T.B. Schmid

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TB Schmid lives in upstate New York with his family and two Norwegian Elk Hounds. He and author R.Wade Hodges are currently collaborating on a gritty, epic fantasy series entitled "Fate's Crucible". Book 1 of the series, "Beyond the Burning Sea", was released on 9/20/16, and Book 2, "Between the Darkness and Dust" was released 2/28/18. "Feral" was his first published work.

Lions of the Empire is an electronic publisher dedicated to delivering quality fantasy fiction. Lions of the Empire brings a lifetime love of fantasy and science fiction to all of our ebook and print releases. We are crafting accessible and affordable works that would be the kind of thing we've enjoyed reading for years. Independent and proud of it, we like to think of our
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T.B. Schmid Middle Earth, where I'd retrace the journeys of both Bagginses.
T.B. Schmid My children, both of whom are such wonderful, amazing people, each a universe unto themselves: beautiful and complex galaxies spiraling at their core…moreMy children, both of whom are such wonderful, amazing people, each a universe unto themselves: beautiful and complex galaxies spiraling at their core surrounded by ever-expanding frontiers of endless possibility.(less)
Average rating: 4.59 · 22 ratings · 11 reviews · 3 distinct worksSimilar authors
Beyond the Burning Sea (Fat...

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4.67 avg rating — 9 ratings — published 2016 — 3 editions
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Feral

4.33 avg rating — 9 ratings — published 2014 — 3 editions
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Between the Darkness and Du...

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it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 4 ratings3 editions
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The Gathering Storm

"What in the sodding Dark happened back there on Aarden? What did you find?"

He stared at her hand for a long moment. His cheek muscle bunched rhythmically, a tell she had learned meant he was struggling over some internal debate. Sigel's Wives burned down from above; Sherp went on snoring away, and Scow appeared to be giving chase again. Mung, Voth and Rantham hadn't moved from where they lay i... Read more of this blog post »
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Published on April 19, 2018 06:40 Tags: epic-fantasy, fantasy, fate-s-crucible

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The Armored Saint by Myke Cole
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Original, gritty, and gripping. Can't wait to read the next one in this series.
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Original, gritty, and gripping. Can't wait to read the next one in this series.
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Between the Darkness and Dust by T.B. Schmid
"The second book REALLY gets the ball rolling, introducing us to the Oath guard and building on the blossoming and blistering romance between Triistan and Drey and filling in the fascinating details of the Khaliil's society. I really got a thrill o..." Read more of this review »
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Beyond the Burning Sea by T.B. Schmid
Feral by T.B. Schmid
"Feral is the first book of it's kind that I have ever read and I loved it! I thought this book was absolutley amazing. I could easily read it again. There were a couple times I was completly surprised by the turn of events. I love the way the char..." Read more of this review »
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More of T.B.'s books…
“What in the sodding Dark happened back there on Aarden? What did you find?"

He stared at her hand for a long moment. His cheek muscle bunched rhythmically, a tell she had learned meant he was struggling over some internal debate. Sigel's Wives burned down from above; Sherp went on snoring away, and Scow appeared to be giving chase again. Mung, Voth and Rantham hadn't moved from where they lay in some time, either, and Biiko was at his post. This was about as alone as they could ever hope to be.

She reached up with her other hand, feather-soft, touched his cheek, his chin. It was rough with stubble, the same fiery copper-and-chestnut as his hair. His jaw stopped twitching and he closed his eyes, but did not resist as she gently turned his head to face her. She could hear the subtle trembling in his breathing and leaned closer, licked her cracked lips.

"Triistan, please...tell me what terrible secret you are guarding..." she whispered, barely a breath really, but his eyes snapped open as if she'd struck him. He looked so sad.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Then he was standing, gently disengaging himself from her, and moving towards Biiko where he stood his watch on the other side of the launch. He paused a moment at the mainmast and she thought he might come back, but he only turned his head, speaking over his shoulder without looking at her. His voice was heavy with sorrow.

"Please don't take my journal again." Without bothering to wait for a response, he slipped around the mainmast and left her by herself.

Dreysha sat there brooding for a long time. She was angry with him for rejecting her, and with herself for mishandling both him and his Dark-damned journal. Most of all, though, she was angry with herself for what she had felt when he'd looked at her.

