S.D. Reeves's Blog, page 4

Review Request: Arianna and the Spirit of the Storm

Arianna is affected with the power of lightning since birth. Combine this with an ongoing draught that’s been going on since her first diaper change, and, well, she is an outcast. Together with her best friend the girl must travel the world searching for relics to break this curse and save her people. So, no pressure.

I always make a big deal about character interaction. To this date think I’ve ranted ad nauseum about having a believable, grounded cast with real dialog in many, if not most of my reviews. But why is that? Is it because I tend to be a picky jerk? Yes, but also it is one of those things that can be an enhancer -or a crowbar to the kneecap – for a novel. Chances are if the dialogue doesn’t work, and the cast doesn’t act like real people might, then the plot, setting, and rest of the literary foundations will crumble.

Or, in some cases, great characters can shore up a shoddy porch. Arianna and the Spirit of the Storm, however, is the literary equivalent of a hobbyist trying to do a job they should have hired a professional for. Sure, there are some triumphs, and it might keep the rain out, but odds are a good kick will bring the whole thing down. In this case, banal interactions, lightning fast (no pun intended) romances, and shoddy dialogue serve as one heck of a test.

Worldbuilding, though, is a strength of authors Ballew and Landry. The scenes are often vivid and quite easy to picture. This book also effectively explores many different tones, from the lighthearted, and even into some scenarios that border on horrific. So, just because this is set in the Young Adult, don’t expect to be coddled or spared from more mature themes. Lastly, the plot and pacing are effective, if not good.

Arianna and the Spirit of the Storm is a well plotted novel, which could use a little more elbow grease on the character creation side. Despite this I found the read enjoyable, even if it missed the high mark. I am sure many will look past this, and if they do, they won’t regret it.

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Review Request: Forget Russia by L. Bordetsky-Williams

Russia, we meet again. So far, you’ve seduced me with a detective series, wowed me with a mythic fantasy retelling. So, what do you have for me today? A historical fiction, by author L. Bordetsky-Williams? Sure, why not.

Strange eBook formatting aside, the story pulls you right into the heart of Russia. The narrative see-saws between a Jewish Russian woman named Sarah from the 1920’s, and Anna (her 1980’s American descendant) as the latter is attempting to piece together what happened to the family in the old country. Cut in the memoir style, the novel attempts to set the two different Soviet periods against one another, as the protagonists learn, love, and suffer through their varying circumstances.

The narrative is effective. There is a subtle undercurrent at play between the two time periods that helps bind the story. Further, her characters, dialogue and descriptions help paint the scene well, lending to a strong grounded envisioning. For instance, in the chapter delving into 1915-1921. You get a clear picture of the meandering town of Gornostaypol. You can almost smell the bakers produce, junk sellers. And the shacks occupied by the Jewish folk, with their red and blue painted rowboats.

Honestly, I found little to quibble about this novel outside of some formatting here and there. In sum this a moving piece, but not an easy read – this would not be the type of book to digest with several others, it requires your complete focus. This is not a book one can easily put down. Or forget.

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Book Spotlight: The Sentinel Series

Hey folks,

Bringing you today a special treat, a look at the Sentinal Series by Helen Garraway! Funny thing is this came across to me, in the middle of reading the first book. Strange coincidences eh? So far I am enjoying the read, here. Perhaps you might want to join me? Anyways, here is more about the author and the series. Thanks to Silver Dagger tours for providing this look!

Sentinals Recovery

Sentinals Series Book 3.5

by Helen Garraway

Genre: Epic Fantasy Adventure

Sentinals Recovery is a novella set in the world of Remargaren. It occurs immediately after the battle at Oprimere. Although this is a complete story, the reader would benefit from reading the first three books in the series.

Birlerion is recovering from the near fatal injuries he received in his second, epic battle with the Ascendants. He returns home to Greenswatch, the Watch that adopted him, to recuperate and finally meet his Darian stallion, Kin’arol, who has been waiting, somewhat impatiently, to bond with him.

Only Kin’arol is not there. Someone has stolen him. For such a distinctive horse, he has vanished into thin air.
Though not fully recovered, and still hampered by his injuries, Birlerion sets off, accompanied by his brother Versillion, to recover his horse. Not even Assassins, belligerent Terolians or the harsh Terolian desert will stop him from bonding with Kin’arol, though his failing body might.

Click the read now button and start reading Sentinals Recovery now.

