We chat with author Kree Sullivan about Blackblood, which is a queer western inspired fantasy story! PLUS we have the first chapter to share with you at the end of the interview!
Hi Kree, can you tell us a bit about yourself?
Hi there! I’m Kree Sullivan, author of the upcoming YA Fantasy novel, Blackblood. I’m a book lover, gamer, and fan of all things spooky. I live in Virginia with my wife and our two perfect cats, Jupiter and Hades. My hobbies are reading, thinking about cool monsters, and getting really invested in new crafting projects.
Has writing always been a part of your life and how did you discover that you loved to write?
I was always an avid reader growing up, but I didn’t really consider writing my own stories until around thirteen, when a good friend started writing. I was her first reader and biggest fan, always asking when she’d have the next chapter finished. It was like a lightbulb went off, and I realized, “Oh, I can write, too. There’s nothing to stop me. I don’t have to wait until I go to the bookstore for something new.” I took off after that.
What does your writing process look like? And how do you know when you’re onto a good story idea?
My writing process is best described as “a jumbled mess of thoughts, prayers, and pleading with my own brain to function long enough to get the words out. Many of my writer friends make thorough outlines, planning in meticulous detail what will happen and when (and some of them have novel-length world building documents. Yes, I am looking at you, Jess). I think people like that are amazing, and I really envy them.
For me, a book is a nebulous of ideas until I sit down and write it. I always come up with characters first, then settle them in their world, then decide what sort of story their lives tell. For example, in Blackblood, my first concept was that I wanted to write about a mage and a mage hunter. Then I sat down and wrote until something resembling a story came out. It’s a messy process, but it’s the only thing that works for me. Even imagining writing an outline makes it feel like my brain is hitting a brick wall.
Your debut novel Blackblood is coming out from Tiny Ghost Press on April 1st. Can you tell us a bit about the premise of the novel?
Blackblood is about a smuggler, Armina, who travels the country selling illegal magical goods in her semitruck with her ex-girlfriend, Valaina. At the start of the novel, the two have just lost the truck’s previous captain, and are struggling to confront both their grief and the idea that they have to survive in this business on their own. To complicate matters, Armina finds a stowaway mage in the truck named Canto. Canto’s mother was recently arrested by the anti-mage authorities—The Huntsmen—under suspicious circumstances, and Canto is desperate to save her. Now Armina is faced with a difficult choice: keep herself, her truck, and Valaina safe, or help Canto rescue their mother from the deadly Huntsmen stronghold.
What themes did you explore when writing the novel and why were those important to you?
The novel explores themes of grief, revenge, redemption, and injustice.
Our word is in a pretty terrible place right now. In the novel, the Huntsmen exist to separate mages from non-magical society, to cage them and call them “dangerous” and “unequal”. I wanted to attack these ideas, to have a safe space where I could unleash my fury at them. I felt there were too many people in real life demurring, pretending that if we just approached bigotry with kindness, we could make it evaporate. I understand not everyone is in a place where confrontation is safe, but sometimes I wanted to scream. So I made Canto, who has experienced injustice at the hands of the Huntsman all their life. I gave Canto the power to be violent, unforgiving, relentless.
Then I made Renn, a questioning Huntsman, who believes in the Order’s cause but slowly learns that his upbringing was an indoctrination into those beliefs. He has to unravel his entire worldview, which is very difficult. I believe people can change, but they have to confront themselves. They have to take themselves apart. They have to want to.
Lastly, there’s Armina, who struggles with the death of her father figure. I wrote Blackblood at a really vulnerable time when my own father had just passed. My father was everything, knew everything, and I was suddenly confronted with the realization that I would have to walk forward on my own. How do you come to terms with that? How do you move on? Those were the thoughts I put into her character.
If you could only use five words to describe the novel which would you choose?
Adventurous. Sharp. Blood-soaked. Cathartic. Hopeful.
What inspired you to write Blackblood?