After awhile Scow snorted himself awake. He groaned and stretched, then grumbled a greeting at her, getting barely a grunt in reply for his trouble. The Mattock stood and stretched some more, his massive frame providing some welcome shade, and she sensed him watching her, could imagine him glancing across the deck at Triistan. He knew his men almost as well as his ship, which is why he stood there silently for awhile.

Thunder rumbled again, great boulders of sound rolling across the sea, and this time there could be no doubt it was closer. She rose and leaned over the rail. The southern horizon was lost in a dark shadow beneath towering columns of bruised, sullen clouds. She could smell the rain, though the air was as still as death. Beside her, Scow hawked and spat over the side.

"Storm's comin' ".

"Aye," she answered softly. "Been coming for some time now."

- from the upcoming "RUINE" series.”
T.B. Schmid

“From Bralloc’s mounted position he could see over the heads of most of his men, but the thickening darkness of evening coupled with the storm made it impossible to see more than a few yards. He jerked at the reins and swung his horse around, pushing into the crowd. The large grey charger was nearly as mean-spirited as her owner; she snorted and bucked her head, then nipped, stomped and shoved her way through, giving every indication that she was enjoying herself.

His men drew to either side, and the crawling excitement in Bralloc’s belly became an angry swarm of insects.
The scout – the ballsy woman whose name he could never remember - stood several paces away. Bralloc paid her no heed, however, and the mixture of nervousness, relief and fear on her face didn’t even register in his mind: his eyes were locked on the captive at her side. His lips twitched into a smile and he licked them, like a ghoul eyeing a fresh corpse. He forced himself to move slowly, deliberately – sucking each individual drop of marrow from the bones of his anticipation..."

-From 'Feral”
TB Schmid

“Before her, Triistan finished his eulogy and held out a small flask of seal-oil, slowly pouring the contents over the book and chest as he led the others in the Oath:

"To sail beyond the Wind, to find that which has been Lost, and drive back the Darkness with the torch of Discovery."

As he spoke, he used a taper to transfer a small flame from a watch lamp they had lit for this purpose to the chest with Braeghan's book inside, where it caught immediately. The Crone was nearly touching the far horizon now, and two-thirds of the sky had faded to a luminescent cobalt blue, as if the heavens themselves were aglow with Veheg's Fire. The sea stretched away in all directions, empty and ominous in its vastness and its secrets, deadly but beautiful, brushed by pink and gold to the west, and blending into dark infinity to the east. Several early stars had appeared in that direction, beckoning them homeward...

From the upcoming RUINE series.”
T.B. Schmid

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Indie Authors Mon...: Introduce Yourself 850 1174 Oct 12, 2018 01:26PM  
“From Bralloc’s mounted position he could see over the heads of most of his men, but the thickening darkness of evening coupled with the storm made it impossible to see more than a few yards. He jerked at the reins and swung his horse around, pushing into the crowd. The large grey charger was nearly as mean-spirited as her owner; she snorted and bucked her head, then nipped, stomped and shoved her way through, giving every indication that she was enjoying herself.

His men drew to either side, and the crawling excitement in Bralloc’s belly became an angry swarm of insects.
The scout – the ballsy woman whose name he could never remember - stood several paces away. Bralloc paid her no heed, however, and the mixture of nervousness, relief and fear on her face didn’t even register in his mind: his eyes were locked on the captive at her side. His lips twitched into a smile and he licked them, like a ghoul eyeing a fresh corpse. He forced himself to move slowly, deliberately – sucking each individual drop of marrow from the bones of his anticipation..."

-From 'Feral”
TB Schmid

“Wynter's Pass was a picturesque region in the north of Vohlfhein, where the Bleak Hills eventually collapsed into the Frozen Sea. From the back of Mr. Buckles, who had been on a slow trot since sunrise, Monch watched the light glisten off of the frozen branches of the evergreens. As the sun warmed the frozen ground, sending the evening's frost into retreat, Monch absorbed the splendor of it all and wondered how expensive the local real estate must be around here. He then contemplated attempting to find an agent that would represent his interests well.

"This land is such a spectacular wonder," the Lion of Ahriman declared. "It would be very much sought after if they could just do something about the bears, the White Orts, the wolves, the bloodthirsty cannibals, the snow manapés, the frost wizards, the northern bandit gangs, the dire lynxes, the similarly sounding but not related pygmy bloodthirsty cannibals, the demon possessed yaks, the dead-soul animated trees, the..." Monch paused for a moment.