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Sentinals Justice

Sentinals Series Book 3

Sentinals Justice is the third book in the saga of Remargaren, a vibrant, ancient world of high fantasy suffused with magic and adventure.

The third installment of the Sentinal series takes us to the frozen north, to the Grand Duchy of Elothia. Border tensions with Elothia force King Benedict to send a diplomatic envoy to sue for peace. Benedict has his hands full with Vespiri and Terolia, he can’t afford a war on his northern border as well. Commander Jerrol Haven is sent to broker peace. Having met Grand Duke Randolf the thirteenth before, Jerrol hopes their previously successful negotiations will assist in a speedy resolution and allow him time to discover how to rescue Birlerion from the Ascendants.

Meanwhile, the Chapterhouse has received a request for a scholar to assist in searching for signs of the Sentinals in Elothia. Taelia is assigned the task, because Scholar Torsion is also missing after the attack at the Watch Towers.

Amidst escalating tensions and conflicting needs, Jerrol journeys to Elothia, hoping to meet with Randolf before the Ascendants can influence him. Escorting Taelia is an unexpected bonus. Can Jerrol stop Elothia and Vespiri from going to war? Will they find more Sentinals? And can they find out where the Ascendants took Birlerion and Torsion before it is too late.

Sentinals Justice concludes the opening trilogy…though the adventure will continue!

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Sentinals Rising

Sentinals Series Book 2

Sentinals Rising is the second book in the saga of Remargaren, a vibrant, ancient world of high fantasy suffused with magic and adventure. Jerrol Haven, having rescued the king from the clutches of the malevolent Ascendants, knows they haven’t stopped their scheming. While trying to learn more about the mysterious Sentinals he woke from a three-thousand-year sleep, he has to defend his king and country from further magical attacks. Should he trust the Sentinals in such vital positions? Can he trust them to protect the king and Vespiri? As Jerrol learns more of their capabilities, he realises there are more secrets yet to be revealed. Maybe those questioning their sudden rise in power have a point. Before he can delve further, a call for help comes from the neighbouring country of Terolia. The nomadic Families are disintegrating into chaotic infighting. The king sends Jerrol to investigate, instructing him to do whatever is needed to protect the Families from the Ascendants.

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Sentinals Awaken

Sentinals Series Book 1

Sentinals Awaken is the first book in the saga of Remargaren, a vibrant, ancient world of high fantasy suffused with magic and adventure.

As a three thousand-year-old threat reemerges, only one man has the power to awaken the world’s greatest protectors and restore order to the realm. He just doesn’t know it yet. When Jerrol Haven, a captain in the King’s Rangers, discovers treason at the highest level, he knows immediately that the knowledge puts his life at risk. And indeed, though he expected the ailing King to shield him, the ambitious Crown Prince sentences Jerrol to death.

What hold does the Prince have over his weakened father, and who or what is he protecting?

Now, with signs that her veil is weakening and the Ascendants are creeping back into power, she has returned and is in dire need of Jerrol’s help. For though he doesn’t know it, Jerrol possesses a rare gift: By chance, he touches a revered Sentinal tree and awakens Birlerion, one of the Lady’s personal guard who have been sleeping in the strange, tall trees since they were last called to battle. Aided by Birlerion, Jerrol flees and begins his journey to help Lady Leyandrii save Remargaren once more.

But time is running out: As it was with the King, the old guard Lords are everywhere being usurped, attacked, and assassinated. Jerrol must unravel the mystery of the Ascendants’ return, stop the sinister force that is dividing good families through bloodshed and betrayal, and rescue the King—and his troubles are only just beginning.

Ideal for lovers of The Witcher, Tad William’s Shadowmarch or the Belgarion series.

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Helen Garraway lives in the leafy royal borough of Berkshire in the UK and has been writing about the world of Remargaren, a fantasy world of her creation, since 2016.

An avid reader of many different fiction genres, a love she inherited from her mother, Helen writes high fantasy stories where she creates her own worlds and populates it with amazing characters and adventures. When she has time, she also enjoys paper crafting and scrapbooking as an escape from the pressure of working as a Product Manager.

Having graduated from the University of Southampton with a Degree in Politics and International Relations, she remains an active member of their alumni.

Having ventured into the world of self-publishing, Helen has now published three books with a fourth scheduled to release in December 2021.

Sentinals Awaken, released October 2020, was Helen’s debut novel, which was followed by Sentinals Rising in March 2021 and Sentinals Justice in released September 2021.

