Showing posts with label Nook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nook. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Book Highlight: Beneath the Hallowed Hill



Anne Le Clair travels to Glastonbury with her fiance, Egyptologist and mystic Michael Levy, to investigate a house she has inherited from a mysterious aunt...only to find trouble waiting. One of Avalon's sacred twin springs is failing. Together, Anne and Michael try to restore the water flow, but discover there is much more at stake: the Illuminati master Alexander Cagliostro has activated an ancient crystal tower, tearing a hole in time that threatens so much more than one sacred spring. Meanwhile, in ancient Atlantis, Megan, priestess of the Crystal Matrix Chamber, flees the destruction of her world carrying with herself a vital artifact. (Book 2 of the Power Places Series)


Excerpt:


Something woke Anne. She listened for a sound, but heard only the ticking of an old clock downstairs. She rolled over and snuggled down under the duvet, but sleep did not return. Rather than toss and turn, she crept out of bed, careful not to wake Michael. In the closet among Cynthia's clothes, she found some old jeans and a shirt. At the window, the dark sky held a faint promise of light. Birds twittered in the apple orchard. The earth lay suspended in that silent moment before the tides swing toward morning. Anne made her way down the stairs, avoiding the squeaky step, and found a woolen cloak and clogs next to the back door. She slipped them on and walked through the dark backyard. A rickety wooden gate opened onto the gentle green slope. Above her, Anne could just make out the long finger of St. Michael's Tower. She climbed the wet grass to the steps running up the hill. She stopped to catch her breath at a convenient bench, waiting until the ache in her ribs subsided, then pushed to the top and sat against the old stone tower facing east, waiting for the sun to rise. She closed her eyes for a minute and sank quickly into deep silence.


From the west side of the tower, a lone voice lifted in a wordless chant. She opened her eyes and half turned to see who else had left their warm bed to climb the Tor and greet the dawn, but instead of the tower, she found herself leaning against a tall standing stone. Anne leapt to her feet and backed away.


"Good morning, Cynthia," a voice called from behind her.


Anne whirled to find an older man walking up the last slope of the Tor, his breath steaming in the chill.


The chant cut off mid phrase. Anne turned back to look for the singer and almost rammed her nose into St. Michael's Tower.


"You're up early," the man said.


"What the..." Anne turned back to the newcomer. He wore a woolen cloak similar in make to the one Anne had grabbed from the back porch, but his was a darker brown, almost matching his hair.


"Oh, you're not...I thought..." He came to a halt.


"I'm Anne, Cynthia's niece."


He stood close enough now for Anne to see wisps of silver in his beard. She pointed behind her. "Did you hear someone chanting just now?"


"You heard chanting." It was a statement.


"Yes. And I thought..." She pointed to the tower, then shook her head. "Never mind."


"You thought?"


"The tower disappeared and I saw a standing stone."


He nodded. "Some people see a ring of stones, some just the one."


Anne gave him a closer look.


"When is Cynthia coming back?"


She hesitated. "You haven't heard?"


He shook his head. "Sometimes we are out of touch for months at a time, but we always seem to find each other again."


She took a deep breath. "I'm afraid Aunt Cynthia died late last year in New York."


"Died?" He stepped toward her. "But, such a vital woman."


"It was sudden. A heart attack." No sense telling the world it had been murder.


The man stared at her, eyes wide. Then he shook his head. "Cynthia and I were . . . neighbors." He offered his hand and Anne shook it. "My name is Garth."


"I'm sorry to bring you this news."


He ducked his head and leaned on his walking stick. Finally, he looked up and studied her face. "Anne." He shook his head. "I don't recall..."


"She and my mother were estranged. Cynthia probably never mentioned me."


"Ah, so you're the one."


"Excuse me?"


"The niece she had so much hope for."


Anne stifled her surprise. "So I'm told."


"You've taken up residence?"


Anne nodded. "I inherited the house. We - my fiance and I - we came to see about it. Visit Glastonbury."


"And you're an early riser?"


"Actually something woke me. Probably jet lag."


"I felt it, too." He turned back to the east and gazed out across the downs. The bright curve of the sun lit the horizon. The fields greened under his gaze.


Garth turned back to her. "I hope you and your fiance will come to dinner. I would like to hear more about Cynthia's passing. Perhaps I can help you know her better."


"We'd be delighted."


"It was good to meet you." He walked into the middle of the tower, his shoulders bowed.


Purcahse Beneath the Hallowed Hill at:





About the Author:


Theresa Crater has published two contemporary fantasies, Beneath the Hallowed Hill & Under the Stone Paw and several short stories, most recently “White Moon” in Riding the Moon and “Bringing the Waters” in The Aether Age: Helios. She’s also published poetry and a baker’s dozen of literary criticism. Currently, she teaches writing and British lit in Denver. Born in North Carolina, she now lives in Colorado with her Egyptologist partner and their two cats. Visit her website at http://theresacrater.com

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Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Book Highlight: Expert Assistance

To get out of debt, spacer Jake Bonner takes on two odd jobs. The first, chauffeur pop star Evvie Martini on her tour; the second, helping Daniel and Clarissa Rosen overthrow their planet’s tyrannical ruler. Unfortunately for Jake, Evvie finds out about his second assignment and, hoping to advance her career, invites herself to the revolution.
Excerpt:
The next day Evvie returned to the ship to start her new career as a revolutionary. Before taking them to Antioch Two, Jake had her sit down next to him on the couch. “I think you need to know why this revolution is important to those people,” he told her.
“Well, isn’t that obvious? They need to be free?”
“Yes, well, that’s true. There are more solid reasons for doing this. The situation is a little more complicated that just an evil ruler oppressing his people.”
“Complicated?”
Jake raised a hand. “I’ll explain it to you in terms you can understand, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Great. Now, first of all, the planet is Maxis’ personal property.”
“Is that legal? I thought you couldn’t buy planets. I mean, I tried, once, but...”
Jake cleared his throat. “May I continue?”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Thank you. In point of fact, no, you can’t buy planets. At least not planets that have potential, like Antioch Two and its mineral wealth. You see, Evvie, Maxis’ grandfather lied to his employers about the value of the planet’s potential, and he proceeded to buy it at auction. Instead of owning some worthless rock, he bought one of the richest worlds in human space for almost nothing.”
“Sounds bad.”
“It was beyond bad. It was illegal. Now the world and its wealth belongs to one person, Sordius Maxis. What’s more, Maxis is paying bribes all over the galaxy to hide this fact, to hide how badly he treats the people working for him, and to hide some of his other schemes to fatten his bank accounts. On top of all that, the way he operates his planet isn’t as good as it should be.”
“Isn’t that obvious? He’s a dictator.”
“No, not in the way you’re thinking. His equipment is old, his refinery isn’t turning out as much as it should or could, and the way he keeps everyone in line is limiting how much everyone could be making from such a mineral-rich planet.”
“Oh. Still sounds like a bad man to me.”
“He is, Evvie. The point is he’s bad in more than just the usual ways.”
“Okay, well, that’s fine. What are we going to do about it?”
“We’re going to oust him from power.”
“How? I mean, are we gonna just blast him from space?”
“For one thing, we couldn’t pick him off like that. Not while he’s in the dome. Either we’d hurt people we don’t want to, or we’d miss and alert him that we were there. Besides, this isn’t about getting one man. There’s a system that we have to get rid of. That’s why this is a ‘revolution’ and not a ‘coup.’”
“So what do we do?”
“Well, we get the people to want Maxis out. We undermine his leadership, and tell the people under him what’s really going on.”
“Great. Just so long as it doesn’t involve boring stuff.”
Jake sighed. What have I gotten myself into, he wondered.
Purchase Expert Assistance at:
About the Author:
I've had three SF novels published: "Monitor," "Lisa's Way," and "Expert Assistance." I've also had a coming of age novel published called "True Friends." I've had stories and articles appear in periodicals such as Marion Zimmer Bradley's Fantasy Magazine; Tales of the Talisman; Space Westerns; Sorcerous Signals; Wild West; and Model Railroader.

