DISCIPLE continues...

Monday, September 15, 2014

ENCHANTED BOOKSTORE LEGENDS by Marsha A. Moore


Welcome to the Fall Into Fantasy Tour, where we are keeping your mind off any end-of-summer blues and welcoming the cooler weather by introducing you to some incredible fantasy reads to curl up with and giving you plenty of chances to win awesome prizes!

The Enchanted Bookstore Legends
Book One: Seeking a Scribe
Book Two: Heritage Avenged
Book Three: Lost Volumes
Book Four: Staurolite
Book Five: Quintessence
By Marsha A. Moore

Seeking a Scribe: Enchanted Bookstore Legend One by Marsha A. Moore

Lyra McCauley is a writer and loves fantasy novels, but until she opens a selection from bookstore owner Cullen Drake, she has no idea he’s a wizard character who lives a double life inside that volume…or the story’s magic will compel her from the edge of depression to adventure, danger, and love.

His gift to Lyra, the Book of Dragonspeir, was actually her copy, misplaced years ago. Lost in her pain following divorce and death, she fails to recognize him as her childhood playmate from the fantasyland. Friendship builds anew. Attraction sparks. But Lyra doubts whether a wizard is capable of love. She’s torn—should she protect her fragile heart or risk new love?

Opening the book’s cover, she confronts a quest: save Dragonspeir from destruction by the Black Dragon before he utilizes power of August’s red moon to expand his strength and overthrow the opposing Imperial Dragon. Lyra accepts the challenge, fearing Cullen will perish if evil wins. Along with magical animal guides, Cullen helps her through many perils, but ultimately Lyra must use her own power…and time is running out.



Series Description:

The Enchanted Bookstore Legends are about Lyra McCauley, a woman destined to become one of five strong women in her family who possess unique magical abilities and serve as Scribes in Dragonspeir. The Scribes span a long history, dating from 1200 to present day. Each Scribe is expected to journey through Dragonspeir, both the good and evil factions, then draft a written account. Each book contains magic with vast implications.

Lyra was first introduced to Dragonspeir as a young girl, when she met the high sorcerer, Cullen Drake, through a gift of one of those enchanted books. Using its magic, he escorted her into the parallel world of Dragonspeir. Years later, she lost that volume and forgot the world and Cullen. These legends begin where he finds her again—she is thirty-five, standing in his enchanted bookstore, and Dragonspeir needs her. 

When Lyra reopens that enchanted book, she confronts a series of quests where she is expected to save the good Alliance from destruction by the evil Black Dragon. While learning about her role, Lyra and Cullen fall in love. He is 220 years old and kept alive by Dragonspeir magic. Cullen will die if Dragonspeir is taken over by the evil faction…Lyra becomes the Scribe.

Purchase Links:

ABOUT MARSHA A. MOORE
Marsha A. Moore loves to write fantasy and fantasy romance. Much of her life feeds the creative flow she uses to weave highly imaginative tales. 

The magic of art and nature often spark life into her writing, as well as watercolor painting and drawing. She’s been a yoga enthusiast for over a decade and is a registered yoga teacher. After a move from Toledo to Tampa in 2008, she’s happily transformed into a Floridian, in love with the outdoors. Marsha is crazy about cycling. She lives with her husband on a large saltwater lagoon, where taking her kayak out for an hour or more is a real treat. She never has enough days spent at the beach, usually scribbling away at stories with toes wiggling in the sand. Every day at the beach is magical!


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Excerpt from Seeking a Scribe:

