Rustin Petrae's Blog, page 8

Book Two: Roc Excerpt #2

I thought it would be fun to post some snippets of my progress on Book Two: Roc.  In keeping with that, here is another one.  I'll keep posting little bits here and there up until July 2013 when it will be released.  Current progress stats: Just started Chapter 14.

Book Two: Roc
continues the story of Rone and Keiara, two teens with a budding
romance although they come from opposing races constantly at war.

Here's some more of Chapter 1.

Asherwoke up first.  The wind had died downsomewhat.  He put on his heavy coat andwent outside.  It was still snowing, butnot as heavily as before.  The sun wasfiltering through grey, dense-looking clouds. He had a feeling the weather was going to be worse than it wasyesterday.  He thought about trying toconvince Rone to head back down again but immediately dismissed the idea.  He remembered the look Rone had gotten on hisface when he’d suggested it yesterday and was not eager to see it again.  For a minute, he thought the Rook prince hadgone insane.

Helooked back up the slope, to the distant peak that was nearly invisible.  Somewhere up there was his sister.  Or so Rone said.  They had trekked across Purga, hurdlingnumerous situations that had almost gotten the three of them killed (a companyof rebel soldiers that seemed eager to kill anything they came across, aquicksand pit that almost claimed Fowler, and a very angry and particularlymean crocodile in the Farwick Swamp, just to name a few) only to end up at thefoot of the Polaris Mountain range.  Attimes, it felt like Rone had no idea what he was doing or where he wasgoing.  At others, he seemed like a manguided by something Asher couldn’t see. The closer they’d gotten to the mountains, the less Rone looked aimlessand the more he looked guided.  It was weird, but true.  When Asher had asked how they were evensupposed to find Keiara in the range, Rone had pointed to one of the tallestones without hesitation and said that one.

Hehad no doubts.  He’d said it as if Keiaraherself had told him.

Maybe she did, he thought tohimself and not for the first time.  Therelationship between the two was still a mystery to him.  Each one continued to put their own lives onthe line to save the other.  One a Rookand the other a Terraquois.  As far as heknew, nothing like that has ever happened in the entire history of Purga.  The fighting between the two races hasstretched back for centuries.

Therewas no denying that some sort of connection had been made between Keiara andRone. A connection that was just as clearly unbreakable.  He’d watched a man shoot Rone in the back andtry to torch his sister alive and yet both had walked away virtually unscathed.  Keiara more so than Rone.

Rone still hasthat tiny scar from where the…, he paused, searching for the word Ronehad used, bullet.  Right. From where the bullet was digging into him.  Keiara, however, had walked through theflames without getting burned at all. She even controlled them like they were a part of her body.  And then she had turned into that…thatthing.  He shuddered as an image ofthe monster his sister had become flashed through his mind.  Even flying high overhead, he’d gotten a goodlook at her and the fear she’d inspired. He’d seen hardened, experienced soldiers throw down their guns and runaway with panic etched on their faces and blazing in their eyes.  He couldn’t actually see their faces, but ifhe could’ve, that’s what he would’ve seen. He was sure of that.

Hewent back inside the tent, the cold proving too much for him.  The heater that Rone had created was stillgoing full blast, creating a thick, enveloping heat as soon as he gotinside.  Rone stirred fitfully in hissleep and Fowler was sort of twitching.

Hewas about to go over to Rone and wake him up, but the Rook’s face suddenlytwisted into a grimace of pain and his hand shot down to his left leg.  His eyes popped open.

“Youokay?” Asher asked.

Ronedidn’t answer for a second.  The wave oftingling, electric-like pain shooting through his amputated leg was the onlything he could concentrate on at the moment. When it passed, he looked over at Asher.

“Yea,”he replied, taking a deep, steadying breath. He pulled his hand away from his leg and started getting up.  “I’ll be fine.”

“Howoften does it do that?” Asher said, glancing half-heartedly at the brightsilver of Rone’s prosthetic leg.

“Everyonce in a while.  Always catches me offguard when it does it.”  He startedpacking away all their things, stuffing them back inside one of the three packshe’d created for their journey.

“What’sit feel like?” Asher asked, curious.  IfKeiara were with them, she probably would’ve slapped him on the shoulder andtold him to quit being rude, but he couldn’t help it.  He was curious and when he was curious, heonly relented when it was sated.  Maybewhen he got older, he would learn to control it better.