A lot of things: my love for magic stories; an interest in writing something that mixed more modern tech with a fantasy setting; wanting to write a bunch of weird people trying their best to live normal lives despite extreme circumstances.
Specifically, three things inspired Blackblood:
- The death of my father from Leukemia.
- [Which is somewhat of an addendum to 1] I had been doing a lot of blood draws, both to see if I could be a potential marrow match for my dad and for related health reasons (stress and anxiety were causing concerning symptoms).
- My wife had just come out as non-binary (she now uses she/they pronouns), and I wanted to write a character for her whose identity was not a plot point, who was allowed to exist in their gender presentation and it was not really remarked upon. Even by the villains.
The world of Blackblood is so well drawn out, how did you come up with the world and can you tell us a little bit more about the setting?
When I started writing Blackblood, Mad Max: Fury Road had been out for several years, but I still loved its grungy, sandy aesthetic and wanted to write something with a similar mood.
Blackblood takes place in a country called The Arachnida Federation, which consists of far-flung settlements united only by trade agreements and Huntsmen authority. The topography alternates between desert and mountains. There are two other countries on the continent, Y’ashtria and Tempestor, that are mentioned but not yet visited. They have their own histories, climates, and cultures.
Originally, the setting wasn’t as fleshed out as it needed to be, but on the advice of a beta reader, I spent several days buckling down, deciding what the continent looked like, the countries on it, and how they interacted with one another. I know a lot more about the world than what’s written, so I hope I can return to it some day!
What were some of the hurdles you faced when writing this novel?
My own brain, mostly. I have ADHD that went undiagnosed until very recently, and writing was often a struggle. I’d sit down to work and stare at the page with nothing churning in my mind but static. I still have issues sometimes—if anything interrupts me while I’m writing my brain will get distracted and I can get pulled out of the zone entirely. I marvel at how some of my friends write while listening to music. How?
The cast of Blackblood is such a diverse and engaging rag tag crew, could you tell us a little more about the characters and where they came from?
All my characters came from my deep, innate desire to be ferally good in a sometimes-unkind world.
For Canto, I wanted to write a character who was right, who knew they were right, but who was boxed in by inescapable corruption. I wanted to give someone who was powerless a knife and set them loose on the things that hurt them.
Renn originally came from me just liking to write big, gruff characters who are secretly squishy at heart. He was much more unpleasant in the first draft before I realized that he had a huge capacity for gentleness. He has his own grief, his own past, that have made him cruel. I wanted to explore how a person could crawl out of hatred if given the tools and the chance.
Armina was initially more confident and thus colder. She was more flippant about her father-figure’s death until I recognized the amount of hurt and sadness lurking under the bravado. She’s still stubborn and straightforward, but she’s grown a lot in kindness and empathy.
Queerness is just one element of the diversity running through this book, can you tell us a bit about why it was important for this to be included in your novel as well as the other aspects of your characters that set them apart?
I’m a queer woman myself, one who’s surrounded by queer friends and community. It’s important to me that my books reflect my own personal relationships, the real identities I know and love. Queer people exist, in every group at every level. There’s so much kindness and love and empathy in the queer community, and the more books that have those qualities present, the better. Especially in times like now, when the political climate wants to make people think that a person’s identity is an issue that can be voted on rather than a fact of life.
My characters are strange, angry, sad. They have trauma, and they don’t always react perfectly in a given situation. They have scars and bitterness baked into them because life hasn’t treated them the way they deserve. All humans are like this to some extent; I hope every reader can find something relatable in one of the characters.
What authors or books, or actually any pieces of culture influenced and inspired this book?
I’ve mentioned my primary influence, Mad Max: Fury Road, but there were a few others, such as the Anime/Manga Fullmetal Alchemist by Hiromu Arakawa and the video game Dragon Age (specifically Dragon Age II, which is the best of the franchise, and anyone who says differently is just afraid of spiders).
