C.N. Faust's Blog, page 19

Orcs and Aliens – adspace campaign!

Hello my darlings,

For Orcs and Aliens magazine, we have decided to open up some opportunities for YOU (yes, you) to advertise your business/book/craft/person/organization/whatever-have-you in the very first issue!!

WHAT YOU GET – Space in our issue for your ad! We have different sizes to suit your needs at prices that will suit any budget. And with a donation of an extra $10 on top of your add, you will get acknowledgement with sponsorship notation on our website, Twitter, and Facebook page.

WHAT DOES IT COST? A full page ad is $25, a half-page ad is $15, and a quarter or basic ad is $10.

HOW DO I PAY? All payments will be made through PayPal or by Cashier’s Check.

WHO DO I EMAIL? Email futurefantasypub@outlook.com and be sure to put “Ad Space – (size of ad)” in the subject line!

I have posted examples of each type of ad below. If you have any questions feel free to comment and / or email us! Thanks a bunch. Even if you can’t / don’t have a reason to buy an ad, please spread the word as much as you can!

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Your most adored,

C.N.F.

So Much to Do!

Hello my darlings,

Days have been busy, nights have been long. I have been working furiously on all of my projects and trying to make things happen. There is a lot on my plate, but you know that that is how I like it best.

A look at all of the (awesome) upcoming projects I have going on:

The first issue of Orcs and Aliens magazine, featuring novel excerpts by Charles Yallowitz and Noemi Betancourt; short stories by Lilith Colbert, Brian Wagner and myself, poems by Lilith Colbert and Jessa Austin Motte, artwork by Roy Cokenour, and all other sorts of things! We are still accepting submissions, so don’t hesitate to send us your novel excerpt/poetry/short story/artwork to futurefantasypub@outlook.com
10,000 words into “The Hollow Living”, my goal is 90,000 by August. Can I do it? Of course I can. :p
Character designs and information to fill “The Dragoloth Compendium” (I seriously don’t know what else to name it. Got any suggestions?), which while it doesn’t have a release date, may very well have a cover reveal soon!
Memorizing one of Titania’s monologues for a Midsummer’s Night Fairy Faire that is coming up on Saturday.
Planning a wedding!
Considering limited edition (signed) hardcovers of The Dragon’s Disciples, The Heretic Priest, and The Hollow Living.

Again, not a lot, but it’s enough, right? I have a ton more to do. In August I am going to place some orders for hardcopies of The Dragon’s Disciples and The Heretic Priest. Some as promised prizes, some for giveaways, and some for stock in two different stores that I am considering. It’s a start, right? It’s not B&N … yet … but baby steps! 

We are planning on having a huge yardsale on July 6th to help gather up funds for the wedding. Thankfully, I have some wonderful family members who are chipping in where they can, but of course the bulk of it is going to be in venue and such. All of this on top of the fact that daddy needs a new computer by the time school rolls around – not merely for those pesky papers but for the ability to continue to write his next epic novels.

So that is enough talking instead of doing – I am off to go hammer out more progress on all of these projects!

Your most adored,

C.N.F.

So Many Good Things!

Hello my darlings,

There are LOTS of exciting new things that are happening on this end, and they all seem to be flooding in at once! It must be because June is ending. Nobody likes June. Good riddance.

So, where to start? Well, I got permission from the awesome creator of http://www.heromachine.com (where I have been rendering all of my character sketches like this one:)

High Priest Felix d’Artion, everybody

….To use all of my character sketches in the compendium I have been working on, so that is GREAT. Full-color illustrations? YES please! Some of them I will have to polish up a bit here and there, but right now I am getting all of the rough drafts done, and I have like, a million to do. (Closer to a smidge over 100, but you know). This also means that I can do the cover art and hopefully have that be kickass as well. We shall see, won’t we? The things I can do.

The next awesome thing on the list is that the magazine that my partner and I are starting Orcs and Aliens (still accepting submissions btw!) has gotten some AWESOME art submissions from artist Roy Cokenour (you can find his gallery HERE) and I am more than enthusiastic about how wonderful his work is and how well it fits with the themes of our magazine. Things are just finally beginning to fall into place! Of course, I had to catch up on some late emails (I thought I had sent out submission acceptance emails, when in truth I hadn’t, I had just sent out confirmations! :-/ ) And so if you submitted a piece to me and did NOT get a definite yes/no answer, pllleeaaasee write me an email or leave me a comment letting me know. I am trying to be a good editor! But I guess I’ve got to start keeping up with things a little better.