Sign up to Helen’s Author newsletter and download a free novella set in the World of Remargaren, Sentinals Stirring, set about seven years prior to Sentinals Awakens. Sign up via www.helengarraway.com

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The post Book Spotlight: The Sentinel Series first appeared on S.D. Reeves Books.

New Book Trailer

Phew! That was a lot of work, but also a lot of fun. Check out the new Book Trailer for the Evercharm Series here

Stay tuned for more videos, more readings, and, well, just more!

The post New Book Trailer first appeared on S.D. Reeves Books.

Book Spotlight: A Tangle of Choices

I am always happy to hear from other authors, whether indie or traditional. There is such a vibrant community out there, that is always growing, and very supportive. In that vein, today we have a bit of a special treat, a spotlight on the indie fantasy drama “A tangle of Choices.”

Check it out, and as always, thanks for stopping by!

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Tangle of Choices

Neglected Merge Book 2

by Eve Koguce

Genre: Fantasy Drama

“Tangle ofChoices” is a futuristic fantasy drama novel.

The twodifferent worlds have made the first diplomatic steps towards each other, but at the same time they keepaloof from closer emotional and personal involvement.

Tauria is the only person who is a part of both worlds now.

Harsh circumstances force Tauria to face difficult choices. They lead to personal drama whichmercilessly pierces right through her established life. Tauria, guided by a sense of duty to people whosefate depends on her decision, risks her love and family life. Her husband Doron, despite being a personendowed with power as the future Ruler, cannot help his wife and share her burden.

Tauria, in pursuit of a noble purpose to keep their serene life style intact, hurtsthose who are important to her, testing her friendships, marriage and own sanity to the very core.

Will her choice turn out to be the right one? Will the fact that thesacrifice is justified be sufficient consolation when the whole extent of damage becomes evident?

As part of her crusade against hostility aimed to destroy the carefreelifestyle of both worlds, Tauria is forced to cooperate with an aggressor. Tauria faces the unknown, andthe discoveries she makes change her view of the world.

“Tangle of Choices” is the second book in Neglected Merge series,but it can be read as a standalone novel.

**Only .99 cents Nov 9th-16th onAmazon.com!!**

**Only .99 cents Nov 10th-17thon Amazon.co.uk!!**

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Neglected Merge

Neglected Merge Book 1

**Silvermedal in the 2021 Global Book Awards in the Science Fiction / Fantasy category;

** Finalist award inthe 2021 Readers’ Favorite International Book Award Contest in the Fantasy General category.

Award-winning novel “Neglected Merge” is aninspirational and thought-provoking futuristic fantasy romance.

The story of fated lovers developed against a backdrop of a new post-apocalyptic world painted inbright tones. A fortuitous meeting of Tauria, an independent woman living in one utopian-style world,and Doron from high society of the other world, is destined to be the new beginning for both worlds.

Tauria, aged 32, lives in the society that seems to believethat happiness is a universal concept. People, who had survived the near apocalyptic experience, havebuilt a whole new world full of pleasure and easiness. It is designed to make everyone feel happy everyminute of their lives. Work brings satisfaction, hobbies are encouraged, relationships are supposed tobring out only positive emotions. Does it matter that things that don’t fit into the general happy pattern getdiscarded and disappear? Things like friendship and commitment. Things like true love. It is supposed tobe enough with lightness and never-ending joy.

But there aretwo worlds now. They are forced to exist side by side. Can they find a way to live together? The Chineseproverb says: “When the winds of change blow, some people build walls and others build windmills.”What will the people of two worlds, so utterly different and at the same time so similar, choose?

“Neglected Merge” won a silvermedal in the 2021 Global Book Awards in the Science Fiction / Fantasy category. It also received afinalist award in the 2021 Readers’ Favorite International Book Award Contest in the Fantasy Generalcategory.

**Only .99 cents Nov 6th-12th!!**

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Eve Koguce has been in love with books for aslong as she remembers herself. The typewriter her first attempts at writing had been made at still sitsproudly on its shelf in the basement. After fifteen years spent trying to fit into the office work pattern, EveKoguce had decided to pursue her dreams and turned to writing.

Eve Koguce lives on the coast of the Baltic Sea with her husband, her son, and their exceedinglycharming ginger cat. She loves nature, history, and literature. Her hobby – and a childhood dream thatcame true – is horse riding.

