In the pirate haven of Libertatia, war-dancers subject themselves to extensive surgical procedures, excruciatingly painful nano-implants and retroviral treatments that strengthen their bones, modify their muscles at a molecular level and ultimately change them into what some call ‘transhumans’ and others call ‘aberrations’.
By this token, transhuman slaves sacrifice their humanity to become gladiators for the blood-stained arenas of the pirate brotherhood known as the Blood Bond, where they get a chance at regaining their freedom. Those that survive the procedure are made to serve the Blood Bond in the arena for a certain term, and then they graduate into the pirate fleets, or so would tradition have them believe.
Yet, every so often, a war-dancer not only gains freedom, but actually finds his or her way into the captaincy of a corsair ship. It’s a rare enough occasion, but it has been known to happen. When it does, one can expect the unexpected, for war-dancer captains are not known for their orthodoxy. They are known, however, to take vengeance upon slavers.
The truth is: I write because I enjoy communicating with the reader.
I know full well that, once I hand the narrative to you, you'll make my stories into your own, giving them your own spin with your mind's eye. I like that.
Together, you and I will conspire to create the world that greets you when you read my tales, and that's an enticing prospect.
If I were a songwriter and you a musician, I could give you the notes, but you'd always be playing them to your own rhythm. Writing, as I see it, is a little like that. So, shall we dance?