“Itfeels like lightning shooting around in my leg. And tingling.  Lots of tingling,”Rone replied, not looking at Asher.

Theyquit talking and the silence was heavy and oppressive.  Then, Fowler let out a very long, very loudsnore.  Rone looked at Asher and Asherlooked at Rone.  Then they both howledwith laughter, the tension evaporating with it.

“Wha..,”Fowler asked, his voice still rough with sleep. He blinked at the both of them. They were still laughing like lunatics. “Wha’s so funny?”

“Nothing,”Asher managed, wiping tears from his eyes.

Fowlerlooked angry for a moment, but Rone brought out some food and his eyes sort ofglazed over.  He grabbed his share ofcrackers, dried vegetables, dried fruits, and water and started gobbling themdown.  Asher watched the food disappearinto his friend’s mouth with awe, wondering how he never managed to chokehimself.  He took his own share of thefood and ate as well and Rone did the same. When they were all done, they packed up their stuff again (with a loudgroan from Fowler).  Rone made the heaterand light burst apart into nanos that returned to the mechpaks on his forearms.

Theywent into the cold.  Rone put a finger tothe tent and it burst apart too.  Thestreams of tiny microscopic robots twisted through the air until they weresafely back inside their mechpaks. Fowler shivered instantly, turning hateful eyes on the two of them.

“Ihate you guys,” he told them, but he was ignored.

Rone’sfocus turned razor sharp again, his eyes trained on the ground directly infront of him.  He concentrated on puttingone foot in front of the other.  Heblocked out the wind and the cold.  Heblocked out how high they still had to go. He blocked out Fowler’s constant complaining.  The only thing he didn’t block out were histhoughts of Keiara.  That was the forcedriving him forward and he let it.  Helet it cement his determination in his mind and turn him into an indestructibleengine that would keep going and going until he found her.

Theykept the pace that Rone set for four hours, but after that he could tell Asherand Fowler were getting exhausted.  Hedecided to stop so they could break for lunch. He created a partial enclosure that blocked most of the wind and snow,recreated the heater, and handed out some more food.  They ate in silence, all of them cold,miserable, and tired.  So, so tired.  The same thought kept popping up in each oftheir minds.  They weren’t going tosurvive much longer.

“Can’tyou just use your flying-thing?” Asher had asked yesterday as they all stoodlooking up at the giant mountain.

“Theweather’s too harsh.  Too much wind andsnow and it will only get worse the higher I fly.  I wouldn’t be able to control my flight orsee anything.  More than likely I’ll runmyself into the side of the mountain and die,” he’d explained.

“Oh,”Asher replied, feeling stupid for asking the question.

“Thatwould be bad,” Fowler had commented.

Theyfinished eating.  Rone grabbed some snowand started boiling it, adding ingredients that Asher had found during theirtrek to the mountain range to make a sweet, and vaguely spicy, tea.  They all drank, relishing the heat.  Rone let the two boys rest up a little morebefore he forced them to hike up the mountain again.  He closed his eyes for a moment.

She’s close now, hethought.  He didn’t know how he knewthat, but he did.  It was a simple,flat-out truth.  Like the sky is blue orthe grass is green.  Keiara is close.

Hewondered, idly, if she could feel him. If he could feel her presence (it felt like something tugging at hismind), then it stood to reason that she could feel his.  He hoped she could.  He wanted her to know that he wascoming.  That he would save her.

“Let’sget started,” he said, standing up.

Keep checking back for more excerpts of Book Two: Roc!

Feel free to comment, share, like, or re-post.  I would love for word to spread of my epic sci-fi/fantasy Histories of Purga series.

 

 

 

copyright by Rustin Petrae 2013

 

 

 

New Wallpaper App Featuring Dragon, Blood Ties, and Hybrid Earth

This is a new app that I created which features designs from me (Rustin Petrae | Graphic Design) and artist Fredrick Allison Jr. who is also doing the artwork for Hybrid Earth.  There will be constant updates to the wallpapers when new titles come out or new art becomes available.  It is an awesome collection of stuff with more to come!

Download the Awesome Wallpapers app here:

http://www.appsgeyser.com/425186

Here are just some of the wallpapers in the collection:

There are a lot more, so have fun with them!

All works copyrighted by Rustin Petrae and Fredrick Allison Jr.

Sneak Peak of Page 1: Hybrid Earth (The Comic)

This is the first page of Hybrid Earth.  Artwork by Fredrick Allison Jr.  Let me know what you think and share with your friends.

