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Klaire Bellamie

At Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer's Association Conference Oct 4-6

Meet Klaire Bellamie

Klaire Bellamie is a born and raised Denver-based writer with a deep appreciation for epic/high fantasy and an interest in the newer genre of romantasy. She holds an undergraduate degree in Writing and a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing . By day, she works a corporate job assisting doctors at a rehabilitation hospital. By night (and lunch breaks, weekends, and even later nights), she creates worlds with her keyboard, filled with haunted histories, malevolent gods, beautiful and sometimes deadly heroines, and whirlwind romances (with a dash of spice). 

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Klaire has always been inspired by Arthurian legends—see her tattoo featuring the lady of the lake and Excalibur—Celtic and Norse mythology, and even more obscure folklore. She attributes this love of history and stories to her grandfather, who used to take her and her little sister on summer adventures to the Nature and Science Museum. Her writing is shaped by and comparable to authors including Bridget Collins, Kerri Maniscalco, Mary E. Pearson, Danielle Jensen, Mark Lawrence, Ruby Dixon, Rebecca Ross, Robin LaFevers, Grace Draven, Rachel Gillig, and Ava Reid—to name only a few…

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When she is not writing, Klaire enjoys reading, cross-stitching, and playing flute in the Mile High Community Band. She has three cats, who are usually more interested in lounging on her keyboard rather than reading her work. 

The World of Allerune

Quotes from Covenant of Crows

  • "How long?" 
    "Eternally. You will never journey to the kingdom of the Gods. You will not enter Eirnan's thrall. Your sword will no longer be your own for you are hallowed by the Netherworld." 

    -Covenant of Crows, Book 1

  • “You do not get to play the martyr, Morwen. I require no sacrifice from you, yet you voluntarily climb upon the pyre at every opportunity.”

    — Covenant of Crows, Book 1

  • "His expression grew distant. The knot in his throat bobbed as he swallowed and turned his gaze back to the valley. “I left an orphaned slave and now return a prince.” Something bothered her about how his shoulders caved slightly. It was as though the mountains had made their home upon his shoulders and he struggled to support their weight.

    “A genuine fairytale,” she replied lightly.

    He angled toward her with a disarming smile. “With a princess on my arm.”

    She shoved her journal into her bag and rose, brushing the grass off her skirt. “Every story ends here.”

     

    — Covenant of Crows, Book 1

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