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Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Book Highlight: Marley: The Other Christmas Carol

Damned!
Marley’s soul was lost, doomed to wander among the ranks of humanity, generation after generation, without the powers to be humane. The curse of his chains was a heavy one, and there were many a time in which he found the weight of said chains to be unbearable. So this must be perfectly understood: Marley was without hope.
Marley’s lot was indeed a sad one. Misery was his meat, and despair was his drink. Nothing of the earth was his except for the cold fingers of the grave. And it was there that Marley would never retreat. The grave was death! Marley had no powers such as those given to other earth-bound spirits. He was a wraith – a wanderer. However, upon saving the soul of a dear friend, he was given a haunting. In this haunting, Marley’s powers could not be equaled. However, one foot off the haunting’s property, and his soul would find itself in endless damnation.
Marley found himself trapped, staring out a window, into an ever-changing world. A world he would never again become a part of. A world of love, laughter, sorrow, and pain, he would always be a stranger to.
Waiting and waiting. Hoping to prove himself worthy.
Excerpt:
The house was infamous, and there were stories. God, were there stories.
One told of a bookkeeper said to be among one of the original owners, who had an experience with spirits that changed his life overnight. Another dealt with a crippled man, during the First World War, who constantly complained of rattling chains in his attic. In his ownership, he never once had a decent night’s sleep.
The house had a reputation, and it came as a shock that a family of Americans were about to move in. Americans!
Kathy Kringle loved an adventure. Not in her wildest dreams did she ever think that she would be moving to England.
She jumped from her seat, holding onto her Manny Mouse doll, leaving the moving van, and started heading off toward her new home. What an adventure! Not only was she moving into a new home, she was moving into a new country. Strange things met her at every turn. Different things. Things she couldn’t understand, such as why the English drove their cars on the wrong side of the road. She made a mental note storing it for later. Kathy thought it was her duty, when she found the time, to write a letter to the King of England, helping to correct that mistake. Cars belonged on the right side of the road, not the left.
Kathy looked down at her doll, which really never left her sight, and asked, "What do you think, Manny?"
Manny appeared to be completely indifferent to the whole affair.
"I know what you’re thinking," Kathy continued. "But Dad’s a good painter. After a few coats of paint, the house will look as good as new." She paused, smiling with relief. "We’re home."
And what a home it was.
Not at all like the studio apartment she knew back in Los Angeles, California.
This house was a castle. Two stories tall, with an attic. The house was huge. Dim oblong windows, wooden peaks, and heavy iron gates greeted her curious eyes with an empty stare.
"Jeez!" Kathy mused.
Two doors slammed shut behind Kathy.
"Kathy, don’t get dirty."
"Okay, Mom." Kathy tucked Manny under her arm and started to rush off toward her new home. Kathy rolled her eyes, thinking that her mother was too protective. "Mothers," She muttered.
Dan Kringle watched with fatherly pride as his daughter darted off through the knee-high snow, wishing to explore her new world. His daughter’s red scarf bobbed up and down, dragging between bright yellow snow boots, as she disappeared from sight.
"Sure beats Los Angeles," he said.
Purchase Marley: The Other Christmas Carol at:
About the Author:
Donald Allen Kirch lives in Kansas City, Missouri. He is an avid reader of history, Sherlock Holmes Mysteries, and the paranormal. He has a degree in Radio and Television Arts, and is listed in "Who’s Who in America." He is the author of a monthly article that appears in "Suspense Magazine" entitled "Stranger Than Fiction: True Stories of the Paranormal." After spending two weekends in the famous "Sallie House," a "haunted house" featured on the Fox TV-series Sightings, in Atchison, Kansas, he is one of the only authors of his genre who can claim to have been attacked by a ghost!

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Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Book Highlight: Enchantments