Eve’s debut novel “Neglected Merge” – bookone in the Neglected Merge trilogy – has won a silver medal in the 2021 Global Book Awards in theScience Fiction / Fantasy category. It also won a finalist award in the 2021 Readers’ FavoriteInternational Book Award Contest in the Fantasy General category.

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Interesting things are afoot!

Just a teaser of things to come, like readings, trailers, and all sorts of silly videos!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQowMiEzEwM

The post Interesting things are afoot! first appeared on S.D. Reeves Books.

Tense encounters

Have you ever mused about the writing tense  – past, present, or all of the little variations –  when reading a book?

Authors often talk about finding our “voice.” Usually, this is all tied up in the nebulous mishmash that is writing style, what can again be further dissected into conversations about sentence structure, rhythm, pacing, etc. Tense also plays a part, however. Take for instance, passive voice.  It just doesn’t work that well in any form of past tense. But present? Specifically, Third Person Present? Used sparingly really accent a moment.

Yet present tense is still considered “experimental,” especially in fantasy. For years third person past has dominated the genre and is now considered contemporary.  All the way from Tolkien to Harry Potter. It makes sense, after all, as it lends gravitas to the narrative. A sort of ‘old tale from yore,’ type of scenarios whereas in present tense the action is happening right then, right now.

The Evercharm Trilogy is written in the latter, third person present to be precise, following in the vein of books like the Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. These novels can be niche, as those who like past tense often don’t necessarily like present (and the for the reverse, they usually still like past). Still, I love writing in present tense, and I have been debating all the pros and cons on continuing with it in the new series/Ip.

And then another wrinkle was added into the mix recently, when my wife brought up the difficulty non-native speakers have with present tense. Apparently among French speakers is it very problematic, and one of the reasons why she has difficulty with my writing. So, you see the dilemma? Given that I am sitting smack dab in the middle of continental Europe, I suddenly find my audience shrinking, and shrinking.

 So, what to do? That is a question I will have to make a final decision on later. Though, it is one where I am heavily leaning towards moving to the more contemporary style. If I do, it will require a lot of adjustments. What of my ‘voice’ will be lost, and what will be gained should I do so? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop?

One of those questions we may know the answer too soon.

The post Tense encounters first appeared on S.D. Reeves Books.

Review: I, Jonathan, a Charleston Story, by George Scott

4.5 stars

Vivid, visceral, velvety – Ok, not that last one, I was running out of V adjectives. Though, this rather highlights the problem I have with George WB Scott’s book, I Jonathan, A Charleston Tale of the Rebellion: how do you review a book that swept you away?

I suppose the latter introduction is a start.

The story is narrated by an aging Jonathan Vander to his great-nephew, as he recants his life, specifically his time as a young northerner living in Charleston during the Civil War. I say living, though at first it is more akin to being stranded without any prospects or money. He makes do though, with the help of a large cast of evolving characters.

And what a cast it is. Everyone, from the one-off appearances to the main characters are fully fleshed out. Tangible. Down to earth. Real, and expertly developed, to the point where you feel the characters could pop out of the book at any time. A book, whose storyline bears a sort of real-to-life frankness and grounded nature what still can surprise. But frankly that is a logical end result for the effort. The amount of research invested into the historical accuracy pays compliment to the rest, be it in the dialogue, or simply the character’s interactions or interpretation of events as they unfold.

There are hard to find any specific faults beyond nitpicks, but one could be the overindulgence on inner thoughts, and the moral, existential crisis Johnathan faces regarding the fate of the slaves. We get it, he is troubled and conflicted, but how often it appears in ethical musings regarding race and otherwise, it feels forced. This is a minor qualm, but enough to pull one out of the story.

George WB Scott transports us back in time seemingly so effortlessly and completely, that it is hard to grasp that what we are reading is in fact just historical fiction. From exquisite world building to believable characters and dialogue, there is a lot to love in I, Jonathan, A Charleston Tale. I think many readers will appreciate this book, and if they are anything like me, they will be loathe to leave Charleston behind after.

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A Song in the Dark: Sneak Peak

I thought I would share something a little bit larger than an excerpt; one of the early chapters. Now, keep in mind while this is a full sample chapter, it is still an unedited draft and is likely to change before publication.

Three hunters take turns grumbling as they navigate a sheltered wood. Sethlan, an elf, guides them. Behind him Christaan De Rein, of the Princeps Inspectorem, alternates between counting shadows and insulting the cut of Higgin’s frock.

