Showing posts with label C.P. Lesley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label C.P. Lesley. Show all posts

29 December 2013

Author Interview: C.P. Lesley

This week, we're pleased to welcome author C.P. Lesley with her latest novel, THE GOLDEN LYNX. The author will offer a free copy of The Golden Lynx to a lucky blog visitor. Be sure to leave your email address in the comments for a chance to win. Here's the blurb.
WHO IS THE GOLDEN LYNX?

Russia, 1534. Elite clans battle for control of the toddler who will become their first tsar, Ivan the Terrible. Amid the chaos and upheaval, a masked man mysteriously appears night after night to aid the desperate people.

Or is he a man?

Sixteen-year-old Nasan Kolychev is trapped in a loveless marriage. To escape her misery, she dons boys’ clothes and slips away under cover of night to help those in need. She never intends to do more than assist a few souls and give her life purpose. But before long, Nasan finds herself caught up in events that will decide the future of Russia.

And so, a girl who has become the greatest hero of her time must decide whether to save a baby destined to become the greatest villain of his.


**Author Interview with C. P. Lesley**

What makes 16th-century Russia a good setting for a novel?
From 1450 to 1600, Russia came roaring back after two centuries of domination by the descendants of Genghis Khan, known as the Tatars. The princes of Moscow took over the other Russian principalities and established the autocratic system that has provided the template for Russian power ever since. At the same time, Tatar rule fragmented, leading to the decline and, eventually, the conquest of the former conquerors. A situation rife with cultural conflict and power struggles is like mother’s milk to a novelist. At the time when I set my Legends of the Five Directions series, all that trouble was heightened by the enthroning of the three-year-old who would become known as Ivan the Terrible (ruled 1533–84). With no strong ruler to moderate the fierce competition among the great aristocratic clans, the normal consensus among the elite fractured.

As a writer, 16th-century Russia is also a natural fit for me. It’s a time and place I have spent decades studying but about which most people know little or nothing, so I thought it would be a fun way to put all that reading to good use.

How does Nasan, your heroine in The Golden Lynx, fit into this setting?
Nasan is a Tatar princess living in Kasimov, which was a Russian town given over to this or that Tatar prince—mostly to keep potential troublemakers in line. At sixteen, she is confronting the constraints imposed on women in most traditional societies. Her mother spends every minute preparing her for marriage—and as was typical at that time, her father, not Nasan, will decide whom she marries. But Nasan is a tomboy. She wants to emulate the heroines of legend she has read about in books. With her younger brother, she sneaks into the woods to practice archery and swordsmanship, until her younger brother dies in an ambush during one such excursion. To settle the interfamily feud that follows, Nasan’s father agrees to marry her into the family of her brother’s murderer. Her underlying desire to define the terms of her own life is threatened.

Can’t she just say no?
That’s her first instinct, but if she refuses the match, in effect she condemns every male member of her family to death. And because her community defines her clan as including the dead and the unborn, she risks being cast out for eternity if she refuses to cooperate. Her commitment to her family binds her. However admirable in itself, it is her main obstacle to achieving her goal.

Her second obstacle is her new husband, Daniil. So long as he is around, Nasan has to toe the line as defined by their two families. That creates a difficult situation for her, as the marriage thrusts her into an unfamiliar culture with a language she barely speaks and rules on the behavior of women every bit as restrictive as the society she has left behind. She has no friends: her mother-in-law criticizes and instructs her; her sister-in-law detests her; and Daniil seems more interested in the servant girls than he is in her.

So where does the Golden Lynx come in?
Without intending to, Daniil makes it possible for Nasan to solve her problem. His main goal is to prove that his own brother did not kill Nasan’s. When he takes off to discover what actually happened on the day of the murder, his absence frees Nasan to slip out of the house at night, dressed in boys’ clothes. As she helps one person after another, stories of her exploits spread throughout Moscow and beyond. People don’t know her name, so they call her the Golden Lynx because of the pendant she wears around her neck for good luck. After a while, she runs into the man who really did kill her younger brother, and her desire for revenge drives the rest of the story.