Enchantments is an allegorical tale told in prose and verse.
Though born and raised in the elvin land of E’alowen, E’lienna, daughter of Lady Claire, a human, and Gle'anden, prince of elves, longs to better understand her human lineage. She sets out from E’alowen and into human lands. There, she visits the wizened Mage of Dur, a long-time friend to her parents and all elvinkind. She discovers that the wizard is secretly working to help bring about a new age throughout the land of humankind. For he reveals to her that a babe, born of a king, has been secretly hidden away until such time when he is grown so that he may fulfill a prophesy made long ago of a king of men who will grow to rule the land with justice and mercy.
Through her quest to find out more about her mother’s past and about this king of men, E’lienna uncovers the mystery behind a tragedy that befell her family years ago and, in the process, discovers that the worlds of men and elves are much more deeply entwined than either have believed.
Excerpt:
Prologue
My name is E’lienna. I am daughter to a human woman and an elvin prince. Both bloods flow within my veins, the human and the elvish. This very thing it is which brings up longing deep within me, a longing in my heart and mind to find my own place in both worlds.
Born into a time of change for elf and humankind alike, I have always sought out answers far beyond my elvin kin’s embrace. Many stories tell of how the worlds of men and elves are weaving. This is my own story. So listen, if you’ve mind to hear, and I’ll recount my tale to you in that fashion keeping with the long-held elf tradition; poetry and prose entwining.
The Beginning
While moon shines bright and full, I ride out from my elvin wood, E’alowen, and under hood and cloak, I keep myself quite hidden. After I have ridden under summer’s silken stars for three nights and three days, I finally come upon the village where the wizard dwells. I’ve come to visit him.
I reach his cottage just at dusk and knock upon the door three times. He opens it and clearly is astonished by my visit.
“E’lienna!” says the sage. “Child, what brings you here?”
“Good Mage,” say I, “I am no child. Sixteen years have crowned me. I have come in hope of finding answers to a mystery which will not be explained to me by either of my parents. So please, good sage, will you engage in sharing what you know? For you are wise and friend to both my father and my mother.”
“Do they know that you are here?” he asks, and strokes his beard.
“Of course, good mage!” I answer truly. (Elves don’t lie or trick.) “It was they who told me you might offer clarity! Now will you let me in?”
And so the wizened Mage of Dur ushers me inside. His cottage proves a simple hut, yet comfortable and cozy.
“Sit. Please sit. And have some tea,” he says, upon my entering.
He serves it on a wooden tray, in two clay cups, all painted brightly. Then he sits himself across the large old wooden table, smiles and cocks his head.
“Now, pray, tell me why you’ve come.”
I pull a locket from the bag which hangs about my waist and open it to show, inside, two portraits, small as thumbnails.
“Sir,” I say, “I want to know whose picture this might be.”
On the left, my mother smiles, her sixteen year-old face all rosy. On the right, another girl stares out from sullen eyes. Their faces seem so similar. Hair and eyes, chin and cheek, both share all the same fine features. Yet they could not be more different—one a joyous angel, filled with light and magic, one an angry, brooding creature, shadowed, bleak and tragic.
I set the locket down before him. Even before looking, he begins to nod his head then sighs and closes his dark eyes as if he knows already who the woman must have been.
“No wonder Claire sent you to me,” he finally says, “and I agree it was a good thing that she sent you here. For this tale is a tale of grief—for her and your poor grandmother. Because you ask this task of me, I’ll tell you what I can.”
He pauses. I wait. Then he takes a long and heavy breath.
“How shall I begin? This portrait, E’lienna, is of your mother’s sister.”
“Mother has no sister!” I exclaim.
“Now, good child,” he says, “you must allow me to explain. And without interruption! As I said, I’ll tell you what I’m able. But I warn you, E’lienna, this is not a fable! This is sorrow. This is pain. Now, shall I start, again?”
The air hangs still, a silent weight that seems quite palpable. I swallow back my sudden feeling of dismay and answer, “Yes, dear mage, continue on, I pray. I will hold my tongue, I promise. ‘Til the end of it.”
Purchase Enchantments at:
About the Author:
Susan M. Botich writes science-fiction and fantasy. She is also a freelance writer, poet, songwriter and performing musician. She has lived all over the United States from California to New York, Alaska to Hawaii, Washington to the Midwest of Iowa and Minnesota and even the high desert of Northern Nevada. She and her husband have recently made Bend, OR their home.
Susan is an eclectic reader, having interests that bridge physics and metaphysics, social and spiritual issues, and multiple genres of fiction. She simply loves to read a good story. She became a science-fiction and fantasy fan as a teen. She has always been an avid reader but turned her focus to story writing after marriage and family in her early thirties.
Susan has recently published her science-fiction novel, The Dream Star, as well as a fantasy verse-novel, Enchantments. Both books are available through amazon.com in both Kindle and print edition and barnesandnoble.com as a Nook book. Readers may also buy her books through her website www.susanbotich.com.

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Wednesday, July 04, 2012

Book Highlight: Under the Stone Paw


Anne Le Clair, a successful, young attorney, has always managed to remain free from her family's gothic past - until now. When she inherits her eccentric aunt's antique necklace though, she finds no escape from its secrets. Anne is immersed in a crash course of forbidden wisdom, secret societies, and her family's own legacy. She soon discovers that her aunt's necklace is one of just six powerful "keys" that, when combined with the other five at the appointed time, unlocks the legendary Hall of Records. But the shadowy Illuminati is working behind the scenes to uncover the same powerful secrets - and make them their own.

Excerpt:

"So you have this whole secret life I know nothing about?" Anne quipped.

Thomas was quiet.

"Oh, my God." Anne put down her drink and stared at him. "You do, don't you?"

"Let's just say I know more about the family than you do. But you knew that already, dear sister."

The main course arrived, and Anne began methodically cutting up her steak, wondering how to breech this gap between them.

"Why do you persist in eating that stuff?" he asked. "You know how much heart disease there is in our family."

"It's from Argentina. No chemicals. Besides, we die from assassinations, don't we?"

Thomas frowned. "Cynic."

"So, if you knew Cynthia so well, why didn't she leave you her whole estate?"

"She left me her library, all her papers and research."

"Everybody knows you love those dusty family archives."

"Besides, some things have to go through the female line."

Anne sat forward. "Like what? What does that mean, anyway?"

Thomas considered her. "Do you really want to know?"

"Of course. Oh, you are so exasperating. Why do you all have to be so mysterious?"

"Who else is being mysterious?"

The waiter came to ask if everything was acceptable, and Anne was saved from further comment.

After a moment, Thomas asked, "What is it you're not telling me?"

"You're the one hiding things."

"Annie." Thomas took her hand. "This is your big brother talking to you. What's the matter?"

Anne looked up at the amber eyes fixed on her.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Why have you never told me about your relationship with Cynthia before now?"

"Because Mother insisted I leave you out of it, and when you got older, you made it clear you weren't interested in learning more of the family, uh," he hesitated, "legacy. I respected your wishes."

Anne considered this. It was true that when Thomas had tried to talk about his ideas or tell her a family story, she resisted, even ridiculed him. He often flew off to explore the musty libraries of some minor branch of a noble family or an obscure metaphysical organization, but she never listened when he told her about an enticing find. It never excited her. It only served to annoy her that this brilliant man wasted his talents on such pursuits. She'd accepted her mother's view of things as a child and never really questioned her rational worldview. "I guess there's a lot I don't know about you."

Thomas set his glass down and looked across the table at Anne. "I've often wished that was different."

Now the words tumbled out. "I had these weird dreams last night, and Aunt Cynthia left me this odd necklace as a gift with a very peculiar note."

Thomas glanced around. The tables nearest them were empty. "Tell me what happened. I want to hear about the note and the crystal. Please. This is very important."

"How did you know it was a crystal?"