In the book we learn about the Huntsmen, a militarized government that is staunchly against mages and the use of magic. Can you speak about the inspiration for this group and the importance of addressing the oppression of marginalized communities?
I feel like I’m saying “the world sucks” a lot in this interview, but it’s true—there are so many forces out there trying to take marginalized communities and shove them under the rug, hide them from the public and pretend their histories and lived experiences don’t have meaning. Our lives are called subversive, dangerous, sinful. The Huntsmen are another group full of hate and aggression, looking for people who are less powerful than themselves to place the blame on. It’s shameful, and it’s unfortunately all too real. All people deserve equal rights and equal dignity, and they should be judged individually on how they treat others and not on imagined biases.
Blackblood seeks to put the power in the hands of the marginalized and their allies. The road is difficult and unpaved and there’s little help from the outside world, but it’s walkable, and there is community and family to be found along the way.
We know what the book is about and without giving any spoilers, what else can readers expect?
Expect adventure, excitement, misuse of a semitruck, blood drinking, enemies who might find a way to become friends, and a whole lot of hope for the future.
What do you hope readers take away from Blackblood?
I hope they have a good time with my characters, root for them, and come out the other side of the novel reenergized and ready to face the world.
Again without spoilers is there one scene in particular that you can’t wait for readers to experience?
Hmm…It’s toward the end. Not an action scene, just a quiet heart-to-heart. I’m really proud of that one!
In the book the Blackblood is the name of a truck that’s used to smuggle magical artifacts. Do you have an interest in large motor vehicles outside of this novel?
HA! No, not at all. In fact, I’m terrified of driving. Even as a passenger I hate it. I think trucks and motorcycles are neat to look at, but please don’t make me ride in one!
How long did Blackblood take you to write and what was the process getting it to publication like?
Blackblood took about 6 months, I believe—I wrote it a chapter or two at a time and sent it to my group of critique partners. We meet once a week to chat about our ongoing work, and they’ve helped me so much on this journey. After they’d read the whole thing, I did a couple rounds of self-edits, then I sent it to other beta readers and adjusted it based on their feedback. Then more self-edits, then I queried it to agents.
I think any writer who has queried knows this is the worst part of the process. I got a few bites but no offers, so I took it off the market and did more substantial edits based on the little feedback agents gave. Then, by some miracle, I got a phone alert that told me Tiny Ghost Press was open to direct submissions, and the rest is history. I’m so happy to be working with them—they’ve changed the whole trajectory of my career, and they care so much about Blackblood. It’s really heartening, and I’ve felt uplifted during the whole process.
Now that the book is about to hit shelves, what would you say has been the most rewarding part of the publishing process?
Having the eyes of actual readers! From the editing stage through proofing and ARCs, there is nothing in the world as satisfying as writing something a relative stranger had a blast reading. I hope I get to experience that again and again for the rest of my life.
What advice would you give to aspiring authors?
On social media, I see a lot of writers early in the process giving up when querying isn’t going well. It always makes me sad because I’ve been there—it’s frustrating to pour your heart, soul, or months and years of effort into something and for it to be treated like a simple commodity rather than a piece of art in its own right. At the end of the day, publishing, specifically traditional publishing, is a business that has profit as its number-one concern. It’s rare for a publisher or agent to take a chance on something that isn’t a guaranteed best seller. There are other, better avenues to getting your book in front of readers, even if they might require more and sustained effort on the author’s part. Indie publishers and self-publishing can and do work for many. If trad pub isn’t the way, there will be another. But there won’t be anything if you just give up.
Fan communities are a big part of culture these days, are there any fan communities you think will love Blackblood especially?
Fan passion is so amazing and inspiring; it would be so cool to attend a convention as an author someday and interact with that excitement! I’m not too in tune with current fandom life, but any communities who love feral characters and plots that are a bit macabre will definitely thrive on Blackblood.
Why should people grab a copy of Blackblood?
