Are you ready to meet one of our favorite dark fantasy/horror authors? We first met Andrew Weston years ago and instantly connected. He’s with a new publisher and has a new release out that I personally can’t wait to read. If you’re a horror, paranormal, dark fantasy reader, you’re going to want to check out Andrew Weston. I pleaded with him for an updated interview, and he agreed. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to International Bestseller Andrew Weston. Andrew, take it away:
What is your writing process?
My writing process is rather simple. I do a little every day. Some days it might be taking notes/completing research, etc, and putting everything in order so that the writing flows, while at other times I just follow the notes I’ve already made and get words onto the screen.
What book do you wish you could have written?
My goodness, that’s rather easy. Lord of the Rings – single edition – incorporating all 3 of the original LOR volumes.
I started emptying my local library of science fiction and fantasy stories from about the age of 6, but I was 12 by the time I came across the epic that has gone on to become a legend. Its scope, its breathtaking imagery and world building really captured my imagination. And now I’m an author, I really appreciate just how much creativity went into devising that universe.
As my readers will know, I’m something of a world builder myself. I spend a great deal of time laying down the foundations of the ‘reality’ my stories take place in. I give them culture; language; a history, etc. But Lord of the Rings? It exists on a totally different level, and is the template on which so many writers have based their own creations.
And just look at the influence it still wields today. THAT’s the kind of book I’d love to write one day.
Just as your books inspire authors, what authors have inspired you?
Well, as you might imagine, J.R.R. Tolkien was an early inspiration. He was followed in later years by Stephen R. Donaldson, Julian May, and Raymond E. Feist. Their work is truly animated, and the depth and integrity of their storytelling shines through.
What do you consider to be your best accomplishment?
Managing to achieve international #1 status on the Amazon platform in 5 different counties simultaneously for several of my previous works. One of them even attracted tentative enquiries from a television production company. So, if I can hit that mark again – and I would stress that Augustus Thorne is my absolute favorite character, ever – then I’ll know I’m on the right track.
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
Back in the UK so I can more fully develop as a writer. I think it’s important to interact with your fans and readers. Something that’s very hard to do from an island in the middle of the Aegean Sea during a pandemic. So, once I get back to the UK, you’ll be seeing me – in person – at a whole load of conventions. (And may I take this opportunity to apologise in advance).
Are you a plotter or a pantster?
Both. As I hinted earlier, I’m something of a world builder, and will spend months constructing the template on which I’m going to place my story. Names, dates, places, back stories, a history on which those back stories and events are built. It adds credence to your story arc that’s obvious. I also lay out the route I want the story and subplots to follow.
But once I start writing, I allow the story to develop a life of its own. I go with the flow. And sometimes, my stories have followed an entirely different course due to on-the-spot/in the moment inspiration. It’s rather exciting, and I enjoy the particular formula I’ve developed as it works well for me.
What are you working on now? What is your next project?
At this present time, I’m rounding off the last book in a new epic fantasy series: The Ascension Trials, due for future release through Hydra Publications. Once that’s complete, I’ll be returning to the world of Cambions, Incubi and Succubae, as there are still dark deeds and terrifying tales to be told.
Do you write naked?
I’ve been known to get a little cheeky on swelteringly hot days here in the Aegean. You’ll know when it happens . . . you’ll hear the haunting echoes of my wife’s laughter all the way on the other side of the planet.
What is the biggest fib you’ve ever told?
That I’m Sean Connery’s long-lost, younger, and far more handsome brother.
Have you ever been in trouble with the law?
Well, I’ve been arrested, twice, while undercover. Does that count?
Have you ever gotten into a fight?
In my youth, rarely. Now, I wouldn’t dare. The wife always wins!
Do you drink? Smoke? What’s your vice?
See question 1.
What is your biggest fear?
That someone might walk in while I’m question 1-ing.
What do you want your tombstone to say?
Space for rent: Unused!
What secret talents do you have?
I can control my dreams . . . and often do.
Where is one place you want to visit that you haven’t been before?
Saturn. It rains diamonds there, and my wife would be ever so happy.
What’s on your bucket list (things to do before you die)?
To discover Victoria’s secret.
Do you have any scars? What are they from?
I have been shot, blown up, stabbed, thrown myself out of perfectly good aircraft, and suffered nosebleeds from being severely criticised. So take your pick . . . (Let’s just say, I’ve had a colorful life).
And I’ll let you ask my wife where all the scars are J
What do you dream? Do you have any recurring dreams/nightmares?
Now this is the perfect question to end on. Yes, I do dream, and I remember most of them. I frequently realize I’m dreaming while I’m still asleep, and, as I mentioned, can take control of what happens. (Great fun now I’m getting too old to enjoy my adrenaline junky days properly).
I also have recurring dreams. In fact, the character of Augustus Thorne came to me in a recurring dream over a 5 or 6 week period.
The dream always started in the same way: I’m inside an abandoned stately home (British colonial style). The place has fallen to ruin, and it’s always night-time. People are trapped inside and trying desperately to escape from barely seen, shadowy assailants, but the mansion is an absolute warren, and nobody can seem to find their way out. I’m looking on from a hiding place among the chandeliers in the main hallway, and, once I realize it’s a dream, I decide to do something about it and descend on the wraithlike pursuers as if I’ve got nothing to fear.
It’s not until I’m falling through the air that I realize my fingers are extending into talons. I feel strong. Powerful. Invincible, and set about the wraiths in no time at all. When the last one is dead, I start looking for the people trapped inside, but they’re terrified and keep running away from me. It’s not until I’ve completed a circuit of the house – getting the same result on every occasion – and come back to the hallway that I think to look in the remains of a shattered grand mirror, only to discover I look exactly like the things they were running from.