Thomas ignored the question. "Tell me what happened.

Anne relayed the story of the crystal necklace, the note from Cynthia and the faces she'd seen sitting before the fire. When she finished, Thomas studied her for a long time. "Say something. You're making me nervous."

"Actually, that might be an appropriate response to this development."

"What do you mean?"

Thomas squared his shoulders. "You need to make a decision and you need to make it quickly. You've always told the family you wanted nothing to do with our legacy." Anne started to speak, but he interrupted her. "Hear me out. If you keep this crystal, then you'll have to learn what it's for and how to use it."

"Use it? It's just a necklace."

"It is far more than a necklace, my dear sister. You've already had a vision using it."

"Vision? I fell asleep on the couch."

"Oh, right." He looked around again, then lowered his voice. "If you don't want to take on the responsibility of being the keeper of this crystal, then you must give it to Grandmother Elizabeth immediately. If you keep it like some bauble in your jewelry case, your life may be in danger."

"My life?"

"Quiet." Thomas looked around again.

Anne lowered her voice. "Make sense. How can a necklace threaten me?"

"I'm sorry, Anne. I want to tell you, but we can't talk about this here."

Anne sat back in her chair. "What's the big deal?"

"Are you staying at the estate after the party?"

"I always do."

"Good. We can talk Sunday. I think Grandmother will want to join us. Is that okay with you?"

"What is the big deal?" Anne repeated more emphatically.

"I'll tell you then. Meanwhile, just leave the necklace in its case."

Anne sighed.

"And don't tell mother."

"For God's sake…"

"Please." Thomas watched her earnestly.

"Oh, all right. But I think Mother is right. The family has damaged your common sense."

"Good. Now I've got to scoot."

Purchase Under the Stone Paw at:



About the Author:

Theresa Crater has published two contemporary fantasies, Beneath the Hallowed Hill & Under the Stone Paw and several short stories, most recently "White Moon" in Riding the Moon and "Bringing the Waters" in The Aether Age: Helios. She's also published poetry and a baker's dozen of literary criticism. Currently, she teaches writing and British lit in Denver. Born in North Carolina, she now lives in Colorado with her Egyptologist partner and their two cats. Visit her website at http://theresacrater.com

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Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Book Highlight: The Hunter's Rede


Lorth of Ostarin is an assassin trained by a wizard unknown to his kind. He is paid very well to employ both the primeval darkness of a hunter and the ordered light of a mage, an uneasy combination he does not question until he returns home after a long assignment and trips into a turbid river of war, politics and the violation of all he holds dear. Lawless and adept, he picks no sides and takes no prisoners. When his wolfish ways get him imprisoned for crimes he did not commit, he discovers the deeper source of his ability and falls in love with a priestess who frees him to his fate. But the rift in his heart widens under the forces of love, loyalty and the occupation of his realm by a warlord who honors neither hunters nor wizards. To reclaim his homeland, Lorth must bow his head to death itself, a sacrifice that will transform him into the most powerful hunter the land has ever known.


Excerpt:


Warm rain caressed the babargon trees that crouched on the rise overlooking the Anglorean outpost deep in the Tarthian jungle. In a land with no winter, the autumnal equinox had just passed; the new moon hung like a stagnant pool above the woolen cloud cover. As night stole the last of the light, fog settled into the shadows, muting voices, hiding movement and sinking its teeth into the imaginations of tired, wounded warriors.


An assassin gazed upon the captain's tent with the patience of a praying mantis. He did not need light to know where it stood. Unseen and unknown to all but the few who paid him, his tall, lean body draped between the weeping trees, he waited, his mind caressing the glimmering watch-web he had cast around his post to warn him of any unwitting intrusion.


In his homeland of Ostarin far to the north, they called him a hunter. Here, they called him kav'tib, which in their fluid tongue meant warlock, in no good terms. Icaros, the wizard who had raised him after the earth took his mother away, once said, "There is more to being a wizard than pretty tricks! The Keepers of the Eye know the minds of gods."


The hunter was far from that. But his tricks, such as they were, proved good enough for the Tarthian nobility. They had hired him for being lawless and without loyalties, a servant of the Old One, the primeval, feminine force of cycles, birth and death who knew all things even beyond the timeless ramparts of gods. Even so, he would not be the most skillful, highest paid assassin in Sourcesee without the things Icaros had taught him. He knew things beyond his multifaceted training as a warrior, things only wizards knew.


For seven years, he had hired out his services to the warlords of Tarth, an empire of wet, wooded lands that had as many boats as carts, a desolation of brackish marshes, towns on stilts, jungles dripping with moss and the warm, fragrant nectars of constant rain. All manner of life grew here, every kind of creature that crept, slithered, swam or flew, humans notwithstanding. These were bronze-skinned, tall, with rounded noses and deep-set eyes the color of swamps, eyes that knew the mysteries of things that flowed. Dominated by the Great Reson Fen near the borders of Anglorea, Tarth was known for its concoctions, everything from rich, heady drinks to narcotics, medicines—and of course, poisons.


Purchase The Hunter's Rede at:





About the Author:


F.T. McKinstry grew up studying music and classical literature, and at a young age developed a deep love for fantasy and the esoteric, of which she was an avid reader. J.R.R. Tolkien was her most powerful influence. With a background in computer electronics and software development, she wrote and illustrated technical documentation for many years, during which time she created the fantasy world of Ealiron. A passion for fairy tales and a lifelong study of mythology, plant and animal lore, Celtic legend, shamanism, psychology and mysticism provide inspiration and scope for her work.

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Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Book Highlight: Lisa's Way

Teenager Lisa Herbert lives in the small town of Mountain View on the planet Fairfield. The “Savage Rain” decades earlier shut down the hyperspace gate and isolated her world. A casual remark from her sister gets Lisa to ask a simple question: “If life was better before the ‘Savage Rain,’ why couldn’t it be better again?”
That question starts Lisa on a journey. She reactivates Fairfield’s H-gate and travels to three worlds. Each planet offers her a chance to improve life by hard work, by trade, or by making friends. She relies on her brains, her compassion, and a little sneakiness to solve the problems she faces. Lisa’s Way presents a heroine more interested in reasoning than fighting, and more concerned with doing good than looking good.
Excerpt:
Lisa stared at the trio of armed young men standing in the middle of the road. They wore ragged clothes; their weapons were scuffed by age. She could hear movement in the woods one either side of the road. These three had allies under cover.
How many she didn’t dare to guess. She had fourteen on her side, not counting Wayne’s and Dave’s young children. If they were willing to confront her group they would need at least ten, including those three. She had two people with bows in front of each wagon. The eight riders had hand weapons.
They could take on these outlaws, no question. The three in front of her looked pretty lean. Maybe they’ve faced warriors before, but more than likely they haven’t. While her opponents might be hungry and outmatched, they did have combatants under cover. Her side would probably win, but not without losses.
Lisa remembered Coe’s warning about outlaws and robbers. That meant that killing them could make her a powerful enemy, or it could silence a source of information she'd need. It made fighting them awfully risky. That left her to choose between turning around and trying to talk to them.
I’ll talk. They won’t be expecting that. And maybe that gives me an advantage.
Purchase Lisa's Way at:
About the Author:
I've had three SF novels published: "Monitor," "Lisa's Way," and "Expert Assistance." I've also had a coming of age novel published called "True Friends." I've had stories and articles appear in periodicals such as Marion Zimmer Bradley's Fantasy Magazine; Tales of the Talisman; Space Westerns; Sorcerous Signals; Wild West; and Model Railroader.

