INTERVIEW WITH T. M. LAKOMY
Leaving it at the current ending, I wanted to continue with the character’s journey but I knew that was the perfect place to end. In a way, I wanted the reader to know what lay beyond the final chapter as it is a bewildering end. But then, I would have got carried away and ended up combining two novels in one. But the temptation was strong, I itched to show the results of the end chapter.
What was the first book you ever had published? How much time did it take from writing your first book to having it published?
This is my debut novel and I wrote it three years ago, I shelved it for a long time before considering taking it further. I believe it took me between 6/8 months to write it.
When you create characters, do you base them on real people?
Yes, I base them on people around me, not necessarily people I know very well. I look for a certain character streak, mannerism or affectation and I take it and build on it. Sometimes it’s just the look in the eyes or the tone of the voice or the gait, and I add layers of complexity to it and a backstory that fits. I amplify virtues and vices and I am always on the lookout for interesting people. I study people, it’s a form of anthropology for me.
How would you describe yourself if you were “speed dating” your readers?
I am a very eccentric woman who has a deeply philosophical streak and a penchant for the occult and mysticism.
What’s something fans would find fascinating about you?
That through my archaeological studies I became fascinated with the occult practices of indigenous people and from studying the Siberian shamans, I ended up getting to know the spiritual and mystical aspect of some east African tribes through my work.
How do your family and/or friends feel about your book or writing venture in general?
They are very supportive, they are happy I took the step to publish my writing. I have toyed with the idea of becoming a writer for years and never fully committed till now. I am glad they encouraged me.
Do you have any pets?
Yes two cats, mother and son, delightful little furballs
If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you travel?
China, I would love to discover the culture there and immerse myself.
Do you have siblings? What was it like growing up with them?
I have half sisters… let’s say it wasn’t easy
Do you have a favorite beverage that you drink when you write?
White wine or a home made passion fruit martini.
Please tell us 5 miscellaneous facts about yourself.
- My favourite colour is black, then grey, then green, then yellow, I have remained a goth at heart.
- I am actually quite shy while simultaneously having a rapier wit
- My favourite season is winter, I don’t like the heat that much but I do like to sunbathe
- I love horror films, anything to spook myself out
- I hate tall buildings
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RedFernManor
- Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15558568.T_M_Lakomy
- Twitter: https://twitter.com/Shadow_Crucible
- Book trailer:
- Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Shadow-Crucible-Blind-God/dp/1590794141
- Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-shadow-crucible-t-m-lakomy/1124245404?ean=9781590794142
BRIEF AUTHOR BIO:
I am T. M Lakomy (Tamara Lakomy). I was born in London, but grew up as a tribal girl in a North African repressive regime. I spent my childhood between the slums of Mellasine and the affluent neighbourhoods in Tunis.
I studied archaeology and became enamoured with the shamanistic practices of indigenous people.
I am an author and poet who seeks to challenge our notions of reality, and see life with a different perspective.
I work in East Africa with indigenous tribes studying the origins of mankind and the salient golden thread in the tapestry of humanity’s beliefs.
In a world where angels, demons, and gods fight over the possession of mortal souls, two conflicted pawns are ensnared in a cruel game. The enigmatic seer Estella finds herself thrown together with Count Mikhail, a dogmatic Templar dedicated to subjugating her kind. But when a corrupted cardinal and puppet king begin a systematic genocide of her people, the two become unlikely allies.
Taking humanity back to their primordial beliefs and fears, Estella confronts Mikhail’s faith by revealing the true horror of the lucrative trade in human souls. All organized religions are shops orchestrated to consume mankind. Every deity, religion, and spiritual guide has been corrupted, and each claims to have the monopoly on truth and salvation.
In a perilous game where the truth is distorted and meddling ancient deities converge to partake of the unseen battle, Estella unwittingly finds herself hunted by Lucifer. Traversing the edge of hell’s precipice, Estella and Mikhail are reduced to mere instruments. Their only means to overcome is through courting the Threefold Death, the ancient ritual of apotheosis—of man becoming God.
“I want to liberate you from your thralldom,” he said. “I have watched over you all, my tender flock. I am Lucifer, the morning star, the first to greet you with my love into this life, and the last to claim you on my dark stallion of death. I have come to free you.” His persuasive voice was soothing and nurturing, like a gentle river rippling mildly over soft bedrock.
The cardinal found himself in a daze of awe, and within him woke his longing for power and lust for dominion. “Come to me, let me free you, and we shall destroy the Twilit world that has robbed you of the gifts that you so deserved.”
The fatherly voice of the angel was indignant yet gentle, and he beamed at the cardinal who nodded back eagerly. “Let me into your heart, then. Lead me into your house, in this false edifice erected in the name of God, and let us together find the lost sheep in the house of God. I am his true son, after all, prince of the world.” He glided towards the cardinal, his numerous nacre wings extending into the chamber. They shed their own pearly light, and it seemed he floated like a silver vision. The angel knelt beside the cardinal, gazing into his watery eyes.
“Let me into his house.” The voice was slightly more pressing now.
The cardinal, dazed, nodded in agreement. With a satisfied smile, the angel touched the cardinal’s chest with a slender finger, right at his heart, and breathed over him. The cardinal groaned, falling instantly asleep.
The angel then shifted like a blurring image, colors melting and running, twisting like molten glass into a murky mess of shadow and dirt-colored fumes. The gleaming wings fell to the ground, losing their feathers and rotting instantly. Now instead of the radiant angel, there stood a hooded and cloaked figure, emanating death. Like a black hole, it sucked in all the light around him, exerting a fearsome pull. The light from the candles swirled and were drawn into him, as though he were a gasping sinkhole.