Needless to say, it took me an entire month of repeatedly trying to get the dream-people to realize I was there to help for things to begin to change. And once they did, I was able to set them free. Weird eh? But it gave me the catalyst of Augustus Thorne’s character – and the Cambion Journals were the eventual result.
I guess you could say I made my dreams come true. And I hope you get to know and love him as much as I do.
Title: A Hybrid’s Tale
Author: Andrew P. Weston
Genre: Dark Fantasy/Horror
Publisher: Raven Tale Publishing
Born a Cambion – a half-demon, half-human hybrid – and cursed by a terrible hunger he can barely control, Augustus Thorne spends his long and lonely life hunting and exterminating any Incubi and Succubae he can find. But no matter how many he destroys, he can always make room for one more. Especially if it’s the foul scum who raped his mother; Augustus’ own spawn-father, Fanon.
Guided by his mother’s diaries, Augustus pursues Fanon down through the centuries and around the world, until fate seems to point him toward his heart’s desire. Yet, things are not as they appear, and the revelations Augustus uncovers are mind boggling. For if he wishes to face his father, he must first learn more about his own unique heritage, and the awful circumstances that led to his creation.
The trouble is, doing so might just cost him his humanity.
Fortunately, I was twenty years old before my first full-on encounter, and I still remember that night as if it were yesterday.
A travelling circus had passed through the town next to the hamlet where my mother and I were staying, and on the evening of its last performance, I’d fed on a girl from the trapeze troupe who had been giving me the eye all week. By midnight, I’d left her sleeping soundly in the hayloft we had snuck into for privacy and began the long walk back home, a distance of nearly seven miles.
I’d not gone far when I detected a strange tang in the air, an odor both alien yet somehow familiar. Without understanding why, I started to run, instinctively knowing my mother was in danger.
Fortunately, my Cambion side came to the fore and I tore up the miles as if they were non-existent. Just as well. The closer I got to the village, the stronger the musk became. By the time I’d reached the tavern where we’d been lodging and cast my senses forward, it was evident a strange and distinctive quality now permeated the atmosphere about the building itself.
A chill ran down my spine and my ardor began to rise. Strangely, that eagerness revealed no inkling to feed whatsoever, but I did feel an overwhelming need to kill.
The ether seemed thicker somehow, congealed into a broth of ill-concealed malice. My finely-tuned senses skittered through that brew, quickly determining the heartbeats and cyclic rhythms given off by the inn-keeper and his family were unnatural. They were in thrall to a hypnotically induced sleep. The only one semi-awake was my mother, and she was becoming highly aroused.
Casting my sight ahead into our room, I was shocked to discover I could only visualize a hovering miasma of inky blackness within, a veil much more pronounced around my mother, who was beginning to sweat and writhe about on her bed. As I looked on, dark tendrils of desire sank down, tentacles that coiled around her, caressing her body as they shed her clothes.
It was only as the unfamiliar scent called to similar desires in me that the identity of the creature assaulting my mother finally registered.
I was young; I was strong, fit and healthy; I’d just fed and as such, was positively brimming with barely contained power.
Enraged, I initiated the skirr and skimmed silently up onto the roof. Concentrating, I immediately interpenetrated the thatch and supporting timbers and alighted upon those beams directly above my mother.
Now in a prime position to attack, I lingered only to confirm that I remained undetected. I needn’t have worried, so intent was the predator upon its quarry, that it paid scant regard to the beast above it.
Without compunction, I swooped down from my perch like a bird of prey, my talons slicing into the coiling fog like a cache of scimitars.
The entity below me reacted with surprising strength and speed, knocking me backward and against the wall with a huge swipe of its claws. An understandable, if ill-conceived reaction, for I’d retained my grip on the gelatinous, pulsing, filthy object my hand had closed about within its chest. Triumphantly, I held that mass up to its gaze.
Shock registered in its dead eyes for just an instant before I crushed its worthless heart between my fingers. It went rigid, let out a howl of rage and agony, then crumbled to the floor, dissipating within moments.
I’ll never forget how my mother suddenly sat up, shaking her head roughly from side to side as if waking from an unpleasant dream, before breaking down in tears. Soothing her matted hair, holding her sobbing, wracking frame in my arms, I struggled to contain a resentment so rabid, it threatened to drive me insane.
This could not be allowed to continue.
On that night, I decided she would never suffer like this again.
But little did I know the strength of Rosemary Thorne herself. Realizing she was still marked, my mother determined to support me in my endeavors in the only way she could, and in doing so, chose the path she would follow for the rest of her days.
And her aid was greatly received by a loving son.
As I went on to discover, Incubi and Succubae were very hard to kill unless you were like me: a Cambion. Something about a hybrid’s constitution made us much stronger and faster than our fiendish sires. Nevertheless, there were thousands of them to contend with. So, my mother went to great lengths to lure them in; distracting them; keeping them occupied for long enough for me to strike at their Achilles heel.
The irony of such an arrangement made me smile even now.
Andrew P. Weston is a Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.
As creator of the critically acclaimed IX Series, the Cambion Journals, along with Hell Bound, Hell Hounds, and Hell Gate, (novels forming part of the Heroes in Hell universe), Andrew has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society, and the International Association of Media Tie-in Writers.
When not working, he also devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with one of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for Astronaut.com and Amazing Stories.
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