Speaking of Orcs and Aliens, we keep getting more submissions and more people who are interested in signing on as staff as either editors or steady writers. I just feel like we’re really gonna be able to pull this off. If you are really truly interested in being an editor, or in just becoming one of our on-staff writers, then please email me! If you and I have talked about it and it is something you want to do then yeah, doubly email me either at cnfaust@outlook.com or futurefantasypub@outlook.com, whichever tickles your fancy.

Speaking of emails and things to do, I better get cracking with the other things I have to do before everyone gets home in the next hour or two. Hopefully in addition to more snippets this week, you will get some sneek peeks at the magazine progress, as well as some looks into the compendium and how it is going to be designed! Again, I’m not sure when I am going to release it. The biographies alone contain soooo many spoilers. Maybe I need two volumes? :p

Your most adored,

C.N.F.

Compendium Compiling

Hello my darlings,

So, I am avoiding work at the moment – which means I SHOULD be doing several things. I should be…

Compiling material for my Dragoloth compendium
Writing “The Hollow Living”
Looking at a monologue that I will have to have memorized by Saturday
Answering emails

That’s about it. But isn’t that enough?

But I took a picture of Pharun’s bitch face! It was totally worth it!

You have no idea how tempted I am to put that bitchy snarl on the cover of the this compendium.

At any rate… I don’t have much experience with compendiums, personally, so I have no idea how they are generally laid out. Are they typically in alphabetical order? Are they divided into sections? What do YOU think would be easiest to navigate? Any feedback would be appreciated. My idea was to divide up the sections by like, country, characters, religion, etc, and then have the sub-sections, particularly when it comes to the families. I was thinking of having a section for Mahtrador, a section for Ercole, etc. Then there would be history, and lineage, the language, etc…. I have no idea when my “release date” for this project would be. I am focusing primarily on The Hollow Living… but I have so much of this information and material lying around (and it has been around *forever*) that I would love to have some idea of how to start pulling it together.

In other news, The Heretic Priest is doing well for its first free promotion. I was hoping it would pull up The Dragon’s Disciples sales with it, but so far no quite. Although hopefully that is indicative of returning fans who ALREADY own the first book and are happy to devour the second. A guy can dream – yeah?

I will return later, hopefully with your well-deserved daily snippet from The Hollow Living.

Your most adored,

C.N.F.

Olympia Sample Day

Hello my darlings,

What is the crabbiest, most hostile day of the week? Monday. Who is the crabbiest, most hostile woman in the entire book series of The Age of Waking Death? Olympia Ondine Mahtrador.

That being said, Mondays are officially Olympia days.

Enjoy your snippet! Happy Monday.

Your most adored,

C.N.F.

Princess Olympia Ondine Mahtrador. (rendered in http://www.heromachine.com)

 

The Hollow Living (sample)

Copyright Sarah Carraway 

 

Encarz felt his lips give way to a thin smile at this sight of his latest pride and joy.

He stood to greet his daughter. Olympia slid into his arms and allowed herself to be embraced. She had blossomed into the pinnacle of womanhood seemingly overnight. Encarz took a moment to study her, soaking in every detail from the serene set of her lips and the guarded expression in her eyes to the way her hair had been styled with the curls tamed and pinned elaborately on top of her head; the way it was worn by married women. He wondered at what point in his life had he looked away and missed her growing up.

“Daughter,” he said. “It’s good to see you looking well.”

“Very well, I assure you.” She smiled. “I brought the twins.”

“Let me see them,” Encarz turned towards his grandchildren, eager for his hands to be the first of a man’s they felt. Olympia walked over to one of the handmaidens and lifted a baby from her arms. The handmaiden backed away into obscurity and Olympia turned to her father, offering him the child.

“This one,” she said proudly. “Is Anthony.” She lowered the tightly swaddled bundle into Encarz’s arms, and as soon as contact was made he could have sworn his heart stopped.

He looked down at the bundle and noticed a shiny new pair of Mahtrador purple eyes gazing up at him from underneath an airy pile of fine black hair. Of course his grandson would have been born with a full head of hair.

“Anthony,” he tasted the name for the first time. He found that he liked it well enough.

“Encarz Anthony,” Olympia said.

“I like that a little better,” Encarz cradled the baby in the crook of his arm while stroking one of its soft, full cheeks. “He has the family eyes.”

“He looks like his father,” Olympia sighed.

