Windmaster did not end on a cliff-hanger, imagination had to work overtime to come up with another story to tell. Eventually, Lord Dal and Captain Ellspeth told of their plans to journey to his mother’s homeland. A documentary on the Australian outback and a picture of Uluru (also known as Ayer’s Rock) provided the setting. While I know I will never visit Australia in person, the research for and writing of Windmaster Legacy allowed me to visit there vicariously.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Amorphous shapes detached from the stygian shadows along the wall. Magesight turned what had been unrecognizable blurs into armed
men. Dozens more spilled out of the open gates of the compound or leaped up from the low ditch that bordered the road. Their yells resounded off the wall and sent the herd of true horses scrambling.
Hands grabbed at Ellspeth. Her sword slashed. One of the grasping hands fell away. Without a command, Zethar spun on her haunches. The mare reared and with a scream of anger struck out. A chime sounded as a sword hit the street. Zethar’s front feet dropped to the cobbles. Her iron-hard rear hooves kicked backward. Two of the shadows grunted and folded to the ground.
The street filled with the sound of pounding hooves as the true horses ran from the chaos. Swords clanged in a clash of steel that mingled with the grunts of the fàlaire. Ellspeth’s world narrowed to the bucking animal beneath her and the wave after wave of attackers. She slashed at the nearest dark shape, then hacked at another.
Although she knew Dal was too far away to help, she instinctively reached out for him. Her call vanished before it went more than a handspan, cut off by some unseen force.