[image error]

Copyright by Rustin Petrae 2013

Artwork Copyright by Fredrick Allison Jr 2013

New Logo for Hybrid Earth

Here is the reveal for the logo of Hybrid Earth, the comic book that I helped create based on my Hybrid Earth flash fiction stories.  The artist for this awesome undertaking is Fredrick Allison Jr.

Copyright by Rustin Petrae 2013

My Review of: The Guardians of the Akasha

I received the Guardians of the Akasha for free in exchange for an honest and fair review. Overall, I thought the presentation of the cover and the blurb were excellent. Both really drew me to this book and made me want to read it.  I thought the imagery of the cover was very professional.  Here's my thoughts on the rest of the book.

 

Things that I liked:

 

Overall, the biggest thing that I liked about this book was the writing itself. It thought it was very good. It didn't confuse me and had a very good flow. The characters felt genuine and real. The dialogue, as well, felt genuine and real.

 

Things that I didn't like:

 

The story itself didn't overly impress me. I found I had a hard time swallowing the name Akasha used in place of magic. I might not have got what the author was trying to do with that, but I wasn't on board with it through the story. I wasn't a fan of the villain either. He didn't really come off as a evil and hard to defeat as I would've liked. I thought he was pretty one dimensional as well. I found myself not really wanting to keep reading at times. There wasn't a whole lot of suspense. That's more of a personal opinion, however. I am sure there are tons of people out there that would feel differently.

 

Overall, the four star rating comes from the author's writing as opposed to the actual story. I felt it was really good and deserved to be recognized. However, I wasn't drawn into the story. It didn't really compel me to keep reading. The ending was very anti-climatic and because of that, it took me longer to read than I my normal pace.

The Phoenix's Gift

Here is my newest blog freebie (as promised).  Again, for those of you that missed the prior blog post about The Phoenix's Gift, here is a sort of mini-blurb.

A man's daughter is terminally ill.  While visiting her at the hospital, he is confronted by a strange woman.  Something is off with her.  He realizes this almost immediately.  He wants her gone.  Until, that is, she offers him something that he can't refuse.  But...there's a price.  And it is a high one.  Will he be willing to pay?  Read on and find out.

The Phoenix's Gift

I heard footsteps and looked up.  A doctor in green scrubs was there, his eyes sad.

“Dr. George?” I asked, getting up quickly.  My stomach was knotted with dread and fear. 

Dr. George Marks was the oncology specialist at South View Hospital, where I was currently at.

A lump of fear was closing on my heart.  This was the hospital where my wife and I took our daughter, Kimberly, so she could beat the tumor slowly killing her.

Next to me was my wife, Carrie.  Her frail, thin hand was wrapped around mine and squeezing as hard as she could.  I looked at her.  Her pale green eyes were creased with worry lines.  Her mouth was always pulled down into a grim frown. Her face was ravaged by stress and fear. She looked forty but she was only thirty-two.  I tried to reassure her, but in my heart I knew the news wasn’t good.

Dr. George looked at us with genuine grief.

“I’m afraid the news isn’t good,” he responded.  “The tumor has grown aggressively.  I’m sorry but there’s nothing more we can do.”

My wife cried and tears blurred my own vision.  But I wasn’t sad.  I was angry. Furious even.  We were in one of the best hospitals in the country with one of the best oncologists in the country and it wasn’t enough.  It just wasn’t enough to save her.  I wanted to throw things.  I wanted to slam people into walls or throw them through the hospital’s many plate glass windows.  Instead, I simply lost all strength in my legs and collapsed into the chair.

It felt like my world was ending.  I saw my daughter’s beautiful, smiling face  and I finally did cry.  I imagined her as a ten year old, a fifteen year old, a twenty year old, a thirty year old, a fifty year old.  I saw her there, in my mind, in all the stages of a life that she would never see and it broke my heart into pieces too small to put back together again.

“Can we see her now?” I asked, forcing myself to actually speak the words even though they felt like shards of glass as they worked past my throat.

“I’ll take you to her.”

They followed Dr. George through the hospital until they came to a simple room.  The walls were pink and purple with giant, hand-painted butterflies everywhere.  It was a sweet room, perfect for a little girl.

I saw her in that bed and had to work really hard to clear the emotion from my face.  I didn’t want to worry her and Kimmy knew how to read people.  She knew how to read people with scary accuracy, even though she was only six.