Chapter One: Licorice Memories
The smell of anise greeted Lyra as she opened the door to Drake’s bookstore. It took her back to happy childhood memories. Licorice-shoe-string-rewards for following her parents’ requests to stay on the dock while they secured the family’s pleasure boat to its trailer. The aroma brought a fleeting remembrance of times long gone, a treasure now that her folks had recently passed. At ease with the familiar scent, she settled into browsing through rows of antique bookcases.
The shop owner stuck his head around a set of shelves. “Do you like tea?”
“Yes, I do.” Before she could finish speaking, he disappeared. “Is that the wonderful smell?” she called out.
Kitchenware clinked in the back room. Receiving no answer, Lyra followed the noises, scanning collections as she walked. This bookshop appeared established, but surely she would have remembered it from her last visit to the Lake Huron village five years ago. Books were her passion, especially fantasy. She paused in front of that section and studied its titles.
The owner appeared, holding a pewter tray with a teapot, two cups, sugar jar, spoons, and napkins, which he laid on the corner of an old library table. She watched him carefully pour the tea and hand her a cup. He was about her age, mid thirties or a bit older, and handsome. His medium brown hair, peppered with gray at the temples, grazed his shoulders in wavy layers, and his beard was trimmed into a neat goatee. He wore long shorts, a knit golf shirt, and sandals—typical casual attire for this island resort community.
She set down her bag from the drugstore and accepted his offer with a smile. “Thanks. My name’s Lyra.” She blew across the hot surface of the tea to cool it and then inhaled the anise-scented steam. She closed her eyes to fully enjoy the memory. “Ah!”
“Afternoons of boating and licorice with your parents? Right?” he asked.
Her mouth dropped open. How did he know that?

Monday, September 8, 2014

THE UNDEAD: PLAYING FOR KEEPS by Elsie Elmore


Welcome to the Fall Into Fantasy Tour, where we are keeping your mind off any end-of-summer blues and welcoming the cooler weather by introducing you to some incredible fantasy reads to curl up with and giving you plenty of chances to win awesome prizes!

Week 3: The Undead: Playing for Keeps
By Elsie Elmore

When an undead woman with serious de-comp issues stalks sixteen-year-old Lyla Grimm, her hope of rescuing her rock-bottom reputation takes a back seat. Survival definitely trumps the in-crowd.

Her corpse-following scare reeks of a major prank and coincides with the arrival of Eric. He’s the hot new guitarist in her brother’s band. But Eric’s arrival isn’t by chance. He’s a Grim Reaper dispatched to find out why Death’s clients aren’t staying down.

As Eric realizes that Lyla can wake the dead, he jockeys for control of her gift. His uncanny way of appearing when she needs him most earns her reluctant admiration. But the closer he gets to Lyla, the less sure he is of his plan. The dead are easier to deal with than living emotions. 

Gossip explodes, the Grimm family implodes, and desperation sets in. Death wants the gift and a soul. Lyla and Eric face hard choices with hidden consequences. Sometimes life’s choices aren’t really choices at all.

Add it to Goodreads
Or buy your copy here: Amazon  Barnes & Noble

ABOUT ELSIE ELMORE:

Elsie Elmore lives in North Carolina with her husband and two kids.

With a science education degree, she never imagined she would someday write stories that challenge the laws of nature. She loves the color red, has an appreciation for chocolate and coffee that borders on obsession, and wishes fall temperatures would linger year round. 

Elsie is a member of several writing organizations: RWA, SCBWI, and WSW. The Undead : Playing for Keeps is her debut novel. Find her on the web: on twitter at @ElsieWriter, her blog at elsieelmore.com, or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/elsieelmorewriter.


Want to get involved with the Fall Into Fantasy promotional tour?
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Monday, September 1, 2014

HOW TO DATE DEAD GUYS by Ann M. Noser


Welcome to the Fall Into Fantasy Tour, where we are keeping your mind off any end-of-summer blues and welcoming the cooler weather by introducing you to some incredible fantasy reads to curl up with and giving you plenty of chances to win awesome prizes!

Week 2: How to Date Dead Guys 
Under the Blood Moon series
By Ann M. Noser
College sophomore Emma Roberts remembers her mother’s sage advice: “don’t sleep around, don’t burp in public, and don’t tell anyone you see ghosts”. But when charming Mike Carlson drowns in the campus river under her watch, Emma’s sheltered life shatters.

Blamed for Mike’s death and haunted by nightmares, Emma turns to witchcraft and a mysterious Book of Shadows to bring him back. Under a Blood Moon, she lights candles, draws a pentacle on the campus bridge, and casts a spell. The invoked river rages up against her, but she escapes its fury. As she stumbles back to the dorm, a stranger drags himself from the water and follows her home. And he isn't the only one. 