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Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Book Highlight: Exit, Pursued by a Bee

Exit, Pursued by a Bee is driven by an Arizona-bred heroine-astronaut, involves a Palaeolithic mongrel call Kur, Glastonbury Festival chaos, steamy sex in space, a loose-cannon journalist and an out-of-control general. They are all involved in the attempt to overcome time-quake calamities created when alien artefacts depart from Earth, oblivious to the chaos they leave behind. This book smashes our assumptions about time in astonishing ways.
Excerpt:
June 23rd Lunchtime on the mystical hill of Glastonbury. The famous festival music could just be heard.
She’d already told herself this was no ordinary earthquake. She’d experienced a few first hand in California, and they didn’t rumble on for ages like this. They come in short bursts, only seconds long. Yet the hill was shaking so much she had difficulty keeping her feet. She reached the piece of sandy-coloured limestone bedrock against which she’d first steadied herself, and aimed the digital videocam east, at the distant Glastonbury Festival. She’d expected to see emptying fields as the crowd escaped, but she could see on the distant giant screens, a rock group leaping and twisting as they belted out another musical gem.
...
Reaching the shallow fissure, she plunged the spade in. Why did she have an urge to dig? Defying logic she dug more in the mix of soil, turf and limestone. Another minor upheaval, releasing earthy smells into the air, sent her onto her back. She saw Derek thrown to the floor too as he tried to reach her. Back on her feet, her ears aching from the roaring noise, she raised the shiny new spade and stabbed again at the chasm, which had opened a little more. Again it merely struck limestone rubble, jarring her arm. An urge compelled her to see if anything just beneath the thin soil was responsible for this phenomenon. Was it a result of logical analysis that this event couldn’t be related to seismic disturbance nor volcanic? No. Her logic circuits partly worked that out but a more ethereal need drove her on. A feeling, intuition; a culmination of the esprit of Avalon, her scientific and engineering training, along with bloody-minded curiosity forced her to lift the spade again.
“Come back down, Kal. For God’s sake,” yelled Derek, his voice wailing across the thundering noises.
Clang. The spade hit another rock sending sparks where quartzite and steel met. Her nostrils pinched with a smell of burnt sulphur bringing memories of when as a child she smashed a lump of white and grey quartzite laced with yellow sulphur. She dropped the spade, which slithered further into the crack out of reach. She rested her enviably flat stomach on the ground, feeling small stones through her shirt. Stretching, she grabbed the handle. A strange tingling sensation travelled up her arm to her head. Totally, unlike anything she’d experienced, and she’d been through throb hell: stinging nettles on this hill, purple-striped jellyfish at Long Beach, and the literal hair-raising moment when a shuttle simulator became a stimulator with an accidentally electrified hull. But none of these buzzed her brain. Not that her grey matter was frying, but it had tingled. She had the prescience and presence of mind to consider that her arm was slipping in and out of phase, but it could’ve been the increased vibration.
“Kallandra. Good God, woman, come back down before you turn into a firework.”
“I will. Just let me get this spade.”
Although the shaking ground made upward travel more like a fairground ride, Derek managed to reach her. “Bugger the spade. You should’ve seen yourself.”
“I nearly did. What did you see?”
“Your hair stood up like a luminous porcupine.”
“That’ll be my blue highlights. I knew they’d set off my brown hair.”
“How can you be so calm? We’re in the middle of Armageddon.”
“That’s why I’m a pilot and you’re an engineer.”
“And spaceship designer. Your life support system would soon fizzle out—”
“Without your cunning design. I don’t underrate your genius, Derek, but you do panic unnecessarily. Now can you reach the spade handle? It’s slipped further down.”
“Leave it. I’ll buy you a dozen.”
“I want that one. Something’s happened to it. There, you have it.”
They both stared at the shiny business end. At least two inches was missing as if it had been dipped into the sun.
“That’s it,” Derek said, his voice trembling with fear in addition to the physical quivering. “It must be a volcano and we’re on top of it!”
“It can’t be. Feel the cut end, it’s cool.”
“For Heaven’s sake, Kal, you could’ve burnt yourself.”
“Life is one big chance event, Derek. Anyway, you win. Let’s go before these clouds of gnats suddenly remember we’re food.”
Purchase Exit, Pursed by a Bee at:
Note: When bought through the publishers Double Dragon Publishing the purchaser may freely download an Escape Velocity magazine.
About the Author:
Geoff Nelder has a wife, two grown-up kids, and lives in rural England within an easy cycle ride of the Welsh mountains.
Publications: Humorous thriller Escaping Reality in 2005; Award-winning science fiction mystery with hot-blooded heroine, Exit, Pursued by a Bee in 2008; Another thriller, Hot Air, was published in 2010 after receiving an Award d’Or from an Arts Academy in the Netherlands.; A science fiction trilogy, ARIA with an original premise is to be published in 2012 by LL-Publications.; An urban and historical magic realism fantasy, Xaghra’s Revenge, is in the hands of the Rebecca Pratt Literary Agency.
Having had around 50 short stories published, Geoff was chosen to be the short fiction judge for the Whittaker Prize, 2009. Geoff is an editor at Adventure Books of Seattle, and is a freelance editor for other writers.

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Monday, June 04, 2012

Review: The King's Bastard


"The King's Bastard: King Rolen's King Trilogy, Book 1" by Rowena Cory Daniells

File Size: 886 KB/849 KB
Print Length: 640 pages
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing Limited (July 13, 2010)
Language: English
ASIN: B004SAE54K
ISBN-13: 978-1849971782 (Ebook)
ISBN-13: 978-1907519017 (paperback
Purchase: Kindle, Nook, Paperback, Mass Market Paperback
Website: www.corydaniells.com

This is what fantasy is all about! I was immediately sucked into the world created by Ms. Daniells. I fell in love with the main character, Byren, almost immediately and was rooting for him through the whole book.