“Two,” Rein says. “Weren’t you a tailor?”

Their trespass echoes in the heart of the arboreal forest. Boots crush nut and stick, snapping along at a dreadful pace. However, the fault of the noise mostly lays between Artisan and his apprentice.

“One, “Higgins says, ignoring the implied insult.

More than a week has passed since they set out to find the girl Niena, the holder of the Evercharm. At first the tracks were easy enough to find, but this has changed. Gone are the fields and farms. Now, the land is wilder; avoiding thickets and tangles of thorn and brush has become predominant.

We’ve passed her, I know we have, I – movement in the corner of Rein’s eye causes him to smack his shoulder into a tree. The Artisan curses and brushes off his sleeve. “I still say two…”

A flutter in a bush trains his eye away, this time ahead and to the right. Even the Elf sees it, as his attention flickers in the briefest of motions.

“No wait,” Rein continues, breathlessly. “Three.”

The banter forces Sethlan to slow, ending his momentum by grasping a branch with his right hand. And as he looks upon Rein and his assistant, the former can’t help but to stumble to a halt. For the elf’s features are once more focused, and sharp, like a dagger being unsheathed.

“They are more than just shadows. The Udur track us,” the elf says.  “At least four of them.”

That would mean they are being directed. The Inspector, Christaan De Rein, coughs as Higgins joins him.

“We must strike now and disperse them,” Rein barks.

“No.” Higgins voice is hoarse with sudden strain.  “Have you already forgotten what happened the last time?

“Of course not, we were victorious. And now we must attack,” Rein says. “What use are we to the girl otherwise?”

“Victorious? Those were ghouls. The Udur are foul, and like rats, but only in one way,” Higgins hisses. “When you see one, expect there to be more.”

“You would gainsay me in front of the elf?”

Higgins reaches out and lays a shaking hand upon his master’s chest. “You don’t know them as I do. They are beings of the other, and the danger they show you is a deceit; it is not always what they are, but what they bring with them.”

Away from them both, the elf’s stance widens, and he dips his head as if listening to birds chirping at one another. But while master and apprentice argue, a different warning falls to them on a gust.

“Just the wind filling a hollow,” Rein says.

Higgins shakes his head. “Sethlan, didn’t you spot a stream and a waterfall earlier?”

“At the foot of the mountain range. Beyond a field of scree,” he answers, peering over their heads. “West, by southwest. Not far.”

A wail cuts through the dense lanes around them. With boot and arm, Rein, bewildered, is urged forward by his assistant. And Sethlan reacts like a weapon directed, and he pushes them, eyes alighting upon hidden paths even as his feet land. Above, the canopy thickens.

Rein gasps, trying to keep up. “What’s this,” he yells. “What are we running for?”

It is Sethlan who answers. “The Udur stir the dead of men.”

“We need that stream. Running water, guarded by a mountain as old as creation,” Higgins says. “They will be hesitant to pass.”

The Udur keep pace, and their forms seem to leap as shadows at the edges of their peripheral vision. Alongside their brief appearances rides a thick dread that hangs over every crunch of twig. At the edge of a storm cleared path, nature further retreats from their approach in both sight and sound.

The bird song flies away. The buzz of insects’ burrows into leaf and petal. The life of the forest holds its breath in watchful concern. During this time, the Inspector’s thoughts turn inwards.

Has the veil thinned so, that the Teamor can personally direct their hounds? He stops and scans the forest left, then right, slowing his pace more and more each time. Or have the Teamor chosen another representative?

“One of us has to keep up with the elf, sir,” Higgin whispers, drawing equal to him.

“Why are they still following us?” Rein’s voice barely rises over the whisper of leaf against leaf and the rustle of branches. “They have no- “then he hushes.  Those are not forest sounds.

Klere… They are chanting. But I…I killed Chancy. What-”

“Everyone, halt.” Higgins commands. He then stops mid climb between the bough of a low oak, and another tree. “Quickly Sir,” he says. “Do all spells here work the same as back home?”

“I…The worlds of Hearth, Fairhome and Earth all have a shared-”

“I don’t need a bloody history lesson,” Higgins says. “Do they work?”

“Yes,” Rein says. “Curatorium derivative of Gaelic, though. I would not suggest French.”

“I wouldn’t ever try French, anything. You, elf. Come closer.”

A wild light dances between his assistant’s watery eyes. Just as he was resurrected; a desperate, clutching visage. Full of madness. The Inspector slides a foot back, then another, until Higgins yells “quickly now,” jabbing his way with the makeshift wand.