Instead of raising Mike, Emma assists the others she stole back from the dead—a pre-med student who jumped off the bridge, a desperate victim determined to solve his own murder, and a frat boy Emma can’t stand…at first. More comfortable with the dead than the living, Emma delves deeper into the seductive Book of Shadows. Her powers grow, but witchcraft may not be enough to protect her against the vengeful river and the killers that feed it their victims.

Inspired by the controversial Smiley Face Murders, HOW TO DATE DEAD GUYS will ignite the secret powers hidden deep within each of us.

Buy it from: Amazon US  Amazon UK  Barnes & Noble

Or add it to Goodreads

ABOUT ANN M. NOSER:

My to-do list dictates that I try to cram 48 hours of living into a day instead of the usual 24. I’ve chosen a life filled with animals. I train for marathons with my dog, then go to work as a small animal veterinarian, and finish the day by tripping over my pets as I attempt to convince my two unruly children that YES, it really IS time for bed. But I can’t wait until the house is quiet to write; I have to steal moments throughout the day. Ten minutes here, a half hour there, I live within my imagination.
Like all busy American mothers, I multi-task. I work out plot holes during runs. Instead of meditating, I type madly during yoga stretches. I find inspiration in everyday things: a beautiful smile, a heartbreaking song, or a newspaper article on a political theory. For example, a long drive in the dark listening to an NPR program on the SMILEY FACE MURDERS theory made me ask so many questions that I wrote HOW TO DATE DEAD GUYS to answer them to my satisfaction. 

I’d love to have more time to write (and run, read, and sleep), but until I find Hermione Granger’s time turner, I will juggle real life with the half-written stories in my head. Main characters and plot lines intertwine in my cranium, and I need to let my writing weave the tales on paper so I can find out what happens next.

Find Ann Online: 
Blog   Facebook page  Twitter  Goodreads

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Friday, August 29, 2014

DISCIPLE, PART V on sale now!

On sale now at:




includes paperback edition

Back cover
Kate faces winter with a broken heart: betrayed by one lover, the other lost to her.

Kiefan will not give up on the alliance his kingdom desperately needs — even though the Caer queen refuses to speak to him. 

Anders, alone and despairing, faces the Empress’s seductive offers of power and privilege. 

Each of them must carry the ongoing war in their own way, whether cold, alone, or backed into a corner. Each must patch together a broken heart as best they can. Duty will throw them together soon enough and they must be ready. 

Excerpt
The wind was a knife; Kiefan turned his cheek to it before it could tug off his fur-lined hood. Still, it sliced at his nose and mouth, pulling the cloud of his breath into a streamer. He took a lungful of the wind. Damp enough for snow. 

When it ebbed, he turned back to the view down onto Knapptal’s main street. The gatehouse tower was his alone, as none of the guard wished to brave the wind. From here, he could see along the lake shore, northwards, to the village where Leix Gwatcyn’s knights and archers camped. 

As Tannait had said, they brought their commander to the pyre at dawn, singing their dirge. 

It came faint, at first, with the wind. A shiver gripped him a moment — it was something like the lamia’s song. Long, high notes. These wanted to be screams, though, they wove along a raw edge and then fell into harsh melodies. 

Their procession joined the main road half a mile off, led by the Gwatcyn standard of mountains and moons. They came in their mail and swords, in perfect formation, marching as they sang. Six carried the pall. Gwatcyn’s red cloak, wrapped around her, flapped in a tail when the wind picked up again. 

Kiefan covered his eyes with one gloved hand. Drew a hard breath, though it shook. Dead, now, his only friends in Caercoed. Leix had always been ready with a solid strategy, always ready to argue with Seagrace but never made a fight of it. Her defensive, sword-tangling kir-spikes had taken him unawares in their first sparring, and he’d been trying to work them into his practice since. Not that there’d been much time for that. 

And Síochana… her lessons…

Below him, closer voices joined in the dirge when the melody began anew. Kiefan put his back to the merlon and slid down to sit on the cold stone. Pressed his hand to his eyes, to crush the tears out all the quicker. His chest trembled, on the edge of pain in fighting the surge of memories. 

