The Story Behind the Story with Author Nick Doyle of Saint John, NB, Canada.

 

We have another new author to the Scribbler for you to meet today. 

I had the pleasure of meeting Nick at the GMRDBook Fair this spring and he has kindly accepted our invitation to be our guest this week 

Read on, my friends.

 

 

Nick Doyle is an author from Saint John, New Brunswick. He’s a securities lawyer by trade and has a background in Greek and Roman history and culture. He likes to use that background to create engaging, mythologically dense stories with a dark twist. His preferred genre is dark fantasy and has two ongoing dark fantasy series. His latest foray into fantasy, Celestial City 66, is the first of a planned trilogy with the second due out Fall 2026.

 

Title: Celestial City 66

 

Synopsis:

In a world swarming with monsters and the decay of a ruined civilization, the small settlement of Mist has survived in relative tranquility. That is, until a terrible creature breaks through Mist’s walls and shatters the peace by infecting the populace with a deadly poison. With no available cure, two youths, Remus Quinn and Claudia Tarr embark on a perilous journey to the north in a desperate attempt to reach the mythical Celestial City 66, the last living city, and the only place medicine able to heal their people might exist.

 

The path north leads through a multitude of dangers from horrifying creatures littering the countryside to bloodthirsty warlords and their gangs of killers. Beliefs are challenged and hands are bloodied all without knowing if the fabled Celestial City 66 truly waits for them at the end of their journey.

 

 

The Story Behind the Story:

The initial idea for Celestial City 66 came from a short story I wrote while I was in law school. While adapting short stories into novels isn’t odd for many writers, it is for me. I’m terrible at writing them and usually avoid doing so. This short story was about a creature that derived elements from Eastern Orthodoxy mythology and some hapless fools that wandered into its cave. It wasn’t very good, but I started imagining what the world outside the cave would be, and this led to me creating a fun post-apocalyptic backdrop. An adapted version of the short story is actually a key chapter in the book and marks the end of its second act.

 

 

Facebook: Please go HERE. 

Scribbler: What has been the most enjoyable about your writing journey, Nick? The least enjoyable?

Nick: Easily my favourite aspect of the writing journey is the weeks following a release where I get to finally see reactions from readers about the stories I’ve had locked up to myself for so long. For the actual craft of writing, I love when I can click with a character so much that I don’t need to consider what they would or should do. They simply act in the story according to their internal beliefs. I have a good number of characters under my belt, and those ones are precious.

The least enjoyable part is the grind. Sometimes things don’t gel, or you’re not feeling the scene. Pushing through that and forcing words on the page even without the muse is always the hardest part for me.





An Excerpt from: Celestial City 66

 

Remus emerged into a different world. Rolling green fog smelling of lavender and cooked meat rose up into the air. It wasn’t coming from the lake. The unnatural vapor wafted from where the gate once stood. Remus pierced the fog and ran to confront the beast. 

He spotted its monstrous shadow through the fog near the chapel. Its arms flung wild, snapping up fearless, stupid men who tried to challenge it in the hope of proving their strength to the Messiah. As Remus got closer, fleshy tubes had sprouted from the sides of the monster, pumping out the green gas that filled the town. Two hunters were stabbing its thick fat but hadn’t pierced its hide. Remus ran to join them. He backed off just as the monster’s left hand smashed one to a paste and swiftly grabbed the other. 

Remus yelled at the top of his lungs and swung the Maneater as he rushed forward. The serrated blade hit the monster’s left arm near the joint and left a long cut. From the beast’s mouth came the pig cry again, spewing equal parts drool and gore that pooled in front of it. Remus followed up his attack, forcing the monster to drop the hunter in its clutches. The blue light of the dangling eye focused on Remus. It reared its other hand back and sent him flying against the wall of the chapel. 

Remus gasped as the air flew from his lungs on impact. Never once did he allow his spear to fall from his hand. He gazed up, his head fuzzy and vision blurry. The fog grew thick, but before a green death enveloped him, he spotted a figure running in his direction. The man’s face was obscured by a black gas mask, but the purple robes meant it had to be the preacher Michael.

“Get out of here,” Michael shouted. 

“But Mist.” It was all Remus could say before he started coughing in the fog. 

“You need to get to the lake.”

“I can’t. I can’t. I have to stop it.”

“Foolish child. Get up and…”

The piercing bang of a gunshot choked off Michael’s words. The preacher turned, muttering to himself. The monster reared its head as its insectoid legs began the long process of turning its hulking mass towards the gate. Another shot broke past the yellow orb of its right eye. The monster wailed, and its giant hand pressed against its leaking face. Chunks spattered into the air as two more shots burst through the beast’s flesh. Emboldened hunters rallied. They were quickly brushed away, but not before opening a series of bloody gashes on the monster’s side. Remus rose to join them, but the preacher Michael held him back.

“No,” Michael said. 

Remus looked past him and saw a swift shadow in the fog, racing like the winged angels of Michael’s sermons. The figure wore a long brown coat with a wide-brimmed hat. His face was covered by a gas mask, and he carried a knife the size of a forearm. The man scrambled up the monster’s back, arm slashing back and forth as he ran along the ridge of the creature’s spine. He reached the forehead and grabbed at the tendril holding up the blue light. The man severed it with two brutal hacks. The light dimmed and the beast sputtered bile and bellowed once again. 

Remus stood in awe as the lone man stood against the giant beast. Both hulking arms clasped together, snatching up the man before he could evade. The beast squeezed, throwing open its mouth in anticipation of a well-earned meal. The man wriggled in the stubby fingers, his hand reaching something on his belt. As the beast dangled him above its gaping mouth, the man tossed a tiny ball downward into the gigantic esophagus. At the same time, he unleashed his knife on the fingers holding him, forcing them to release. Dropped on the ground, the man entered a dead sprint toward Remus and Michael. He fell upon the side of the chapel and covered his ears just as a mighty bang sounded. Remus’s eyes flew open as an explosion rocked the inside of the beast’s stomach, spewing fire, smoke, and the gruesome contents of the beast’s stomach everywhere. Its mouth hung open and it fell to the side, landing among scattered flesh and a strange, blue blood that now seeped into every surface of the village. 

Mouth agape, Remus gawked at the man, who was busy wiping a messy mix of bodily fluids from his coat.

“W-what was that?” Remus asked as the man passed.

“Loimos. Better be worth the grenade.” 

The man left, joining a woman at the gate wreckage. Though a gas mask obscured her face, Remus could recognize that lanky false bravado anywhere—Claudia.

 

 

Thanks for being our guest this week, Nick, and for sharing an excerpt. Your story sounds intriguing.

We wish you continued success with your writing.

 

 

Thank you to all our visitors and readers.

Feel free to leave a comment below.

We’d love to hear from you.