"It just occurred to me that this land is really not safe at all. It seems almost everything in it wants to kill me," the Templar admitted.”
D.F. Monk, Tales of Yhore: The Chronicles of Monch

“What in the sodding Dark happened back there on Aarden? What did you find?"

He stared at her hand for a long moment. His cheek muscle bunched rhythmically, a tell she had learned meant he was struggling over some internal debate. Sigel's Wives burned down from above; Sherp went on snoring away, and Scow appeared to be giving chase again. Mung, Voth and Rantham hadn't moved from where they lay in some time, either, and Biiko was at his post. This was about as alone as they could ever hope to be.

She reached up with her other hand, feather-soft, touched his cheek, his chin. It was rough with stubble, the same fiery copper-and-chestnut as his hair. His jaw stopped twitching and he closed his eyes, but did not resist as she gently turned his head to face her. She could hear the subtle trembling in his breathing and leaned closer, licked her cracked lips.

"Triistan, please...tell me what terrible secret you are guarding..." she whispered, barely a breath really, but his eyes snapped open as if she'd struck him. He looked so sad.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Then he was standing, gently disengaging himself from her, and moving towards Biiko where he stood his watch on the other side of the launch. He paused a moment at the mainmast and she thought he might come back, but he only turned his head, speaking over his shoulder without looking at her. His voice was heavy with sorrow.

"Please don't take my journal again." Without bothering to wait for a response, he slipped around the mainmast and left her by herself.

Dreysha sat there brooding for a long time. She was angry with him for rejecting her, and with herself for mishandling both him and his Dark-damned journal. Most of all, though, she was angry with herself for what she had felt when he'd looked at her.

After awhile Scow snorted himself awake. He groaned and stretched, then grumbled a greeting at her, getting barely a grunt in reply for his trouble. The Mattock stood and stretched some more, his massive frame providing some welcome shade, and she sensed him watching her, could imagine him glancing across the deck at Triistan. He knew his men almost as well as his ship, which is why he stood there silently for awhile.

Thunder rumbled again, great boulders of sound rolling across the sea, and this time there could be no doubt it was closer. She rose and leaned over the rail. The southern horizon was lost in a dark shadow beneath towering columns of bruised, sullen clouds. She could smell the rain, though the air was as still as death. Beside her, Scow hawked and spat over the side.

"Storm's comin' ".

"Aye," she answered softly. "Been coming for some time now."

- from the upcoming "RUINE" series.”
T.B. Schmid

“Monch was on no simple retreat. The journey he had plotted for himself was much longer, and took him many buckets away from Appollon to Angarr's Sorrow, the land of fetid bogs in southeastern Sarthiss. This was a world far away from everything he knew... from everyone he knew. Granted, the list of people he knew was exceptionally short, especially since Monch was horrible with names and only slightly less horrible with faces. Regardless, he did not wish to accidentally advertise his inexperience to anyone he might possibly know, which is why he travelled so far afield.

There were ruins in the swamps, ruins hidden under years of neglect and heavy with decay. Things lurked in those ruins, inhuman beasts with forbidden hungers. He intended to use the dangers of the swamps as the whetstone that would hone his abilities to a razor-keen edge. Monch would test his blade against and come back all the stronger...

...or dead.

No... that wasn't right. Given the fact that he was immortal, death really wasn't an option. So then, he would come back stronger...

...or something something horrible. Monch decided to fill in those particular details later on, when he had time to ponder his autobiography at length. He would tidy up that particular idiom later.”
D.F. Monk, Tales of Yhore: The Chronicles of Monch

“Before her, Triistan finished his eulogy and held out a small flask of seal-oil, slowly pouring the contents over the book and chest as he led the others in the Oath:

"To sail beyond the Wind, to find that which has been Lost, and drive back the Darkness with the torch of Discovery."

As he spoke, he used a taper to transfer a small flame from a watch lamp they had lit for this purpose to the chest with Braeghan's book inside, where it caught immediately. The Crone was nearly touching the far horizon now, and two-thirds of the sky had faded to a luminescent cobalt blue, as if the heavens themselves were aglow with Veheg's Fire. The sea stretched away in all directions, empty and ominous in its vastness and its secrets, deadly but beautiful, brushed by pink and gold to the west, and blending into dark infinity to the east. Several early stars had appeared in that direction, beckoning them homeward...

From the upcoming RUINE series.”
T.B. Schmid

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