Is this a book about vengeance, then, or about self-realization?
Both. It’s a journey of self-discovery for Nasan and Daniil, a coming-of-age tale. But the novel’s underlying story problem addresses how different people respond to injury. Some characters endure and adapt; some forgive; some repay violence with violence; some seek revenge but in the end find the solution in justice rather than mindless response. I leave it to the readers to decide which reaction proves most rewarding.

Where is the series going from here?
I have a complete rough draft for The Winged Horse (2: East), which looks at life on the steppe through the story of Nasan’s older brother and his attempt to take over a nomadic horde. The big idea there is to explore the complicated family relationships established in a polygamous society, especially one where politics is governed by ties of kinship, real and imagined. The Swan Princess (3: North) returns to Russia, where Daniil goes missing on the Lithuanian front and Nasan sets off to find him, only to encounter several nasty characters from book 1. The Vermilion Bird (4: South) sees Nasan’s annoying sister-in-law, Maria, get her comeuppance; and The Shattered Drum (5: Center) rounds out the series with a resolution for Grusha, the servant girl whose interest in Daniil ratchets up the conflict in The Golden Lynx and The Swan Princess.

C. P. Lesley, a historian, is the author of The Not Exactly Scarlet Pimpernel and The Golden Lynx, both published by Five Directions Press in 2012. She is currently working on The Winged Horse, the first of four planned sequels to The Golden Lynx—a series set during the childhood of Ivan the Terrible. When not writing, dancing, reading, or working, she hosts New Books in Historical Fiction.

You can find out more at Ms. Lesley’s website and blog. The website includes a link to her Amazon.com author page.

26 December 2013

Excerpt Thursday: The Golden Lynx by C.P. Lesley

This week, we're pleased to welcome author C.P. Lesley with her latest novel, THE GOLDEN LYNX. Join us on Sunday, when the author will offer a free copy of The Golden Lynx to a lucky blog visitor. Be sure to leave your email address in the comments for a chance to win. Here's the blurb.


WHO IS THE GOLDEN LYNX?

Russia, 1534. Elite clans battle for control of the toddler who will become their first tsar, Ivan the Terrible. Amid the chaos and upheaval, a masked man mysteriously appears night after night to aid the desperate people.

Or is he a man?

Sixteen-year-old Nasan Kolychev is trapped in a loveless marriage. To escape her misery, she dons boys’ clothes and slips away under cover of night to help those in need. She never intends to do more than assist a few souls and give her life purpose. But before long, Nasan finds herself caught up in events that will decide the future of Russia.

And so, a girl who has become the greatest hero of her time must decide whether to save a baby destined to become the greatest villain of his.


 ** An Excerpt from The Golden Lynx**

Kasimov, Sha’ban 940 A.H. / February 1534

The lynx found Nasan just before the ambush. She glimpsed its tufted ears through the tangled branches of the birch tree, then lost sight of it when her brother launched his attack. 

Alerted by his joyous shriek, she jumped sideways and stuck out a foot, sending him somersaulting over the blizzard-kissed ground. She pelted him with snowballs, taunting him. 

“You forgot again, silly. How can you take me by surprise if you yell like that?”

He lurched to his feet, grumbling, and she laughed. Girei tried, but too often he forgot to save his war cries for battle.

He soon recovered. Most of the snowballs bounced off Nasan’s quilted overcoat or hit the birch trees that bounded the clearing they had chosen as their private playground. But a few better-aimed missiles sent icy shivers across her cheeks, reddened by the cold. One smacked her on the forehead, knocking her hat to one side.

She pushed the sheepskin cap into place and aimed another snowball at Girei, who yelped when it broke over his neck. While he scooped ice from inside his coat, she leaped in celebration, bending her legs almost double behind her and shouting, “Hurrah!”

Her moment of exultation cost her. Girei darted toward her, grabbed her round the waist, and tossed her into a drift. The impact jarred loose an entire branch’s load, covering her in snow. “Yow,” she said. “I’m going to get you for that.”

