Welcome to my weekly Author Spotlight. I’ve asked a bunch of my author friends to answer a set of interview questions, and to share their latest work.
Today: L.R. Braden is a bestselling, multi-award-winning author of dark-yet-hopeful urban fantasy stories that bring magic to the mundane. Her published works include the Magicsmith series, the Rifter series, and several works of shorter fiction. A bit of a recluse, she enjoys collecting skills that may (or may not) prove useful in the event that she is suddenly whisked away on some grand adventure in an alternate reality. Since that hasn’t happened yet, she mostly spends her days weaving fantastic tales, playing with her family, and getting lost on purpose. Her writing has won many awards, including the Eric Hoffer Book Award for Sci-fi/Fantasy, the Next Generation Indie Book Award for Paranormal Fiction, and the Imadjinn Award for Best Urban Fantasy.
Author Links:
Author Website: https://www.lrbraden.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LRBraden
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/laurenrbraden/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/L.R.-Braden/author/B07T87331Y
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/l-r-braden
Thanks so much, L.R., for joining me!
J. Scott Coatsworth: How would you describe your writing style/genre?
L.R. Braden: Fast-paced urban fantasy full of magic and mystery. Some common elements you’ll find in my writing are whirlwind adventures, magic that comes with a cost, found families, whodunnit murder mysteries, social discord, flawed heroes, snark, intense action, romantic subplots, and hopeful endings.
JSC: What was your first published work? Tell me a little about it.
LRB: The first book I ever published was A Drop of Magic in 2019. That was the beginning of my now bestselling, multi-award-winning Magicsmith urban fantasy series. It took me three months to write the first draft. Then it took another five years to polish it, figure out what to do next, find an agent, sign a contract with a publisher, revise and edit it a bunch more times, and finally release it into the world.
I’ve always been drawn to fantasy stories, because they bring magic into people’s lives. Starting with the old adage “write what you know,” I created a character much like myself, I set her in a world much like my own, then I introduced magic and sent her on an adventure. Eight books later, I’m still enjoying that adventure, and from what readers have told me, so are they, so I think I’ve succeeded in bringing a bit more magic to our world.
JSC: What do you do when you get writer’s block?
LRB: I get two different kinds of what I consider “writer’s block.” When I’m just feeling unmotivated to write, I sit down and try to write for five to fifteen minutes. Sometimes I just need to get out of my head and actually start typing. If that doesn’t work, it usually means I’m stressing out about something, so I give myself permission to take a few hours off. I read, or take a walk, or play video games. Then I sit down and try to write again. If I still can’t get the words out, I scratch that day off and try again tomorrow.
The other kind of writer’s block I sometime experience is akin to decision paralysis. When I have a scene that I’m not sure which way I want to take it, I often get overwhelmed considering all the different options. In those situations I usually take 1-3 days to brainstorm different “what-if” scenarios. Sometimes I can find a clear winner and get back to writing once I know where I’m going. Sometimes I can’t. If there’s no clear path forward, I will often skip that section and come back to it later, or write one of the scenarios chosen at random, knowing that I will likely have to go back and change it once I have more information.
JSC: Do you read your book reviews? How do you deal with bad or good ones?
LRB: I do read reviews, although I rarely interact with the reviewers. Sometimes, if someone asks a question or says something very nice, I will answer or thank them. I use reviews to gauge how successfully I’ve conveyed my intended story to my audience. Also, good reviews help motivate me to write more because they remind me *why* I’m writing—for the readers. I sometimes look over select reviews on the days when self-doubt creeps in.
If someone leaves a bad review, I remind myself that not every book resonates with every reader. “Bad” reviews that contain constructive criticisms can be helpful (when conveyed respectfully) in filtering out readers who are less likely to enjoy the story, and sometimes they identify actual story problems the author might not have been aware of. Reviews that just rant or insult the book/author… those I ignore as being written by people who clearly have bigger issues than whether or not they liked a book. All writing is a reflection of the writer, even reviews.
JSC: What does success mean to you?
LRB: There are lots of small successes—receiving a glowing review, winning an award, having someone attend an event just to get a book signed—but for me, true success is being able to support my family while doing something that I love. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m hopeful.
JSC: What was the hardest part of writing Shadow’s Bastion?
LRB: Being the eighth book in a series, and considering all that came before, there was a lot to juggle. I had to decide which characters to focus on, which previous events to remind readers about (without losing clarity or momentum), what aspects of the world and society needed to be highlighted or redefined, and I had to consider what expectations readers who’d read the entire series would be carrying with them. There was too much to include everything, yet there were certain elements that simply had to be there. Finding that balance was a struggle for sure. I ended up rewriting more sections of this story than any book I’d previously written, but I’m happy with the results.
JSC: What inspired you to write this particular story? What were the challenges in bringing it to life?