I was so sad when the book ended - a cliffhanger that left me literally screaming to know what happened next. I felt the author left off at a bad spot of the plot line - almost in the middle of the climax. I would have preferred, even with things left open, to have it stop at a more quiet part of the story line, rather than the middle of the action. It was simply an abrupt stop.

However, I loved this book. It has a bit of everything in it - politics, magic, love, friendship, treachery, intrigue, adventure - and the list goes on! I couldn't stop turning the pages, wanting to know what happened to the main characters of the story, praying they didn't have one more bad thing happen to them. I highly recommend this book to fantasy readers everywhere -really anyone who loves a great book!




Reviewed by: Anastasia V. Pergakis

A free copy of this book was furnished by the author for review, but providing a copy did not guarantee a review. This information is provided per the regulations of the Federal Trade Commission.

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Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Book Highlight: The Dream Star

Kalindi, a 16 year-old Dreamer-seer and devoted follower of The Way, is guided by a terrifying Dream to journey with a strange yet fascinating young man named Atman to the distant holy city of the Ancient Ones, the Center of the World. Their goal: to rid the land of the horrible intruding alien beings who have infiltrated the city. Along the way, she discovers that everything she believed to be true about her world, Tamar, is a deception.
Atman is not who he first claims to be, the alien intruders have mind-control powers beyond any Dreamer's, and the city of the Ancient Ones holds perplexing mysteries never mentioned in the holy Chronicles.
Kalindi sets out on a journey that leads her to find love, uncover the truth about her people’s mysterious ancestors, and inspire an interplanetary revolution.
Excerpt:
Chapter 1 – The Dream
In Dream, I stand outside the holy city of the Ancient Ones, the Center of the World. All around me Tribefolk scramble in panic. Mothers scream for their children. Men scurry to muster their weapons. Sheep and goats bleat, desperate to escape their pens. The clamor beats through the wind that swirls the plain’s dust into a blinding grit. It twists into my ears, sharp and cold. Whipping from behind, it billows my sleeping-gown out in front of me. Then, turning course, slaps it tight against my breasts and abdomen. I peer through the dust. A huge silver disk, larger than the ancient Center itself, hangs in the air just above the city walls. If it falls, it will crush the city. I gulp down my fear.
I am in Dream. And I know this Dream-vision cannot harm me. And Tribefolk are not my people. But still, my every instinct screams for me to force myself to wake up. I will not give in to it. I am a Dreamer, a seer, trained to never give in to fear. I force myself to breathe, to concentrate with all my strength on the chaos around me.
From out of the swirling dust, a group of strange figures appear. Their long, gray robes twist in the wind against tall, skeletal bodies. One saunters close enough for me to glimpse his face from under his hood. Terror seizes me. These beings are not Tamarian!
I count two dozen. But more keep walking from out of the dust storm. They disperse into the ragged knots of Tribemen who stand with spear and ax in hand to fight. My attention is riveted by the one whose face is exposed to me. He turns, revealing his eyes. As if two small wells of black ink, they show no emotion, not even the smallest trace of compassion or empathy. He walks up to a fist of Tribemen set to strike him down and waves his hand as one would at a swarm of flies. All together, the Tribemen stagger, stupefied. They drop their weapons in unison and stand dumb, stiff and lifeless as straw dolls.
There are so many of the bony ones. They act quickly and seem to understand one another without speaking. One of them turns to his kin. The other nods and begins to gather up the Tribemen as a shepherd gathers sheep. All around me the intruders motion with their hands for the Tribemen to move toward the ground beneath the whirring disk. As if under a fever spell, all the Tribemen mutely obey.
The herded cluster is soon a mass of Tamarian flesh. The whirring breath of the disk grows, sweeping out in all directions. It blows a hot exhale across the plains. Then, from out of its belly, a light falls across those beneath. The dazed captives shimmer in its glow for an instant then disappear. Horrified, my Dream-body tenses. I want to run. But to where? A Dreamer cannot run from Dream. We are to watch, listen, and pay attention. No matter how wondrous the Dream. Or how frightening.
Women, children and elder men left behind scatter in every direction. A little boy turns round and round in circles with wild eyes, wailing. Though I have only just come into womanhood, the maternal desire to hold him, comfort him, and protect him as if he were my own child fills me. But, of course, I cannot. I am as a ghost. Invisible.
A Tribe girl races by and snatches him up then sprints away. Everyone is screaming, shouting. I cannot make out the guttural inflections of the Tribefolk but their meaning is obvious: Run for your lives! Crazed, they flee toward the hills that lead into the wooded mountains where, long ago, my people, Village folk, chose to build our homes. There, nestled in the bosom of the Angelina Mountains, we have remained, ever since.
The Tribefolk have always stayed in the plains and we Villagers in our mountains. This is how we have maintained peace between our two cultures. But are we now being invaded by others? How can that be? Panic pricks at the back of my neck like needles. Is this Dream-vision a premonition of a possible future or is it happening right now while I sleep? I turn my Dream-body to the east, close my eyes and beseech the wisdom of my ancestors.
Why have I been given this Dream, Ancient Ones? What does it mean? What am I to do?
Falling to my knees, I turn my face to the gray blur of sky and wait for the answer.
Purchase The Dream Star at:
About the Author:
Susan M. Botich writes science-fiction and fantasy. She is also a freelance writer, poet, songwriter and performing musician. She has lived all over the United States from California to New York, Alaska to Hawaii, Washington to the Midwest of Iowa and Minnesota and even the high desert of Northern Nevada. She and her husband have recently made Bend, OR their home.
Susan is an eclectic reader, having interests that bridge physics and metaphysics, social and spiritual issues, and multiple genres of fiction. She simply loves to read a good story. She became a science-fiction and fantasy fan as a teen. She has always been an avid reader but turned her focus to story writing after marriage and family in her early thirties.
Susan has recently published her science-fiction novel, The Dream Star, as well as a fantasy verse-novel, Enchantments. Both books are available through amazon.com in both Kindle and print edition and barnesandnoble.com as a Nook book. Readers may also buy her books through her website http://www.susanbotich.com/.

