Nathan Francis Zuchlinski's Blog, page 2

Final Draft Completed

Four-hundred sixty pages later and untold hours spread across a period of twenty-five years…the final draft of my novel is finally completed.

Special thanks is owed to my parents, Jerry and Viola, my cousin Kallie, my aunt Teresa, and especially my beautiful wife, Mayumi. The significance of their feedback cannot be stressed enough. 

Stay tuned for more news regarding publication!

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Blood

Kaijza saw the ogre charging from the side and used his momentum to throw him up and over her head. Snow avalanched from the tree into which he collided. Sparing no time at all, the war-chief rammed through a pair of interlocked shields and drenched her knife in blood. Two ogres were slain in quick succession. A sword slashed Kaijza from behind but failed to penetrate her mail. Spinning about, she deflected the next attack with a skillful parry. Pivoting backwards, she then maneuvered around the ogre’s side and cut his throat with extraordinary speed and accuracy. A fourth ogre snarled viciously and managed to grab a handful of Kaijza’s ivory hair. It would only be a brief disadvantage—she bit the ogre’s wrist and then knocked him unconscious with a seismic head-butt. A prolonged exchange of attacks supervened. Lakhyna worked up enough courage to stand but her knees wobbled like those of a newborn fawn. One of the ogres took note and shifted his aggression accordingly. This proved unwise. Kaijza used the extra space to execute a spectacular series of attacks, easily overwhelming her lone adversary. The last ogre chopped at Lakhyna with his axe, but she absorbed the blow with her shield. Fate would have it that the blade got stuck in the wood, delaying his next assault. Kaijza plunged her knife into the ogre’s kidney, marking the end of the skirmish with a fountain of spurting blood.

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Crossing the Kinglink

And true to Lakhyna’s prognosis, the situation did not improve. In fact, it got worse—much worse. Not only did the ferocity of the storm intensify tenfold, causing Pors’tannli to list dramatically, but also, there was an acute disturbance in the sferdusha. Having already experienced a similar event the morning after leaving Ruffingham, Naznoak recognized it at once. The hair on his nape stood at attention as he recalled the otherworldly entities presumed responsible for that occasion. Unfortunately, the chaotic weather made no allowance for deeper reflection. Keeping one’s footing was a challenge, to say the least, and howling wind thrashed the caravel with freezing rain. Lakhyna clung desperately to a bedpost and could do naught but watch in terror as a layer of ice accumulated on the cabin windows. Propelled by the ship’s continuous rise and fall over the massive waves, the ceiling lanterns swung back and forth like clock pendulums. The woody groans of the hull were terrible, it sounded like the caravel would tear apart at any moment.

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