Sío’s blood on his cote, her mouth hanging slack as her head lolled. Dead, all of them, lying in blood in the hall. And Kate, running to — him, that fucking bastard who haunted Kiefan’s every day, she ran to his fucking arms and — 

Kiefan slammed his fist into the stone, and pain in his knuckles split through the rage. He was here, alone, in the cold. Not there, afire with hate, running through the bastard — the man — Kate loved — 

He’d never so wanted to doubt his anticipation Blessing. Only a fool would.  

Kiefan wiped at his nose and drew a hard breath through it. Held it, exhaled. The tears kept coming, despite that. Too strong to deny. Sío, dead. Kate, worse, alive and so furious she’d refused to look at him during the funeral. 

She hated him. He fought the sob that tried to claw its way up his throat. 

He dropped his head against the stone and breathed, let the fist around his heart loosen. His tears slid out and the silent sobs wracked him as the dirge grew louder. A week’s stoic silence, he’d held. A week’s festering, and now the abscess drained. Left him empty, resigned. 

The voices reached the Spanne, below. Sío lay on the bier already, wrapped in her blue-white lieutenant’s cloak. Still wearing the ring he’d given her, the silver band set with a green tourmaline. Something from the jewel cache, something he’d seen as a boy while his father told him the family stories. 

His mother had wanted it back. But it was Sío’s, freely given, and he’d seen that she kept it. 

When his breath came even and quiet, he stood, lifted the trap door and descended. The pyre stood in the center of the Spanne, a long bier of firewood that the two bodies lay upon, head to head. Bright red and pale blue. Gregor followed, a few steps behind, as Kiefan walked toward them. So did Captain Aleks; they’d waited for him at the gate. Kiefan’s hand settled on his sword. 

The Crown’s Blades made a ring around the mourners, facing outward with their hands on their swords as well, ignoring the cold wind rippling their blue cloaks. Inside, Gwatcyn’s soldiers stood at attention with the duchesses, Sío’s business partners, and the Blade officers. And, in white and green, Ciara. 

She held a torch, guttering in the breeze. The sun was only just up and warming the clouds that skittered overhead. It would take most of the short winter day to burn the dead. 

“Caercoed!” 

Ciara turned, raising the torch higher. Elect Teleri folded her arms, beside the Crown.

“We would honor the dead with you,” he said.

Just to touch Sío’s hand once more, even cold and stiff. Say one last goodbye to her, and to Leix one last thank-you.

“’Twas many a chance after you failed them. What more have you to say?” Ciara asked.

“That I will avenge them.” He stopped at the ring of Blades, in a gap between two — whose hands gripped their sheaths tight, kir at ready for a quick-draw. His anticipation Blessing piqued, telling him to stab left first, then cut back at speed to block on the right. 

Ciara’s voice went flat. “With such prowess as Wodenberg brings, ’twill indeed. Your castle lies gutted by one squad of Arceal?”

Aleks muttered under her breath. 

“We would avenge the Crown as well,” Kiefan said as Ciara lowered the torch toward the kindling. “The Empress stole from us both.” 

She paused. “’Twas my sister. See to your own.” Then, touched the oil-soaked rags and sticks. Fire crackled up, spreading fast where lamp oil had been splashed in a ring around the stacked wood. 

Kiefan raised his voice, over the flames. “We must seal the alliance, Crown. There are still —” 

“No.” She didn’t shout, but the word was clear. Ciara stalked to the ring, snow clotting around the hem of her white gown. Torch held to the side, at something like a low rear guard. “Nothing. Wodenberg has nothing Caercoed wishes. ’Tis clear enough?” 

Look for Disciple, Part VI in early 2015
and a Kickstarter/Indiegogo campaign 
later this year -- 
I want to end this series with a bang!

Monday, August 25, 2014

THE DARKENSS & LIGHT SERIES by K.L. Schwengel


Welcome to the Fall Into Fantasy Tour, where we are keeping your mind off any end-of-summer blues and welcoming the cooler weather by introducing you to some incredible fantasy reads to curl up with and giving you plenty of chances to win awesome prizes!

Week 1: The Darkness & Light Series
Book One: First of Her Kind
Book Two: Emergence
Book Three: Edge of Darkness (Release date 2015)


It seems everyone wants to dictate what Ciara does with her life: Serve the Goddess, destroy the Goddess, do as you promised your aunt -- all Ciara really wants is to keep the two magics she possesses from ripping her apart.