“Daddy!” she yelled happily.  “Mommy!”

Her voice was jubilant, but it was whispery, like she didn’t have the strength to make it any louder than that.  I smiled back at her. 

“Hey, punkin,” I said.

“Hey baby,” Carrie told her, smiling weakly.

We went to her.

She looked bad. Her eyes were dark circles and she looked really pale.  Her hair, once a beautiful blonde, was lifeless now.  It had none of the vibrant color I was used to.  She looked more like twigs than flesh and bone.  And her shoulders.  Her shoulders popped out of her body, making her look like a badly made scarecrow.

I tried to smile. I tried to keep my face calm.

“Daddy,” she said. There was a small, sad smile on her face.  “Things aren’t all right, are they?  I’m going to die.”

“I c-can’t,” Carrie whispered to me.  Her eyes were red and bloodshot.  “M-mommy will be right back.”  She went outside and I let her go.

I sat down next to my daughter, grasped her hands and started telling her jokes just so I could see her smile.  I talked with my daughter for a long time.  After every passing second with her, another little piece of me would wither and die.

At some point, Kimmy drifted off to sleep.  I was getting a little groggy myself, but I stayed awake just watching her.

“I’m so sorry, punkin,” I told her, grabbing her hand tight and kissing it.  “I’m so sorry daddy couldn’t make you better.”

I cried for an hour. My wife still hadn’t come back yet. I guess I could forgive it.  Part of me, a part that I hated more than anything else, wanted to be gone too.  I didn’t want to keep torturing myself, over and over again.  But I couldn’t stop,either.  Kimmy was my drug of choice.  My addiction.  And it was just as destructive to me as all the other painful addictions on the planet.

I heard footsteps.

“Carrie?” I started to ask, looking up as I did, but it wasn’t my wife.  Instead, a woman I've never seen before stood there.  Here hair was a bright red.  It shifted when she walked forward, making her hair ripple and look like liquid flame.  Her bright green eyes pierced straight into my soul, seeming to examine it.  She smiled, showing off flawless white teeth.

She sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the bed as my own.  She crossed one long,white leg over the other and placed both hands on her knee.  Her dark, hunter green dress shifted slightly. 

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Your daughter is very beautiful,” the strange woman responded.  She had a weird accent, something I’d never heard before.  She gazed at Kimmy for a minute, then she reached to brush a strand of hair off her face.  My hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with brutal strength.

“Don’t,” I whispered, my voice harsh and threatening,“touch her.”

She didn’t respond. She merely looked at me, a small smile touching her face.  Suddenly my hand started getting hot.  I hissed in pain and jerked it back, holding it close to my chest.  I looked down at it, my mouth hanging slightly open with shock. It was a bright, cherry red and several blisters had popped up on the palm.

“What are you?” I asked, babying my injured hand.

“She is beautiful,” the woman replied instead,ignoring my question.

“Why are you here?” I asked, getting impatient.  My irritation seemed to get through to her.  She looked at me, her smile deepening.

“That is a better question, I think,” she looked at me.  “You love her?”

“Of course I do.” I glanced down at Kimmy.  She was still sleeping.  She didn’t look very peaceful anymore.  Her forehead was scrunched up and furrowed.  She was in pain.  “I would do anything for her.”

“I’ve watched Kimberly for a while now,” the stranger responded.  “She’s very brave.  Did you know she pretends she’s not in excruciating pain while you and your wife are with her?”

She looked at my face, at the surprise there.

“No?”  She smiled again.  “I didn’t think so.  Like I said, she’s very brave.  She didn’t want you or her mother to suffer too much at her expense.”

“H-how do you know that?” I asked.

“I watch her,” the woman replied easily.  “She’s remarkable.”

“What do you want with her?” I asked, feeling scared.

“You misunderstand me, Derek.”

A shiver ran up my spine.  I hadn’t told her my name.

“How do you know my name?”

She leaned toward me.  “You ask a lot of questions.”

Things started clicking in my head.  Like the burns on my palm.  Her knowledge of me and my daughter even though we’ve never met.  Her strange accent and almost luminescent green eyes.

I was afraid of the stranger, but I was also angry.

“I tend to be inquisitive when I’m speaking to something that isn’t human,” I replied.

“I see Kimberly got your intelligence.”  She laughed.

“What are you and what do you want with my daughter?” I asked again.

“I like you, Derek. You’re very smart and brave like your daughter,” she replied, leaning back in her chair.  “I’ve come here to give a gift.  Sadly, however, there will have to be a price.”