LRB: Fiction mirrors reality in the same way Alex’s world mirrors my own. I suppose I was inspired to write this particular story because of all the strife and division I see around me. When I began writing the Magicsmith series, it was mostly about Alex carving out a place where she could belong in a world where she didn’t really fit. It has since evolved into her trying to change to entire world to be a place where everyone can belong. In my books, social prejudices stem from whether or not a person has magic and what type of being they identify as (i.e. fae, human, werewolf, etc.). Shadow’s Bastion brings the final group that was still in hiding (the vampires) out of the shadows and onto the global stage, but it focuses on characters who don’t fit soundly into any specific group.
I’d say the hardest part of bringing this story to life was conveying the conflict between the different races without having clearly “good guys” and “bad guys.” I tried to create analogues between Alex’s experiences with the various races to show their similarities as well as their differences, and I tried to make the interactions feel strained without any group being relegated to the vagaries of “evil.” Everyone has a reason for what they do, however misguided.
JSC: What secondary character would you like to explore more? Tell me about them.
LRB: I’d really like to write a story featuring Alex’s roommate Emma. She was a human magic-practitioner (a witch), but a backlash from channeling too much magic when she helped Alex fight a necromancer burned out her ability to channel any magic at all, as well as causing her to go blind. Now she’s found a new way to sense the Rift energy that practitioners use to cast magic and she’s trying to find her new normal. She’s clever, enthusiastic, and kind. I’m a little hesitant to write a blind character who has an extra-sensory ability (think Toph from The Last Airbender or Marvel’s Daredevil), but I think she’d be a very fun hero to go on an adventure with.
JSC: As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
LRB: I wanted to be a fighter pilot. I never actually wanted to fight anyone, I just wanted to fly the crazy fast planes that could flip, and bank sharply, and break the sound barrier. I used to spin around endlessly staring up at the sky. I never got dizzy. (Unfortunately, that’s no longer true.)
JSC: Would you visit the future or the past, and why?
LRB: I want a TARDIS so that I can visit anywhen I want! But I guess if I only get a single trip… I think I’d go to the future. I’m curious how it all turns out.
JSC: What are you working on now, and what’s coming out next? Tell us about it!
LRB: Shadow’s Bastion was just published on February 6th, so I’m taking a moment to celebrate that, then it’s on to the next project!
Because the small publishing house that I had previously been working with closed its doors in 2025, I find myself, for the first time in years, not contracted to work on something specific. That’s both terrifying and invigorating. While I absolutely adore the two series that I currently have, and I fully intend to write more in them, I’ve decided to take this opportunity to try something completely different.
I’m writing a trilogy set on a brand new world and featuring a unique magic system—one that blurs the line between sci-fi and fantasy. I’m super excited for this new project, and I can’t wait to share more about it with everyone. I’m hoping to release all three books in 2027. Anyone who wants to receive updates about the project should subscribe to my author newsletter, where I’ll be sharing sneak peeks and teasers as I work on the books.
And now for L.R.’s latest book: Shadow’s Bastoin:
Deals and desperation are a dangerous combination…
Alex will do anything to protect the man she loves from an eternity as the vampire council’s political puppet, but a favor from the fae Lord of Enchantment comes at a steep price. A decision must be made, and she’s running out of time.
The peace summit that will determine the fate of all paranatural beings on Earth is just around the corner, and vampires coming out of the closet isn’t the only complication. Purists are ramping up production of Fantasia—a drug distilled from the bodies of abducted fae to grant magical abilities to mundane humans—and whispers indicate an attack on the summit.
In order to save the summit and protect the people she loves, Alex must travel deep behind enemy lines with the last person she wants to trust as her only backup.
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Excerpt
“Are either of you practitioners?” Mr. Mustache asked.
“No.” Ash responded immediately.
I shook my head and focused on pulling my sleeve down over my bandaged arm.
“Good. Then you won’t mind wearing these.” He dangled two thin metal rings from his fingers.
I swallowed and reminded myself that practitioner magic wasn’t the only magic at my disposal. If push came to shove, I could still call on my fae magic. Right?
Then again, I didn’t actually know how magic-dampening collars worked. . . .
The heavy smell of ginger and garlic that permeated the kitchen made my nose itch, but I forced myself to breathe steadily and hold still while Mr. Mustache circled around behind me. My nerves crackled. Sweat prickled my scalp. My hair was lifted aside, the sensation making me shiver. Smooth steel touched the back of my neck, the sides. The ring completed, latching into place just over my collarbone with a magnetic snap.
Mr. Mustache moved to Ash.
My hands drifted up to the collar. The ring was less than an inch wide and about the thickness of a quarter. A five-knuckle hinge rested against the back of my neck, directly opposite a small box with rounded corners. That would be the locking mechanism.
