The Story Behind THE SEVENTH CHAMPION

The Seventh Champion is now officially launched on the market.

And it’s actually . . . kind of strange?

This is the first book I have published with a traditional house since launching my Sylvia Mercedes name/brand. Which means it followed a traditional publishing schedule.

Which is . . . not at all like indie publishing!

Usually, when I write book, I’m publishing it a month or two later. But this one has been written for quite a long time. So when it has finally come to pub day, it feels a little surreal. Like it’s happening to some other author, not really me.

But it’s also made me stop and think about how this book came into being. Every book I write has a “story behind the story.” And I thought y’all might enjoy hearing this one!

So it all started with me reading The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood.

Now at this point in my life, I was NOT a contemporary romance sort of reader. In fact I had to try The Love Hypothesis several times before I actually got into it, because the style was SO different from anything in my usual reading milieu. I just . . . didn’t . . . get it.

Until suddenly I did.

On my third or fourth attempt (the book was just SO popular, I kept trying, certain I must be missing something), it finally clicked. And when it clicked, I read that book so fast, and with such rapacious enjoyment, it would make your head spin!

It was so silly. So campy and unserious, but with unexpected underpinnings of meaning to give it dimension.

I ate it up with a spoon.

And when I got to the end of it, I thought: I really love that.

And then I thought: The romantasy genre doesn’t really have anything like that.

And then I thought: Is it possible to write a romantasy like that?

At the time—this was back in early 2022, I believe—romantasy as a genre was taking a turn for the dark. There were some cozies out there starting to make waves, but otherwise everything was rather grim.

There wasn’t anything that was like The Love Hypothesis (at least, not that I knew of!). Something that was unapologetically TROPY and FUN, but NOT cozy.

I wanted high-stakes. But I wanted to be full of feel-good warm-and-fuzzies. I wanted dark world-building and epic adventure, but I wanted all the yearning and the pining and the banter and the adorable moments of miscommunication.

And—let’s be honest—I wanted dragons. (When do I not want dragons???)

I started mulling over this concept, all the while working away on my immediate WIPs.

A few months later, a scene suddenly appeared in my head: I saw an assassin, lurking in shadows, knife at the ready. A lovely and obvious princess came toward him down the hall, unaware of her impending doom. He readied himself, prepared to deliver the deadly blow . . .

. . . only for her to GRAB him, PULL him out of his lurking spot, and PLANT A KISS ON HIS MOUTH.

(If you’ve read The Love Hypothesis, you’ll note the kiss-at-first-sight parallels here.)

The scene made me absolutely giggle with pure glee. It was such nonsense. And so stinkin’ FUN.

It also had absolutely no context whatsoever. Who was this assassin? Why was he here to kill this girl? Why in all the hecks would she grab him and kiss him???

I made some notes, but couldn’t really make heads or tails of the story.

So I tucked it away in the back files of my brain, occasionally pulling it out to mull (and giggle) over, but otherwise returned my attention to less ridiculous projects.

Until one day, nearly a year later, inspiration STRUCK.

It was like a door was flung open, and I was pushed through, only to discover the entire plot of The Seventh Champion was already THERE. I just . . . hadn’t seen it yet.

I saw it then. And I spent the next several hours at the computer, madly pounding out the characters, motivations, worldbuilding, settings, plot twists, delightfully SQUEE-WORTHY moments, snippets of banter. Everything.

When the fit of creativity finally abated, and I sat back to look at what I had . . . I loved it.

Completely.

I also had absolutely no time in which to write it. I was deep into drafting the fourth Prince of the Doomed City book and had the final Bride of the Shadow King volume waiting in the wings. Now was not the moment to be distracted.

So I closed down the various files and documents, promising myself I’d get to it . . . eventually.

But.

Buuuuuuuuut.

The story wouldn’t leave me alone.

As 2023 progressed, I found myself sneaking away to “cheat on” my current WIPs.

My husband would come up to my office and ask, “Are you working today?”

“Um, I’m writing,” I’d answer with a grin.

He’d give me a look. “Yes, but are you working . . . or playing with The Seventh Champion?”

Guilty.

It was just too much fun!!! Rosie and Valtar called to me, begging me to tell their story.

Finally, I decided enough was enough. I needed as REASON to prioritize this book and make it a “legitimate” WIP.

So, one very impulsive afternoon, I sent a proposal off to an agent.

Who wrote me back the very next day.

She then sent it off to a certain editor at Ace, who (unbeknownst to us) happened to be a Sylvia Mercedes fan.

And she bought it based on the proposal alone.

Suddenly, I had “permission” to write The Seventh Champion. To make it, not my “cheater” book, but my actual priority.

HUZZAH! Happy endings all around!!!

Well, life doesn’t always work the way we want.

Unfortunately, the period of time in which I wrote The Seventh Champion ended up being a particularly difficult one. (If you’ve read my post on Burnout, you know what I’m talking about.) The actual experience of writing the book ended up being excruciating.

Were it not for Rosie and Valtar and the passion I felt for this project—the pure FUN that permeates every single page—I don’t know if I would have gotten it done at all.

But the story was good.

So good.

Good enough to surmount even my struggles, my deep feelings of inadequacy, and all the lashings of imposter syndrome.

I read it now, and I remember how hard it was to write. And I also think: What a gift this book was. If it had been any other, I might not have gotten through it.

But it was, Providentially, the right book at the right time.

(And the sequel, by contrast, I wrote in an absolute HAZE OF DELIGHT, having recovered from burnout! But more on that later.)