Girei grinned. “You didn’t hear me coming, though.”

She shook her head, giggling. “No, I didn’t. Truce?”

He nodded. Nasan kept a wary eye on him as she wriggled free of her drift. A few months ago, he couldn’t have picked her up that way. But these days he seemed to grow taller with each passing minute; for him manhood lay just around the corner. Sha’ban led into Ramadan, and the ending of the fast marked his fifteenth birthday. Within weeks, he would ride off to join the army with their father and older brother. He couldn’t wait to go.

Leaving her with their mother and the women. Wives, aunts, cousins, half-sisters, servants: a bevy of females determined to mold Nasan into a replica of themselves—preoccupied with her place among the hierarchy of her eventual husband’s pretty playthings. At sixteen, Nasan knew better than to resist marriage and motherhood. Women existed for no other purpose. But while she slept, the grandmother spirits whispered their promise: life offered so much more.

A pair of fingers snapped before her face. “Are you dreaming?” Girei asked. “Possessed? Wake up.”

She rubbed her gloved fist against his forehead, where the unruly hair refused to accept the confinement of his hat. “A nightmare, more like. You off to the army, and I to supervise the kitchens. Is that justice?”

“Oh, sister,” he said, “if only you could join me.”

How she would miss him. No one else understood her as well.

But she could not hold onto him forever. Already a faint mustache showed on his upper lip; his face increasingly resembled the portraits of their ancestor Genghis Khan. Genghis lay hidden in the eastern steppe, long buried in a sacred precinct marked only by the spirit banners where his soul perched between flights, but his illustrious lineage survived in the rulers of Khankirmän, which the Russians called Kasimov. Girei had grown up compact and muscular, short and sturdy like his father, with dark hair and black eyes. His quilted winter trousers and overcoat, the sable hat pulled low over his forehead, only heightened his resemblance to the Mongol warriors of old.

To slip past her mother, Nasan had borrowed clothes from Girei’s servant. For these few stolen hours, she reveled in the liberty the garments gave her. She didn’t want to be a boy, but she loved the freedom to move, to choose, and to explore that boys took for granted.

Embarrassed by the thought, she brushed snow off her jacket. Pointless to long for the days—only two years past—when she and Girei had raced their ponies across the steppe, ululating their joy into the wind that ruffled the feather grass. The image of Ana appeared before her: an older version of Nasan—slim but indomitable, black hair hidden beneath a cap, dark eyes flashing with annoyance at her daughter’s independent ways. “Princesses stay in the palace,” her mother’s remembered voice said in a tone that brooked no disagreement.

Nasan would pay for her disobedience when she got home. But sunshine had beckoned from outside her window, Girei’s departure drew ever closer, and the winter woods lured her with mystery and silence. A scolding seemed a small price for a morning’s release from duty.

A flurry of snowballs snapped her back to the present. “Truce over,” Girei cried. He bombarded Nasan with what remained of his hoard, then ran for his pony, vaulting into the saddle. “Bet you can’t catch me.”

Traitor! Snow covered her from nose to hips. Set on revenge, she shook herself off and leaped for her horse’s back. Girei had a good head start, but she rode better than he did. Her sure-footed steppe pony dashed along the flattened snow that formed the road—the frozen Oka River on one side, unbroken forest on the other. The horses galloped nose to tail when a dozen men burst from among the trees and grabbed the Tatars’ reins.
Russians.

No doubt about that. Many Tatars had European features, but none looked like the leader of this group. A platinum-haired giant, he towered over his men.

Too late, Nasan remembered her mother’s warning that more lurked in the woods than screech owls and lynxes.

C. P. Lesley, a historian, is the author of The Not Exactly Scarlet Pimpernel and The Golden Lynx, both published by Five Directions Press in 2012. She is currently working on The Winged Horse, the first of four planned sequels to The Golden Lynx—a series set during the childhood of Ivan the Terrible. When not writing, dancing, reading, or working, she hosts New Books in Historical Fiction.

You can find out more at Ms. Lesley’s website and blog. The website includes a link to her Amazon.com author page.