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Monday, May 28, 2012

Review: The Caline Conspiracy


"The Caline Conspiracy" by M.H. Mead

File Size: 429 KB/593 KB
Print Length: 210 pages
Publisher: Ion Productions (March 16, 2012)
Language: English
ASIN: B007LNNHMW
BN ID: 2940014314527
Purchase: Kindle, Nook, E-Reader, Paperback
Website: www.yangandcampion.com

This was an enjoyable read.

Aidra, the lead character, gets a case she doesn’t really want and that seems like it’s pretty straight forward. Still she gives it her best effort and soon discovers this case is more than she bargained for.

Aidra is a likeable character, tough, but with a vulnerable side. She is resourceful and observant and knows when to handle things herself and when to ask for help.

The case she’s working on is interesting and had me invested from the start. The calines are intriguing and give this detective story a slight SciFi feel. The investigation is set up very nicely and gives you just enough information to try and make some guesses while dragging you further into the mystery and intrigue.

I liked how Aidra’s investigation leads to her not only having to find the truth about Frithke‘s death, but also to question herself.

Next to this being a suspenseful detective story this story also makes you think and touches on some rather sensitive subjects. I really liked this deeper layer and it had me thinking even after I finished the book.

The one negative thing I could say about this story is that some of the other characters stay a bit one dimensional, but this being a novella and not a full length novel, it’s only to be expected that not everything can be worked out in full detail, so it’s only a minor flaw in my opinion.

All in all this is a cool read that challenges you to think.



Reviewed by: Carien Ubink

A free copy of this book was furnished by the author for review, but providing a copy did not guarantee a review. This information is provided per the regulations of the Federal Trade Commission.

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Friday, May 25, 2012

"The Sword Bearer" Giveaway Winners!



“Sword Bearer” tells the story of Jonran who, under the burden of a highly technological world, finds an opportunity to escape through a magic portal. After passing through, he awakes to find himself on a more primitive planet and his body has been transformed into that of an ancient race of a long forgotten people.


Jonran is quickly captured and taken into slavery where he befriends a skilled yet questionable thief who helps him through the many trials of slavery. After their eventual escape, their paths split and Jonran stumbles alone into the protected elven lands where he falls in love with an elven woman, while his friend finds a future with a resistance force fighting a corrupt human government.


As they both seek an end to the violence, Jonran is led on a journey to a magic sword and on a quest to help a wizard to free his master, who is locked in battle with an evil invading army. That sword, combined with the crystals of the Elemental Lords, is the only hope to push back the enemy horde and save the world.


Will Jonran have what it takes?


Author of "The Sword Bearer", Charles Landreth held a giveaway for his wonderful book last week. Today we have the winners! You can read the interview with Charles HERE.


AND THE WINNERS ARE...


Fawn M


Mike Scarborough


Congratulations everyone!


To claim your prize, please email us at sciyourfiblog @ gmail.com. We will get you in touch with Charles so we can get your contact information to send you your signed copy of "The Sword Bearer".

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Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Book Highlight: The Hour of Tiamat

We've all heard of the Mayan predictions of a vast change coming in the year 2012; but it turns out the ancient Sumerian people had a very similar prophecy...
The dreaded Necronomicon, a book of fable said to contain all the ancient knowledge of the Sumerian civilization has surfaced and fallen into the hands of four teenagers in a small Texas town. Tonight, after years of studying its dark teachings in secret, they gather to call back to Earth those Gods that tried to enslave humanity over ten thousand years ago, and in turn become rulers themselves.
Under threat of his life, Tristan helps them complete the ritual; but does that mean it is too late to stop this apocalypse? With Evelyn, whose past and future seem inextricably linked to Tristan, their friend Hunter and a host of surprising paranormal helpers, Tristan will race against murderers, monsters, and time itself to shut the ancient gate before our evil creators are upon us again.
Excerpt:
Tristan kept his breathing shallow as he trailed behind Malaki and Tara, keeping in the trees and watching where he stepped. The animals, it seemed, were just as restless as the day before, and he had to fight not to jump every time some creature brushed him.
The more his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the more animals he saw on either side of him. They seemed to be following Malaki and Tara too, but he shook his head at the thought. They couldn’t be. The wolves and deer, rodents and birds, reptiles and bobcats, they had no reason to follow. What could they possibly know? Yet he saw all of those and more as he walked slowly and quietly, and he had to fight harder and harder to keep his breathing quiet.
“We’re here,” he heard Tara breathe quietly ahead of him. Sure enough, just up the path was the tell-tale clump of bushes that hid their cave of stashed goods. Well, it was now or never. The pistol was in the bags inside the cave, but he still had his knife on him. Why did it always have to be by knife?
He hesitated for a moment at the thought of killing again, a familiar churning in his stomach, but the rage coursing through him erased any hesitation. They would give anything to kill the only two people in the world he loved. He realized that this time, it was probably kill or be killed, and he found it didn’t matter.
“Branches in this bush are broken, they’ve been here,” Malaki said as he jogged ahead of Tara, starting to make his way through the brush. Okay, Tristan thought. Then Tara is first. And without a sound, he cocked back his arm, cold metal held between his fingertips, and flung the shining blade from the darkness, running after it even as the point sunk into Tara’s side, sending her sprawling sideways.
“What the…” Malaki started, turning at Tara’s muffled gasp of surprise, but by the time Malaki was free of the bushes again, Tristan was pulling his knife from Tara’s side, cold eyes trained on Malaki. Tara wasn’t dead, but didn’t seem to be able to move, and she grasped her side, breathing heavily, trying to hold in the steady stream of warm blood. Her dark eyes focused on the two momentarily before her head fell to the ground.
“This isn’t worth this crap,” she muttered to herself as she scooped up dirt from the ground placing it on the wound. Sure, it might get infected, she thought, but if the blood turned the dirt to mud, maybe it would help clot the wound and stop the bleeding.
Malaki paid no attention to Tara, but cocked his head in surprise at Tristan. He glanced back to the cave opening, then to Tristan.
“Well, clearly you’re still bent on saving the world, so what happened? Your little girly in there get mad at you and stop putting out?” He sneered. Tristan didn’t respond, but his blood boiled and eyes grew angrier. “Ah,” Malaki continued as if he’d just had a revelation. “I see. So she is the bitch’s daughter after-all.” He laughed at Tristan, who stood stone still. “Well that had to be awkward.” Tristan struggled to control his breathing. Don’t let him get to you, he repeated to himself. You have to stay focused. Don’t rush. As long as he’s out here, he’s not hurting them.
Unfortunately the same thought seemed to have occurred to Malaki.
“Look, I don’t have time for this,” Malaki said, stepping away from the bushes and slowly starting to circle Tristan. “So if we’re going to do this, let’s get it over with, huh?” Tristan smiled, a slightly crazier gleam in his eye than he’d probably ever displayed before.
“My pleasure,” he snarled, and for once in his life, he attacked first. Malaki jumped back in surprise, narrowly avoiding Tristan’s feint to the right, and sparks flew as their daggers collided again and again. They moved in a large circle, with Malaki continuously dodging and moving backwards and Tristan continually pressing for what seemed like forever but was probably less than a minute. Finally, Malaki got in a shot and a well placed boot to the gut threw Tristan back far enough to give him a break.
“Give it up, man,” Malaki taunted Tristan as he recovered from the blow. “If I don’t kill her, the Ancient Ones will. What’s the point? Consider it a favor when I kill you, after what you’ve done. Nothing I can do will be as painful as what the Ancient Ones will do to you.”
Tristan shook his head, breathing hard, but keeping his eyes on Malaki. “And nothing they can do will be as painful as what I’ve already done to myself.” He glared into Malaki’s cocky eyes. “Dying isn’t as scary when you’ve got nothing to lose,” he growled as he lunged forward again.
Purchase The Hour of Tiamat at:
About the Author:
Lisa is a recent graduate from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. Her degree is in physics, but her long love of writing was re-kindled when she was honorably discharged from the military. She uses her experience in the military and the science community to write compelling science fiction and fantasy. She is the author of The Hour of Tiamat, which is an interesting blend of paranormal fiction and science fiction. She has also published a collection of horror poetry, Book of Dreams and Nightmares. Currently she lives in Kentucky where she is writing a young adult fantasy trilogy and works at the local library.