“He looks his like his grandfather.” Encarz turned away from his daughter as if he were never going to give her child back and continued to coo over him. Olympia rolled her eyes and turned to the other handmaiden, lifting the second baby from her arms and waving her away. Anthony’s twin had come into the world screaming and hadn’t stopped since, until now. This was the first day Olympia had been able to look down on her second son without seeing his toothless mouth stretched as wide as possible in an ear-piercing screaming. As a result of his caprice, the nurses had neglected to wrap him up as tightly as his brother. The swaddling cloth had come loose and was hanging around his shoulders while his tiny fists waved wily-nilly in the air. His face was covered in self-afflicted livid red scratches that were the product of his sharp little nails.

“Crazy little thing,” Olympia muttered, pulling the cloth up over him and hoping to restrain him. He paused in his gurgling and stared at her, silently, as if daring her to touch him again. She wasn’t eager to hear him cry again, so she let it go.

“I’m glad you came to see me,” Encarz said at last, turning to face her again. “Nisroch was here and I am about to lose my mind.”

“You put him in charge of the army,” Olympia reminded him.

“You should know by now that my ability to make decisions has been severely hampered, as of late.”

“Is that age speaking, father?” she teased him.

“If so, we are all doomed.” He looked down at Anthony. “I’m not even that old, am I? No, I am not.”

“He’s old,” Olympia whispered into her second son’s ear. He responded by scratching her face, catching her chin as she pulled away.

“He suggested I go to Drakkian Province for more men,” Encarz continued, knowing she couldn’t really understand, but he needed someone to bounce his thoughts off of.

“Drakkian Province,” she said absentmindedly. “I thought they were no longer under our rule?”

“They are not,” Encarz sighed. “That is what makes things so godsdamned difficult.”

“Do you think they will help us?” she asked.

Encarz’s forehead wrinkled. “I don’t know. All I know is that I won’t be caught begging to Cyrano Ercole.”

“We all have to make sacrifices,” Olympia said sternly. “And no one said you had to beg.”

Encarz gave her a sharp look, but she lifted her chin stubbornly. It didn’t help that she was right.

Olympia adjusted her second son in her arms so she could reach out and touch her father’s hand. He used his free hand to grasp her fingers and squeezed them, hard.

“What is that one’s name?” he asked, nodding towards the second baby.

“Athos,” she said. Athos gurgled at the sight of his grandfather and reached out into the air, unclenching his fist and waving his open hand around wildly, cooing and hoping for some attention.

Encarz pulled away and looked back down at Anthony, unable to help comparing the two.

“We all make sacrifices,” Olympia said again. “My sacrifice gave way to my greatest gift. Now I have two beautiful children who are your assurance that you will win this war.”

Encarz thinned his lips. “I have faith in Azrael,”

“And that,” Olympia agreed, “is all one needs.”

 

The Heretic Priest early release celebration sale!

Hello my darlings,

Great news!

For the duration of the summer, The Dragon’s Disciples will be available on Kindle for $1.99 ! Don’t have a Kindle? The paperback is only $9.99 ! Did I mention it is ever so beautiful?

BUT THAT IS NOT ALL.

Tuesday and Wednesday, The Heretic Priest (that would be The Age of Waking Death series book TWO!!) will be having an early release celebration sale to the tune of completely free on Kindle. But it is only for Tuesday and Wednesday (because random!) so be sure to grab your copy while you can. Again, no Kindle? Well, the paperback is only $7.99! Not bad for a new release!

Both books for less than $2.00, and endless amounts of intrigue, love, and sexy vampires? Yes please!!

Your most adored,

C.N.F.

Sometimes I Wonder…

Hello my darlings,

This is going to be one of those posts. And just to go ahead and alleviate any gloominess I am about to dump on your heads, here is Pharun (looking fabulous today) to make you smile.

Pharun Hephaistion Mahtrador (rendered in http://www.heromachine.com)

This post, I fear, is mostly mopey in nature. And I suppose every writer has one of those “down” days (I like to think even Stephen King has them every now and again) where they sit at their desk and while they are playing around with WordPress and Facebook they get smashed in the face with a crushing depression leaving them wondering, “Am I a good writer?”

I know I’m a good character-mother. I highly doubt there is any author more devoted to their characters (though I am sure some writers would love to step up to the plate and challenge me on that claim) as I, or anyone who talks to them quite as much, or thinks about them as I do. I have drawn, rendered, and written for them almost my entire life. I have watched them evolve, I have cried over them, I have formed and broken friendships through them, I have watched them marry, I have watched them reproduce (not like that you pervert!) (…well maybe sometimes) and I have watched them die horrifically unfair deaths. I live in Dragoloth and I’m not embarrassed to say it. But I know that none of that necessarily makes me a good author.