And that's not going to be easy.

Not only is her earth magic in complete opposition to her other power, blood ties pull her in divergent directions as well. And then there's Bolin, the man sworn to protect her. There's no denying the growing attraction between them, but is it Ciara he wants, or her power?

None of which will matter if Ciara can't overcome her fear and learn how to use her gifts. No one knows the depths of the ancient power she possesses, or what will happen if it manages to escape her control. Will she lose herself entirely? Or be forever caught between Darkness and Light?

Buy the e-book: Kindle Nook
Or the paperback: Amazon  Barnes & Noble


The battle for Ciara's power has drawn the full attention of the Emperor and the Imperial Mages, forcing Bolin to put duty above safety and take her to Nisair. It won't be an easy trip, even with an Imperial escort and a Galysian elder accompanying them. Especially since Donovan has found himself some new allies, one of who wields a dark magic that has literally gotten under Bolin's skin.

For Ciara, coming to terms with the increasingly tangible manifestation of her power could destroy her. Even if they make it to Nisair--something that grows more unlikely by the day--there is no surety of safety for Ciara, or any of them. Not with Donovan willing to gamble everything to achieve his goals, or Bolin's uncharacteristically reckless behavior, the result of which is the attention of something that has everyone worried.

Loyalties will be tested, lives will be lost, and no one will emerge unchanged as they find things are not always so clear on the line dividing Darkness and Light.

Buy the e-book: Kindle  Nook
Or the paperback: Amazon  Barnes & Noble



ABOUT K.L. SCHWENGEL

K. L. Schwengel lives in southeast Wisconsin on a small farm with her husband, a handful of Australian Shepherds, Her Royal Highness Princess Fiona the Cat, and assorted livestock. Growing up as the youngest of nine children, and the daughter of a librarian, Kathi spent many hours between stacks of books, and secluded away in dusty archives, drawn to tales of medieval heroes and conquering knights. With so many characters and ideas spinning in her head, she had to get them onto paper or risk what little sanity she possessed. She has been penning wild tales of magic and mayhem as long as she can remember, but opted to follow her artistic muse first. After earning a Bachelor of Fine Arts and spending many years working as a freelance artist, grocery clerk, art teacher, graphic designer, stable hand, advertising account coordinator, dog trainer, and process technician (among other things) she answered the call of her writing muse. When not writing, Kathi trains and trials working Australian Shepherds, still paints, dabbles in photography, graphic design, and anything else creative her assorted muses send her way.

Connect online at…

Blog  Facebook  Pinterest  Twitter  Amazon Page  Goodreads


Want to get involved with the Fall Into Fantasy promotional tour?
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Thursday, July 24, 2014

Announcing DISCIPLE, PART V!

Disciple, Part V
on sale
August 29th, 2014

Kate faces winter with a broken heart: betrayed by one lover, the other lost to her.

Kiefan will not give up on the alliance his kingdom desperately needs — even though the Caer queen refuses to speak to him. 

Anders, alone and despairing, faces the Empress’s seductive offers of power and privilege. 

Each of them must carry the ongoing war in their own way, whether cold, alone, or backed into a corner. Each must patch together a broken heart as best they can. Duty will throw them together soon enough and they must be ready.

Disciple is a six-part gritty fantasy romance
Look for the last volume in early 2015!

Stay tuned for the cover reveal!

Catch up with the series...
Download Part I FREE!



Or download the first three parts in one tidy Half-Omnibus:


More retailers here

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Saturday, June 28, 2014

JUDGEMENT'S TALE I by William L. Hahn

An Interview with Cedrith Fellareon
I’m pleased to present a brief interview with (but not really about) the character of Cedrith in the upcoming Tale of Hope Games of Chance. Cedrith Fellareon is an Elf and a member of the Sages Guild, visiting Conar, the capital of Hope, from his homeland Mendel. A polite and respected guildsman, Cedrith’s life has been turned around by his acquaintance with Solemn Judgement, the main character of the story. Judgement’s Tale Part One, Games of Chance will be available July 4th.


 “Say there, Sage Fellareon! Could I have a word?”

“Chief Archivist, for you always, how may I be of service?”

“Well, Sage Fellareon, it’s about this request on my desk, for a restricted tome. Seems to be from a student of yours?”