“I hate to break this to you, but that is, by definition, not a gift.”

“Untrue.  The gift is for Kimberly.  The payment comesfrom you,” she returned.

“What payment?” I asked.  “What are you talking about?”

She glanced down at her body, running her hands over it.  “This body is growing weak.  It will not be able to contain me much longer.  I need a suitable host to transfer my essence into so that I may survive. But it must be a willing host, Derek. A willing host makes things…easier.”

I looked at her again.  I noticed odd traceries running just beneath the skin now, forming a red pattern that looked similar to the rippling light patterns water can cast. 

“What are you?” I asked again.  “And answer me this time.  If we’re going to deal, I want to at least know what I’m dealing with.”

“I’m a phoenix,” she responded at once.

“A phoenix?”

“The one of myth and legend and in the flesh before you,” she said, laughing again.

“So you want what? My body?”  I asked her.

“Yes.  You’re strong.  And healthy.   You’ll do quite nicely,” she responded.  “In return for your sacrifice, I will give you Kimberly’s life.  I can heal her.  I can burn the sickness out of her and she’ll live a long, healthy life. She will outlive all her loved ones, feeling each of their deaths like a sword driven into her heart.  Starting with yours.  Are you prepared to make that choice for her?”

I looked at Kimmy, and my tears flowed freely again.  I saw the look of pain on her face.  I saw her furrowed brows.  I saw the pale skin and the scraggly, deadened hair.  I saw her skinny, scarecrow arms.

But that wasn’t the only thing I saw.  I saw her life again.  I saw her at ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty, and fifty again.  I saw it and this time I knew I could make it happen.  I had the power to give her that life.

And I took it.

“Okay,” I said, quietly.  “You give Kimmy her life and I give you my body, but you heal her first.”

The woman rose from her chair without a word, holding out one hand.  Floating about an inch above her palm was a tiny ball of fire. It burned so bright.  Its brilliance drove spikes of pain into my head.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, alarmed.

“Shh,” she whispered back, holding up one palefinger to her lips.  She returned her attention back to Kimmy.  My daughter lay in bed, her brow still furrowed against her pain.  The woman brought that ball of flame down toward her head.  Kimmy’s mouth suddenly opened on its own, expelling a breath in a long, silent sigh.  My heart raced in my chest.  I could feel it hammering against my ribcage.

As the woman’s hand got closer to Kimmy’s open mouth, the ball of flame lifted away from her palm and flowed down my dauther’s throat.  The skin of her neck suddenly glowed, the way a finger will if you hold a flashlight up behind it.  I watched that hideous light run down her esophagus and into her stomach.

For a long time nothing happened.  Then Kimmy bucked and flopped on the bed like she was being electrocuted.  Her eyesfilled with bright yellow and orange flames that shot out toward the ceiling.  Her mouth abruptly opened aswide as it would go.  Flames shot out of it as well. The room should’ve been burning to the ground, but it wasn’t.  Nothing caught on fire.

“Stop it!” I yelled. “Stop now!”

I tried to grab hold of her wrist again but it burned me the minute I grabbed hold of it. I jerked it back.

“Please,” I yelled. “Make it stop.”

I was ignored. Whatever process was happening was too late to stop.  I watched my daughter buck and convulse.  I watched her trying to scream and I felt horrible.

It was a mistake! my mind yelled at me.

Then Kimmy suddenly went limp.  Those horrible, shooting flames cut off.  Her eyes closed and her mouth shut.  Her head rolled to one side.

The woman backed away slowly.  The red traceries were even more pronounced than before and she looked weak. Her eyes fluttered once.  I went to her as she fainted, stopping her from crashing to the floor.

“It’s done,” she whispered.

“She’ll live?” I asked.

She nodded slowly. “The fire consumed her sickness. It will also keep her safe against others.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”  I asked.

“D-daddy?” Kimmy asked.  My heart seemed to explode in my chest with excitement at the sound of her voice.  It sounded strong.  I cried, and laughed, laughed and cried.  I grasped her hand in mine.  I kissed her cheek and she smiled at me.  She looked good.  She looked…healthy.

“How do you feel, punkin?” I asked her. 

She took some deep breaths.  She lifted her arms and legs.  She looked around, a dazzling light in her eyes.

“Great!  I feel better than ever!” she replied, laughing merrily.  “Why are you crying?”