Blackblood is an action-packed adventure, full of delicious vengeance, swordfights, sorcery, and semi-trucks. It’s fast-paced, super queer, and has my whole heart. Readers will have so much fun with this one, and it would make my entire year if even one person adores it as much as I do.
And of course we want to know what you’re working on next!
Next up is The Pine Lands, a duology about a young woman who saw a unicorn in the woods as a child, and it ruined her life. It has themes of isolation, familial abandonment, and what it means to be a monster. The setting is heavily inspired by my childhood in New Jersey, just south of its beautiful Pine Barrens.
EXCERPT
1
ARMINA
The Rabbit’s Day festivities haven’t wound down an inch despite the fact it’s hotter than a cook pan under the desert sun. Noisy children rush past where Valaina and I parked the semi half up on the curb, and I jam a finger in the ear not pressed against the pay phone’s receiver so I can hear the voice on the other end.
“I ain’t entering Wallton for shit,” the man says. He has a squawk like an old fox, the kind that got half its voice box ripped out in a game of chicken with a coyote. “The artifact’s not worth the traffic.”
I flip my messy ponytail over my shoulder and scowl despite the fact that the man can’t see it. I hope he feels it as I respond, “So you’d rather us brave the traffic and drive . . . where, exactly? Last I checked, the Blackblood was doing you a favor.”
“I’m less than fifty miles from the city, outside the Wrendrop Community. There’s a rest station with a tavern called The Skeletal Mare. Can’t miss it—’s got a horse skull dangling out front.”
I run a hand over my face, wiping away my irritation along with the noontime sweat. “Fine. Today, evening, Skeletal Mare outside of Wrendrop.”
The man hangs up without a goodbye.
As I return the phone to its cradle, something warm slaps into my free hand. A greasy square of waxed paper full of twisted cinnamon bread heats my palm almost unbearably, and I wince as molten sugar drips onto the base of my thumb.
Valaina stands above me, her own hunk of bread hanging out her mouth, her sunglasses shielding her brown eyes from the sun. She looks pretty today, with her sugar-stained mouth and the wind tugging at her curly black hair. If the sight of her didn’t make me want to start a fight for no reason, I might even feel inclined to kiss her. Rabbit’s Day is for romance, after all, and we used to be—
“Any luck?” She leans against our semitruck’s scrubbed-metal side. My truck. The Blackblood.
Averard’s truck.
“Depends on what you define as luck.” I rip a chunk out of the bread. It hurts my teeth how sweet it is, but I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, so any food’s a welcome comfort. “Do we have an offer? Yes. Do I know if it’s of any merit?” I shrug and crumple the waxed paper between my fingers. “The man seemed ready enough to be rid of his artifact, so I think we’ll get a good price.”
Valaina raises her eyebrows and tilts her head so I can see her eyes beneath her sunglasses. Can’t say I blame her for any skepticism. The pair of us’ve been an awful mess since Averard died. He was the captain of our little three-man brigade, our “pirate ship without an ocean”, as he’d call it. When he went and got himself murdered, he left us with nothing more than the truck, a battered pistol, and an old black coat. Valaina kept the pistol, and I kept the coat, and neither of us talk about how we picked them off his corpse before we ran.
Keepsakes of a dead man are not instructions, and they’re certainly not a business plan. They won’t put food in our stomachs or keep the Huntsmen away. Smuggling magical artifacts is dangerous enough if you know what you’re doing, but despite me turning nineteen at the beginning of this year and Valaina being two years older, Averard always insisted we were too young to help him yet with the more particular aspects of the job. Val and I know the trade; we know how to sell. But acquisitions? Not under our purview.
I tug open the Blackblood’s door, reaching high up its frame to pull myself inside. Valaina watches me struggle before stepping around the truck’s low-bellied trailer and throwing open the passenger-side door. She hops inside and wipes her sticky hands on her pants, then lifts her long legs and tucks them between the dashboard and the windshield. “Guess your seller’s not meeting us in Wallton,” she says.