“Indeed? Is it recent?”

“Well no, there’s the thing- I, ahm, I did not get to it, had it a couple weeks.”

“You’ve been very busy, no doubt sir, I under-”

“And you yourself, I just realized, checked out the same book two days ago.”

“Indeed yes, I took the liberty, that is, I did not realize he ha-”

“So I thought most likely the matter was resolved.”

“Ah yes, so it has been, thanks for your concern.”

“Ehm.”

“Chief Archivist?”

“What about- well this student of yours, Sage Fellareon? Is it usual, I mean, do you normally take pupils older than yourself?”

“Older!”

“That is, I mean no insult to your age- that is, I’m sure I have no idea how old- oh, dear, I’ve given offence.”

“Not in the least, I assure you, sir. There is-”

“I am so unused to dealing with elves, you see, you are indeed the only visitor from Mendel’s kingdom I’ve ever encountered.”

“Please, do not trouble yourself, sir. There is-”

“It’s simply that this old man- is he indeed a human? Or perhaps another one of your race?”

“Do you speak of Solemn Judgement, sir?”

“The grey-haired one whose name is on this request. Your pupil, am I right Sage?”

“My dear Chief Archivist, I’m afraid you must prepare yourself for a shock. Solemn Judgement, my pupil as you call him, is perhaps fifteen years old.”

“Why nonsense, sir! Do you mean- ah, of course! So this Judgement youth is a nobleman, then? His servant spoke very well for a menial.”

“No- with respect, Chief Archivist, he only appears aged at first glance. And his manner-”

“Please, be serious! A youth? There’s not a hair on his head any color but slate. And such reserve, he spoke like someone from court.”

“He may have been, sir, for all I can tell. Judgement has ever been the very soul of comportment and civility, quite remarkable in someone so young. I can well unders-”

“What house is he from, then? One of the southern baronies? Or perhaps from Shilar?”

“Neither sir. He is in fact an alien among us. And an orphan. Perhaps you recall, that unfortunate incident last month, on the day of my thesis presentation?”

“What do y- by the Hopelord, do you mean- this was the fellow wh-who was… :: whispering :: arrested?”

“The very same, sir, on his first day in the city, though I must sa-”

“Oh that horrid hour! I can hardly breathe.”

“Let us sit, sir, perhaps some tea. Here, right here we are.”

“The very thing, thank you, Sage. I admit, since that day I had banished the dreadful thought- to think, the Law of Conar nearly broken! After four thousand years… and you tell me now, the criminal was this boy?”

“As to that-”

“I had heard tell it was some rough sailor, or a powerful mage!”

“Yes, the staff, and his high boots-”

“But everyone spoke of the villain as a man, sir, I mean an adult, Sage Fellareon.”

“Chief Archivist, if you will kindly recall, Solemn Judgement was found innocent of this, ah, misunderstanding. The Law remains unbroken.”

“Well, of course as it should be. But now I think on this Judgement fellow, I find more reasons to be unsure of him, Sage Fellareon. Do you think it quite politic to keep him here, and moreover looking into forbidden works?”

“Restricted, Chief Archivist, I must insist, not forbidden.”

“Let us not split hairs, Sage Fellareon. Just look at this list of sign-outs! I took the liberty, when I realized what book he was asking for. Despairing culture, reports of miracles from the past three centuries, burial customs- why, there are even tomes in the Ancient tongue here, yet you insist this is just a youth.”

“It does seem strange, I know, but his curiosity is very, eh, very widespread. I know of no subject he is not interested in.”

“But, books in Ancient? For what purpose?”

“Why to read, Chief Archivist. You seem disinclined to believe me? May I ask if you have much fluency, sir- I myself can hardly-”

“As to that, I can read well enough, yes- at my age, and after years of study.”

“Young Judgement reads and speaks with fluency.”

“Ridiculous! Speaks! Why even the preachers must stay within strict bounds with the Ancient tongue of our heroic ancestors.”

“You need not question my account, Chief Archivist. Ask his tutor- the Healers Guildmistress Natashi Ioki.”

“Healer Ioki! A scholar indeed, of the first rank. I suppose, heh, we could trust her word on the matter.”

“Or his.”

