"Half orc...half goblin...half piss-eye...Half-monster. My father raped my mother and she birthed me!"
A Single Deed
The man hearing this woman’s outburst doesn’t know her father was human and she feels tainted by his blood. But the reader does because A Single Deed is written in the first person.
The novel’s title comes from its prologue: “Can a single deed twist fate toward destruction? The act of which I speak took place before my birth, a spark in a dry forest. For a long while it smoldered out of sight. But when it flared up and engulfed my life, I became convinced that only murder could undo it.”
The deed that the heroine feels compelled to avenge is her conception.
In my Queen of the Orcs trilogy, a human woman embraces the orcs’ matriarchal culture. Eventually she wonders if she can bear an orc’s child. Given the strained relations between the two races, I found that an intriguing question. Nartha-hak is my answer. She doesn’t learn of her parentage until she’s eleven, and it’s shattering news. Eventually, it leads to her drastic choice to venture forth into the human world in a quest for vengeance. There, she discovers too late how ill prepared she is for humanity’s chaotic and violent ways.
In writing this story, I delved deeply into the orcish culture but even deeper into Nartha’s psyche. She’s a richly complex character who feels her soul is orcish despite her mixed blood. Damaged, yet resilient, Nartha is someone you can’t help rooting for. She begins her tale in the middle, describing the horrifying incident that takes place early into her foray among humans. Her actions on that night will have repercussions that resonate throughout the book.