I snort in response and start the engine. It rumbles to life beneath us—not anything that’d be mistaken for a purr like some of those fancy new flatbeds, or even the hum of a family’s personal car. The Blackblood sounds like a call to adventure. Like the rush of power through veins.
“I get it, to be honest,” Valaina continues as I ease off the curb with a faint thu-thump. Families scatter as the Blackblood mounts the street. “Don’t know how anyone can stand to live this close to the Tidal Wall.”
I peer out my side mirrors at the object in question. I wouldn’t say that Wallton’s built close to the Wall, but the black stone expanse rises hazy like a mountain across the whole horizon. It’s a barricade of sorts, one that divides our Arachnida Federation from the country of Tempestor. Far as I know, it was erected not twenty years back, when the Huntsmen attempted a hostile takeover of Tempestor. When their coup failed, Tempestor built that wall to keep the rest of us out.
The Huntsmen trying to take Tempestor was peak foolishness, even though it must’ve made sense to their blood-addled minds. Tempestor’s a country of mages. Run by ’em. Can’t imagine any Huntsman’d stand to see such a place exist unopposed.
The Arachnida Federation doesn’t have anything like a central government—too many little towns with too much space between them, connected by nothing but sand and sky—so the Huntsmen Order’s the closest thing we’ve got to an authority. Ostensibly, they uphold any laws agreed upon between settlements and keep the desert roads safe. But the truth is, the Huntsmen exist primarily to hunt what few free mages are left.
Your average person tends to get shot if they approach too close to the Tidal Wall. Huntsmen tend to disappear without more than a bloodstain on the desert sand.
Val and I came out to Wallton after Averard died, hoping it might prove a good place to lie low a while, take stock of what artifacts we’ve got in the trailer, and figure out a gameplan to keep business moving. But we can’t stay here forever. There’s too big a risk of getting comfortable.
I cleave my attention to the road, trying not to get stray kids or dogs stuck under my front wheels. Red and pink streamers twist from the telephone wires above, and the clickity-clack of rabbit skulls sounds from strings on every brightly colored food stall. I stop for a parade of pedestrians tied together with a golden streamer around their waists, but as I rest my hand on my chin, my eyes meet those of a man across the crowd.
Black eyes. Pitch black.
He watches me with bored disdain, and I try not to sink in my seat. Huntsmen aren’t supposed to show their faces all the way out in Wallton. Have they forgotten how to fear the Tidal Wall? Or are they preparing for something?
Valaina doesn’t notice him. Instead, she rummages in the space between her seat and her door, extracting a beat-up, dog-eared romance novel. She draws Averard’s pistol from her belt and deposits it on the seat between us, a more solid barrier than the Tidal Wall ever was. Been a month since Averard died, and near as long since Valaina and I’ve talked about anything other than business. I’m trying to navigate what it means to be captain of an enterprise I was never taught to lead, what it means to have lost the only parental figure I’ve ever known. I don’t have time to figure out what it means to be someone’s ex-girlfriend.
“Huntsmen must be bored.” I nod toward the man as he slips past our window. “Not enough free mages left for them to hunt.”
Valaina returns to her book with little more than a glance at the Huntsman. Her shoulders shift as she tugs her long-sleeve shirt a little closer at the throat. “Dunno,” she says. “Still plenty out there.”
We overcome the pedestrian traffic and drive through the city’s gates into the desert proper. The sun reflects off my truck’s hood and makes the world shine, and a breeze scatters sand across my windshield. But even as I concentrate on the long drive ahead of us, an unease rises in my chest.
I’ve known Valaina more than half my life, and I’ve known her different than everyone else. She’s not empathetic or gentle, and she has an angry streak wider than the Federation itself. I’ve heard her called a liar and a snake, and I’ve seen her act like both, but she’s always willing to speak her truths if you know how to listen.
Still plenty out there, she says, but I hear what she really means.
Still too many for me.