His assistant’s gestures are precise. Deft, and mesmerizing, for such a stocky man. Rein’s disbelief slowly turns into admiration, like twisted strains of grass unraveling.

“Suad na mair.” Higgins evokes, drawing out the last word, the morte of the enchantment.

A chill wind touches Rein’s arms. The spell is uncouth. Ancient, eldritch, and his thoughts roll over Higgin’s strange pronunciation – the words almost seep into his bone. But what frightens the Inspector more, is fading of the land around. As if the vegetation had been washed, and beaten against a rock, and in doing so drained of all life.

The striking smell of rotting leaves wafts in. Then the first Udur appear.

“There,” Rein says. “Two, three-”

Four. Five. Ten. They emerge out of the backdrop of trees with form.  No longer amorphous, long appendages bend and twist at painful angles. And in the middle where their torso should be, strange beaks move, framed by tears and holes in the flesh surrounding, terrible pits that could be eyes, bright as coals and touched with a sickly sheen. Their appearance to the three has the effect of throwing a hound into a clearing with rabbits.

“Ahh, Kak.”

“Suaad na mair.” Higgin’s shouts, casting the spell over his shoulder.

“What have you done?” Rein cries. Around them distinct shapes seethe, closing in like tongs.

“I have reversed a spell.” Higgins answers. “It was made by the dead, to touch the living.”

“Good god. You mean then the living…”

Their gazes lock briefly.

“Run you fools,” Sethlan screams.

Twigs break in rapid staccato underneath Rein’s boots as he runs. Boulders blurred and gray, pass by in his periphery. Saplings. Great oaks – fuzzy, almost amorphous, barely feel real as he grips them for purchase. Up and over. Sometimes, under and through. Only the Udur appear real, glances at them stolen here, and there.

As the forest thins, broken by the debris of ancient landslides, the chant of the Udur returns. First as hoary whispers, nipping at his heels. Then, thundering in the canopy. Encircling. And there is worse, Rein can make out the words now. Spells of binding. Spells of terror.

“They have us,” Rein yells. “They have us.”

Pale things wiggle out of the ground. Left. Right. Ahead. The Inspector stomps one with the heel of his boot, realizing just as the sickening crack hits his ears, that they are arms. Everywhere at once and as if in response there is a piercing wail.

Higgins runs ahead, taking the course the elf must have pathed. But the sight of his body is dwindling. Behind spindle legged shapes of the Udur move through the forest in unnatural gates. Gaining with each heartbeat.

Up a hill covered in loose stone. Up, past a fire-thinned band of trees. Over a log. Around a shattered stump. The whispers now feel so close as to disturb the hair on Rein’s neck. And he, unable to muster himself, swings around at the top of a boulder. A ray of light touches his outstretched hands as he rears to make a desperate fight.

“Giath sporad,” Rein barks. The shield spell explodes from his outstretched hands then shudders with the weight of an Udur. As I thought. The Inspector smiles, but briefly, just as a blade appears from behind and strikes one of the clutching hands away, then plunges deep into one of the attacking Udur. Sethlan has come.

“Keep going, to the foot of the mountain,” Higgin yells.

The elf twists his dagger free, spinning left with the momentum. Dagger and sword before Rein’s eyes. Shrieks erupt left and right of him as his blades strike tendril and appendage alike among an encircling throng.

We can hurt them? Higgin’s spell, devil be damned. Rein scans the tangle of roots and weeds near his feet for something he can use. “Crecy’s Volley Higgins, Crecy’s Volley!”

A nearby branch proves usable, and as Rein raises it up for his own spell, the requested incantation thunders from Higgins to his left, and the result falls like rain, blanketing the field in arrows. Unreal howls wash over them from all around, and as Higgins lets loose another barrage, they are joined by the curses of the elf.

Rein rushes forward bringing Sethlan into the arc of his shield. A summoned arrow had slashed the elf’s sword arm, and the severed end of a tentacle wraps around his leg. His eyes lance the Inspector as he helps him to his feet.

“We can’t kill them,” Higgin says, entering the protective arc. “But this is going to make them bloody determined to kill us.”

On word the barrier shudders in reply from another press of the writhing mass. The same Udur the elf had struck down among them. And as Rein tries to see past the shimmering edges of his spell, he notices, one by one, the feathered shafts from the summoning disappear.