“What?”

“It is not possible to lie in the Ancient tongue- but Judgement speaks no falsehood, whatever the language or subject. Neither will he lose his temper, no matter how poorly he is received-”

“What! Say, are you-”

“He never fails to complete any research assigned, shirks no chore however tedious or long, nor will he drink wine or ale, hardly sleeps and never stops working to learn.”

“Only all that! You seem to think very highly of him. I suppose you can be forgiven for interrupting, in light of your approbation. Perhaps you will tell me next that he can fly.”

“No, sir.”

“Praise the Hopelord.”

“But he can swim.”

“Oh now, this is your Elvish humor no doubt. Who taught him to swim, pray tell me that.”

“This is the very point, sir. Who indeed? But the young man claims it is common where he came from. And I witnessed his skill with my own eyes.”

“You leave me without words, Sage Fellareon. What are we to do with this prodigy?”

“Do, sir? We are a Guild of Sages- I had not thought it unusual that I should endeavor to teach him.”

“Well of course, sir, of course! But I mean, after that- once this unusual fellow has learned, what then shall become of him, and what does he intend, answer me that.”

“Such mysteries are far beyond my poor abilities, Chief Archivist.”

“I should think, sir, with all respect to your position as guest here, that some thought might be taken. The subjects this, this alien is studying, I would say require caution.”

“As you please, sir. I’m here for a session with the youth now- you may interrogate him if you wish.”

“Me!”

“Certainly, Chief Archivist- satisfy your concerns, I assure you Solemn Judgement will answer every question put to him.”

“Why as to that- I cannot- that is, I prefer- ach! He is coming, those boots, I hear him from a furlong, his pace like some moving clock, or a horrid Makine.”

“Chief Archivist!”

“And always wearing that broad, flat-brimmed hat, with eyes that stare, and never blink- see, there he is coming now as you said. No, I leave him to your care, Sage Fellareon, absolutely.”

“You are quite certain, Chief Archivist?”

“No doubt, sir, I’m sure you may be trusted completely with his care. It occurs to me that I have, I must, some appointments. I cannot- those eyes! That is, I leave him to you.”

“Thank you sir.”

“You need not thank me- may the Heroes watch over you, I pray! Good day, sir.”

Games of Chance
For twenty centuries the Lands of Hope prospered from their Heroes’ peace, but suffer now from their absence as a curse thickens over the central kingdom known as the Percentalion. An immortal omniscient conspirator schemes to escape the extra-worldly prison restraining his tide of undeath, using a demonic ally in a plot to bring back hell on earth. Solemn Judgement steps onto these Lands both a stranger and an orphan, driven to complete the lore his father died to give him.

In a world beset with increasing chaos, the bravest Children of Hope must take mortal risks. A young woodsman’s spear-cast, a desperate bid to save his comrades; the Healers Guildmistress’ cheery smile, hiding a grim secret and a heavy burden of guilt; the prince of Shilar’s speech in a foreign tongue, a gambit to avoid bloodshed or even war. As a new generation of heroes, scattered across the kingdoms, bets their lives and more, Solemn Judgement- soon to be known as The Man in Grey- must learn to play… Games of Chance: Part One of Judgement’s Tale

Wm. L. Hahn Bio
Will Hahn has been in love with heroic tales since age four, when his father read him the Lays of Ancient Rome and the Tales of King Arthur. He taught Ancient-Medieval History for years, but the line between this world and others has always been thin; the far reaches of fantasy, like the distant past, still bring him face to face with people like us, who have choices to make.

Will didn't always make the right choices when he was young. Any stick or vaguely-sticklike object became a sword in his hands, to the great dismay of his five sisters. Everyone survived, in part by virtue of a rule forbidding him from handling umbrellas, ski poles, curtain rods and more.

Will has written about the Lands of Hope since his college days (which by now are also part of ancient history). With the publication of Judgement’s Tale Part One, Games of Chance, he begins at last to tell the tale of the Land’s most unique hero, The Man in Grey.

CONTACT LINKS
Will Hahn is the chronicler of the Lands of Hope tales.






Will's Blog Thoughts- Including tales of a happy childhood (which continues), hopes for a writer's journey, and analysis of Classics You've Never Read

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