I was tempted to call up my fae magic right then, to verify that I could still access it . . . but as I understood it, practitioners who tried to cast magic while wearing a collar ended up causing themselves immense pain as the magical energy completed a circuit that delivered an electric shock to the caster. The stronger the magic, the stronger the shock. Probably just touching my fae magic wouldn’t shock me, but my magics tended to mix together. I might not be able to channel one without brushing up against the other, and I couldn’t risk alerting Mr. Mustache that I had magic if I was wrong. So I lowered my hands to my sides and tried to act relaxed as Ash’s collar was secured.
“Are we good to go now?” I asked.
“Almost,” said Mr. Mustache. “I just need to verify the merchandise.”
I gestured to Chase’s cage. “See for yourself. He’s in there.”
Mr. Mustache peered through the front grate and whistled softly. “Shifter fae are hard to track. How’d you catch one?”
“Trade secret, I’m afraid,” said Ash.
Mr. Mustache nodded, then he reached in his bag and pulled out a thin metal rod that telescoped to about two feet long.
I inched closer. “What are you doing?”
“I told you. Verifying.” Mr. Mustache jammed the metal rod through the grate.
Chase let out a pained yowl and smacked against the back of the cage, trying to get away, but Mr. Mustache pinned him in place.
Ash’s hands clamped around my upper arms, holding me fast. I hadn’t even realized I’d moved, but every muscle in my body strained against their grip.
“Be calm,” Ash whispered in my ear.
Mr. Mustache withdrew the iron rod.
Chase’s scream tapered to a pitiful whimper. Seared meat might not have been out of place in the kitchen, but the smell of burnt fur made my stomach turn.
Ash gave my arms one last warning squeeze, then released me. When Mr. Mustache turned around, I had myself under control.
“He’s the real deal.” Mr. Mustache grinned at us, clearly impressed by our cargo.
I met his gaze as calmly as I could and forced myself to smile back, thinking, You’re going to pay for that.
Mr. Mustache collapsed his rod and tucked it back in the bag, then he withdrew a handheld radio. Depressing a button on the side, he said, “Good to go.”
A back door to the kitchen that blended almost perfectly with the white walls opened, and a second man stepped through. This one was shorter than Mr. Mustache—shorter than any of us, coming barely to my chin. He was stocky, with a bushy beard and frizzy brown hair that reached his shoulders. He reminded me of a dwarf from Lord of the Rings.
I frowned. Could he actually be a dwarf? Human lore about elves was based on a variety of fae species, including the sidhe. Stories about dwarves probably had a similar background. I wonder which fae inspired them?
The probably-not-a-real-dwarf held out a small tray that looked like a safety deposit box with a locking lid. “Cell phones and weapons.” His voice was gruff but not unpleasant.
Ash dropped a phone and folding knife into the tray. These were both for show, since Ivan had warned us about the procedure. He’d supplied us each with burner phones and simple weapons, as would be expected. I placed my set of disposable possessions in the box as well. My actual phone was tucked alongside my gun and knife in my backpack at the safe house.
The new guy stepped back, and Mr. Mustache brought out a security wand. “Spread your arms and legs.” He did a quick sweep with the wand to verify we didn’t have any transmitting devices and gave us each a physical pat down to ensure we hadn’t stashed any additional weapons. “Clear.”
The second man closed and locked the metal box that held our props. He handed Ash a small silver key. “Don’t lose this if you want your stuff back.”
Ash nodded and tucked the key into their pocket.
“Follow me,” said Mr. Mustache.
He slung his pack over one shoulder and led us out the back, into an alley that smelled of stale food and mildew. A silver SUV with tinted windows blocked most of the alley. He opened the back door and motioned us to climb inside. I slid through to the far seat and latched my seatbelt. We were almost there. This was going to work.
The second man carried Chase’s cage to the back of the SUV and secured it in the trunk with bungee cords. When he was done, he circled the car and opened my door.
I looked at him curiously. “Forget something?”
“Last step,” he said. He pointed, and I followed his finger to find Ash looking back at me. Mr. Mustache stood beside the other open door. A hypodermic needle glinted in his hand, moving toward Ash. Something sharp pierced the side of my neck.
I twisted, shoving the dwarf-like man away, but the cold pressure surging through my veins told me the damage was done. He closed my door, and the distant echo of a thud told me Ash’s door had been closed as well. I turned to look, but the colors in the car streaked and ran together like paints in the rain.
What the hell was going on? Ivan hadn’t mentioned anything about drugs.
I reached for the latch on my seatbelt, but my muscles turned to jelly. My fingers fumbled against the button. I couldn’t depress it. Whatever he’d given me was very fast acting.
We passed all their stupid tests! But we must have done something to give ourselves away. Had Mr. Mustache noticed my reaction when he hurt Chase despite his back being turned? Had Ash’s illusion wavered when their blood was wiped away?
I slumped in my seat. My shoulder bumped against Ash. My eyes closed. It doesn’t matter what tipped them off. We’re screwed.