“Listen,” Sethlan says. “Can you not hear it?”

“Yes, they are howling like banshees,” Higgin says. “Rein? I think they are singing one of your Dutch lullabies.”

“No, fool,” the elf hisses. “The waterfall. The stream must be near.”

“Backup, backup,” Rein says. “I can’t see a –”

The Inspector smacks away a hand. Dark soil retches all near his feet while he back peddles up the foothill. “Krijg de tering, you bloody.”

Optyfussen!”

Another crash against the shield staggers the Inspector. Both elf and Higgins close around him, protectively. Together they press, Sethlan leading again. Every attack causes Rein to wince, and more of the dead underfoot drag themselves from their dark beds, no longer deterred by the weakening shield. Until some, even inside, have pulled their torso clear from the ground.

And the power of Higgin’s own spell, begins to fade. At first it is the sounds, the crunch of grass and weed underfoot no longer dulled. Then the smells. The touch of grime, the odor of rotting leaves fade. Finally, the visage around the shield returns to the undulating formless nature of smoke.

Rein’s foot is caught then, and he stumbles, his shield flickering with his loss of focus – losing touch, losing the ability to affect the horde. Higgins is immediately at his side, but all he can do is help the Inspector to crawl on. So, he does. One hand. One foot at a time. The smell of river muck and damp stone hits him. Rein licks his lips and struggles to his feet.

“Are they retreating?” the Inspector whispers.

Sethlan’s feet crash into the water near. “Not yet, look – “

A surge against the rear sends Rein sprawling into the stream. And like a crack in the dam breaking away, so too does the Udur’s hiss roll into a roar. The cries of his partners follow, with the sound of blades slicing air, and the casting of spells. Rein knows his shield is no more. He can feel the prick of its destruction everywhere. Like needles, upon needles.

His hands tremble as he tries to keep from drowning in the ankle-deep water’s flow. He crawls another foot. The clash of battle dies away.

“Solna nea, Oran cruchaid, an beath,” Higgin chants three times.

“Hellfire and damnation,” Rein coughs, spitting up water.  Higgin’s spell sears away the whispers of the Udur behind him, leaving behind a terrible, terrible heat in its wake. The pain from this, and his own would send him back into the brackish waters. But something grasps him by the collar of his frock coat and drags him forward.

The shouts of Higgins, and Sethlan disintegrate as the sun sets.

The post A Song in the Dark: Sneak Peak first appeared on S.D. Reeves Books.

Review Request: Francis Laurent, by Schuyler Randall

As a writer, I know the struggle over trying to create something “unique.” It is a pointless battle – supposedly there are only 8 truly original stories anyhow – and often in this pursuit, we lose something, and usually that is that we forget to author a delightful story. Francis Laurent by Schuyler Randall, has a setup that you may have heard before, but much of what it does, it does well.

The story is told by Raina, the daughter of the titular character. This is an old-fashioned cop-drama, about an FBI agent seeking out the murderers of his partner, and enacting vengeance. No perpetrator is safe, and the corruption goes all the way to the top.

I don’t often pick up this genre, and I agreed to review the book out of a bit of nostalgia; the writer is from, and the story is set in Birmingham Alabama. I am quite happy that I gave it a chance. Mr. Randall weaves action and imagery together in a way that is atmospheric. His prose ranges from good, to excellent. Phrases like “…burning tires blazing through the symphony of car horns,” color scenes where needed, but are used sparingly, showing a deft hand. This is further enhanced by strong characters, paired with great, and believable dialogue. These two aspects rocket the book past the few speed-bumps along the way.

And there are a couple. It’s the rare book that is perfect, and Francis Laurent is not an exception. Aside from the tropism, there are also a few hackneyed sayings that appear, such as “the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place,” or “pedal to the metal.” It is a bit of a pedantic slight by me, and realistically they have a place in this type of novel and setting. What works less are the sometimes overuse of “ly” verbs, and otherwise, which downgrades some of the prose to merely “good.” Also, there is at least one major scene that is not entirely believable.

Tropism, with excellent story telling. Questionable phrases, with strong prose. In the end, I think the good far outweighs the bad. And while the problems keep Francis Laurent, by Schuyler Randall, from getting a top rating from me, this is still a great little book that will surely interest readers aged thirteen and up.

Purchase Links:
| Amazon UK |Amazon US |

The post Review Request: Francis Laurent, by Schuyler Randall first appeared on S.D. Reeves Books.