“I’m crying because I’m happy.  I think you’ll be okay now.  Do you believe that?”  I asked her.

“I know I am,” she replied.

A hand fell on my shoulder.  I glanced at the phoenix.  She was dying.  One arm was blackened.  Cracks and fissures appeared in the flesh, oozing blood.  I could see veins of blackish-red running up the side of her neck and across one cheek.

“It’s time,” she said.

I nodded and turned back to Kimmy.  “Punkin, I have to go now okay.  I have to go, but I need you to know that I love you.  I need you to underst and that more than anything else.  I love you and I always will.  Say it back to me, okay?”

“You love me,” she repeated, but there was a look of deep concern on her face.

“Remember that,” I told her.  “Will you do that?”

“Always and forever, daddy,” Kimmy replied.

I kissed her forehead.

“Bye punkin,” I told her.  “Take care of Mommy when I’m gone.”

“Please don’t go,” Kimmy pleaded.  “Please.”

“I have to. Sometimes, daddies do things that we have to, to protect the people we love.  I’m a daddy and I did something to protect you.  Now because of that something, I have to leave.”

She tried to plead some more, but I walked out.  I cried hard because of that.  I cried for the loss I’d inflicted on her.

I followed the woman.  She led me outside to a secluded section of lawn by a massive oak tree.  She was leaning heavily against its trunk, the wood there smoking slightly.  She looked up at me when I came to her, dazzling green eyes seeming to fade by the second.

“What do I do now?” I said, my heart pounding.

“Just…kiss me,” the phoenix explained.

I thought about running away, but I didn’t.  I didn’t want her to go after Kimmy.  So instead, I leaned forward and placed my mouth against her lips.  They were cracked and bleeding now.  I did my best to ignore that.  As I kissed her, I could feel heat splashing against me.  I opened my eyes.  She was burning.  Literally on fire.  Her skin split and ripped open and living flame poured out.  It flowed into my nostrils and mouth, coursing through my entire body.  It ran through the nooks and crannies of my brain and set fire to every nerve ending.

Then I felt it. A presence.  A mind.  It was a soothing one, not terribly invasive.  And it was ancient.

“Be easy, Derek,” the voice cooed.  “Be easy. Just know that Kimmy will always be safe.”

“Get it over with,” I commanded, harshly.

The presence overcame me at that point.  It overcame me and then everything was gone.  Everything I was.  Everything I had been. Everything I might’ve been.

The only thing I kept that was my own was Kimmy’s smiling, beautiful face.

I hope every one enjoys the story.  It's one of my personal favorites.

copyrighted by Rustin Petrae 2013

 

ChiArt Black/Colors

I thought I would put up another one of my pieces. This is a by-product of my experimentation with Adobe Illustrator.  At the time I was messing with creating some custom brush sets and applied them to the piece.  I thought it came out looking pretty cool and was actually pretty popular.

copyright by Rustin Petrae 2013

Minotaur Green/Black

I thought I would share some of my past design and art pieces that I've done.  This is a picture of a minotaur that I did awhile back.  I added some cool effects to it and got something that I thought looked pretty cool.

Book Two: Roc Excerpt #1

I thought it would be fun to post some snippets of my progress on Book Two: Roc.  Currently, I'm  on Chapter 4 and it's going really smoothly so far.  I'll post a little bit of the book here and there up until its release July 2013.

Book Two: Roc continues the story of Rone and Keiara, two teens with a budding romance although they come from opposing races constantly at war.

Here's a little bit of Chapter 1.  It picks up where I left off in Book One, with Rone trying to find Keiara after she escapes the Blak Army.

The wind howled around three figures trudging up the side of a mountain.  Their faces were red, their eyes squinted shut against the cold, and their hands were enveloped by thick, wool-lined gloves.  Heavy coats with thickly padded hoods covered their heads and bright silver packs were strapped to their backs.  They all wore about three layers of pants.  Despite all of their efforts, each one was nearly frozen solid.

“We need to go back the way we came!” one of them shouted.  He screamed it as loud as he could, trying to be heard over the shrieking winds.

The figure in the lead turned around.  There was a hard, unyielding glint in his icy blue eyes.

“I’m not going back, Asher!” he yelled.

“Rone, this is suicide. Even if she’s up here, there’s no way we can get to her. We have to be reasonable!” Asher begged. He hated himself for even saying the words, but somebody had to. If they kept going, the only thing they would accomplish was their slow, frozen deaths. He glanced up, way up.  They were on one of the biggest mountains in the Polaris range. Its snow-capped peak was still a couple of thousand feet up.  It was too much.