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Friday, May 18, 2012

Author Interview: Charles Landreth

“Sword Bearer” tells the story of Jonran who, under the burden of a highly technological world, finds an opportunity to escape through a magic portal. After passing through, he awakes to find himself on a more primitive planet and his body has been transformed into that of an ancient race of a long forgotten people.
Jonran is quickly captured and taken into slavery where he befriends a skilled yet questionable thief who helps him through the many trials of slavery. After their eventual escape, their paths split and Jonran stumbles alone into the protected elven lands where he falls in love with an elven woman, while his friend finds a future with a resistance force fighting a corrupt human government.
As they both seek an end to the violence, Jonran is led on a journey to a magic sword and on a quest to help a wizard to free his master, who is locked in battle with an evil invading army. That sword, combined with the crystals of the Elemental Lords, is the only hope to push back the enemy horde and save the world.
Will Jonran have what it takes?
Purchase Sword Bearer at:
Tell us a little about yourself:
I’m 41 years old and have been married for almost 21 years. Most of those have been happily. LOL Seriously, though, my marriage is one of the achievements I’m most proud of, as you just don’t see many making it that long these days. My family consists of my loving wife and five rescue animals that do a great job of tearing up just about everything of value that we have. I’ve been a software tester for the past 14 years and that is what I’m currently doing to pay the bills. Sword Bearer is my debut novel and I hope that someday I can stop testing software and write full time.
If you could change one thing in this world, what would it be?
If I could change anything in this world, it would be to make it where those in power were not corrupted by their positions. There are plenty of things that need changing, but if you’re limited to one you want to do something that will have a fundamental effect. My opinion is that this is a basic human flaw that gets in the way of some really great accomplishments time and again.
You find a magic lamp, give it a rub and a genie offers you three wishes. What are they?
My wife has dealt with chronic pain for many years, so my first wish would be to make her pain free. Wish number two, that all people would be a bit more tolerant of others. The last would be that the first two could not be twisted in some way that would be different from the intent of the wish. You have to watch out for tricksters. LOL
Why do you write?
There are several reasons I write. What really pushes me though is the impact reading has had on my life. Although I was a good kid most of my childhood, during my teens I did get into some things that could easily have led me down some dangerous paths. Although I had been playing Dungeons & Dragons for years, it was my senior year in high school when I read my first fantasy novel. After that I was hooked and spent more and more time reading, which kept me from going out and getting into trouble. I’m a different person today thanks to a good book.
What elements of your writing do you want to develop?
I would say character development. I feel that I can tell a good story, and my characters can hold your attention, but I want to make sure that the reader really feels for the characters and can see their personalities in their words and actions. As a reader, being able to feel that way is what draws me in and provides that escape from the day to day.
Will books disappear altogether in future?
At some point I could see print books giving way to digital, but the concept of books will always be there. The human race has told stories since we first developed a way to communicate. The format may change, but the stories will continue.
Does your mood affect your writing? If so, how?
Definitely. I have to be in a good peaceful mood most of the time. When I write I have to be able to visualize the story. I can’t describe it to you, if I can’t see it myself. I can’t write when I’m angry because it clouds my mind. I generally find that I can use those experiences to flesh out certain unsavoury characters to make them more villainous when needed.
Describe the process you took to write Sword Bearer.
It may sound simplistic, but the key for me was using an outline to structure the story. I found that without one the storyline wandered and every “good idea” that crossed my mind tried to get into the story. It also gave me something to work toward, before that I was just writing in the moment and had just a general idea of where I wanted to go with the story.
The general steps were:
  1. Determine general plot, characters & settings.
  2. Create a General Outline.
  3. Create a Detailed Outline (with supporting documents)
  4. Create 1st Draft.
  5. Edit/Re-Draft
  6. Format the Final Copy
What is the target audience for your book?
I was actually targeting the experienced fantasy reader. I didn’t spend a lot of time explaining what an elf was, or what a dwarf looked like. This let me concentrate on the storyline and the more unique aspects in my book. I depended on the reader to already have a concept in their minds of some of the more common races in fantasy novels. That being said, with more fantasy movies hitting the market even people that are new to the genre enter with much more knowledge than we did 30 years ago.
Quick fire:
  • Favorite Song?: “Amnesty is granted” by Sammy Hagar
  • Favorite Book?: The Dragonbone Chair by Tad Williams
  • Favorite quote?: “Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.” – Albert Einstein
Charles Landreth, a software tester living in Dallas, Texas, has been a fantasy buff from an early age. First experiencing fantasy from years of Dungeon & Dragons adventures, he expanded his story telling with influences from bestselling authors such as Tad Williams, Raymond E. Feist and many more. Being an avid reader, he draws on a diverse group of styles to create The Seeds of a Legend series.
GIVEAWAY
Leave a comment below for a chance to win one of five signed copies of Sword Bearer!
Deadline is 11:59 pm EST, May 24, 2012.
Winners will be announced on May 25 with instructions how the winners can claim their signed copy!

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