“Can we go home?” Fowler asked from the back.  His eyes were squinted so tightly they looked like they were closed.

“Shut up!” Rone yelled, whirling on the both of them in fury.  Asher and Fowler both flinched.  “Just shut up! I’m not leaving her.  She risked everything to save my life and I am going to do the same for her.  She’s here, I know she is.”

He turned away from them and started trudging up the mountain’s treacherous slopes again, his body bent forward slightly to shield himself from the wind.  Asher let out a breath and followed after the Rook.  Fowler grumbled to himself and started walking as well. He wished he’d never left Vitari.

Rone kept walking.  He slipped several times, falling heavily onto the icy snow, only to get back up and doggedly continue.  A voice inside his mind screamed at him to stop being such an idiot. He was going to get himself killed, along with Asher and Fowler, but he ignored it.  He shut it out.  The only thing he let himself believe was that he would see Keiara again.  That he would get to hold her, comfort her, kiss her, love her.  He could still see her tied to the post,flames wreathing her like a dress, her eyes streaming as Wilhelm pulled the trigger and shot him.  He saw her as she was in Vitari, beautiful and alluring. Exotic.  Compassionate.  He remembered the first time he’d seen her face, after he’d woken up in a Terraqouis healer’s hut, scared out of his mind and utterly alone.  He’d been disoriented and confused (and a little violent), but still thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

Hours went by and it looked as if they’d made no progress.  To make things worse, night was coming on fast and the snow and wind only seemed to pick up.  The temperature plummeted.  Despite his best efforts, Rone knew that they needed to stop and make camp.  They needed to shield themselves from the weather or they wouldn’t last another hour.  He looked through the blinding snow, trying to find a place that would offer some measure of protection against the elements.  Thirty or forty feet up the mountain was an overhanging ledge. The protection it offered was minimal at best, but they were out of options.

“We’ll camp there,” he said, pointing up the slope to the ledge.  Asher nodded his head, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.  Fowler just let out a sort of grunt, his entire body trembling.

They hiked to the overhang and Rone quickly shed his pack.  His nanos flew out and created a sturdy domed tent with solid metal walls.  A circular door opened and they all shuffled inside. It was pitch black, but Rone took care of it.  He willed his nanos to create an electric lantern that he placed in the middle of the tent.  The shrieking winds could still be heard outside, but their banshee-like screams were muffled.

“Can you make anything that will give us heat?” Fowler asked, hugging himself.  His body was still trembling violently.

Rone concentrated for a moment.  When he had what he wanted firmly pictured in his mind, he had his nanos create it.  A cylindrical object with slatted vents appeared, blasting 360 degrees of heat into the tent.  He turned to his mechpak and tapped a few buttons on the screen.  The blueprint for the heater suddenly appeared and he saved it into his database.  He knew he’d need it again.

Asher and Fowler immediately sat as close to the heater as they could.  Rone moved closer to it too, but weirdly enough, he didn’t feel as cold as the other two seemed to be.  His body wasn’t trembling and his teeth weren’t chattering.  His face was slightly red, and that was about it.  If his thoughts weren’t preoccupied with Keiara, he probably would’ve wondered why that was.

After everyone got warmed up, they slid into their respective sleeping bags and tried to get some sleep.

Keep checking back for more excerpts of Book Two: Roc!

Feel free to comment, share, like, or re-post.  I would love for word to spread of my epic sci-fi/fantasy Histories of Purga series.

 

Blood Ties: The First has its first review!

I am excited to say that Blood Ties has gotten its first review on Smashwords.com.  It was given five stars and had some really great comments.  I love hearing feedback on my books and stories so I was glad to see it there.

Here's what the review had to say:

I have always been drawn to stories about werewolves, vampires, and other creatures of the horror genre; this book was no different. It was an easy read with plenty of dialog and action to keep you turning the pages so to speak. I enjoyed the novel and finished it in two evenings. I look forward to the next one in October. Mr. Petrae has a new fan. My only drawback was that the novel could be longer. I have added it to my website as a recommendation with a click link. I hope others give it a chance; it is well worth the price and an enjoyable read.

Thank you very much.  I'm glad to know I have a new fan.

Also, the reviewer liked my book so much that they decided to feature it on their website.  Follow the link and check it out: http://www.gclian.com/