And then, does it really matter? I am going to keep writing no matter what. I have a series to finish and it’s not going to go away any time soon. I suspect that after my death my children will be able to keep the flow going, simply because the Mahtradors refuse to die out (Pharun alone has lasted long past his prime). And I don’t mean to sound so down-in-the-dumps. There are days, however, when I have considered taking all of my books off the ‘net and living off the grid in Montana, just typing happily away and keeping my stories for only myself and those who genuinely expressed an interest in them. But then, I’ve tried that route, and it never gave me fulfillment. For some reason, having my book sitting on bookshelves and residing in Kindles has given me a sense of purpose. And as long as there is a single person out there who gets as involved in my world as I do, and who loves it just as much, then my mission is accomplished, and I really am a good writer. At least to them, and to myself.

I imagine a good author is someone who, no matter the circumstance, will always be able to write and to share with someone, and then allow that world and the characters to seduce the reader and enchant them and make them want to write you emails and have quaint cups of coffee in a small time cafe. And they will come to all of your book signings and will be disappointed when your world tour never kicks off.

So here is to you, fan, and to all of the blossoms in my garden who make my life worth living. As long as you keep reading, I will write for you.

Your most adored,

C.N.F.

Happy (Encarz snippet) Father’s Day!

King Encarz Priam Mahtrador
(rendered in http://www.heromachine.com)

The Hollow Living (sample)

Copyright Sarah Carraway

 

The guard had fallen behind. Encarz noticed this but said nothing to Cyrano, whose own guard had fallen behind as well. Encarz was angry at this, considering he had spent three straight days lecturing the captain of the guard on how to do his job. Encarz had expressly warned the man – saying that if he didn’t do his job and arrange a competent guard, then it was his head on a gatepost. Apparently, he hadn’t done an adequate job. He reminded himself that next time he would just start by slicing off fingers.

If Cyrano noticed the guard’s absence, he didn’t say anything. He simply busied himself with talking about affairs back home, how the crops of his province were doing, how the peasants and merchants were thriving in the hard economical time – but mostly he spoke of his family, particularly of his sister. Encarz knew he should be listening, but he couldn’t bring himself to be distracted. He was simply too aware of the sudden silence of the bowl-shaped valley. His eyes scanned the dark pine trees that lined the edge of the bowl suspiciously. With each unnatural rustle, every twig that snapped, he became more and more edgy.

“What is it?” Cyrano asked at last, when Encarz stopped altogether and was leaning forward in his saddle, hands gripping the horn. Encarz ignored him, keeping his head tilted at an angle, the chill winter wind stirring his snowy white hair and dragging it across his pale face.

“We’re being followed,” Encarz said finally, in a breath.

“The guard…?” Cyrano asked slowly. Encarz shook his head.

“No, not the guard. We lost the guard a while back.” Encarz righted himself in the saddle, and his hand went to the sword hanging by his side. It was less than comfortable, but he refused to travel anywhere unarmed.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” Cyrano demanded, drawing his own twin daggers from his boots. Unfortunately, this move cost him his reins, as he had to release them to get a good hold on the hilts of his daggers.

“I didn’t think you were listening,” Encarz answered innocently, glancing around the space of glistening white earth.

Then they came. Five or six of them from all directions, pouring in from the surrounding pine trees and sliding down the shallow sides of the valley with uncanny speed. They came silently. Encarz swore and sheathed his sword immediately, grabbing up the reins of his horse. He had faced such odds more than once in battle, but that was when he had to. This time, he didn’t have to.

Hoping Cyrano made it, Encarz dug his heels into the side of his mount and took off down the length of valley. Snow flew beneath his horse’s hooves, scattering left and right in a cloud of white. The midnight black Friesian was like a spot of ink against the white. Encarz licked his chapped lips and leaned in closer against his horse’s neck. He couldn’t see whether or not he was being pursued, but common sense told him that he was. Then finally, another horse – a dappled gray – appeared beside his. He couldn’t make out more than the rider’s silhouette. Another pulled up beside him mounted on a bay, and both began to close on him as if they meant to squeeze him off his mount. Encarz ground his teeth together and pulled on the reins, bringing his mount to a very abrupt halt. Before his attackers could copy the motion, Encarz slipped down from the saddle and grabbed his sword, turning to face them. There was a bloodlust in his eyes that hadn’t been there since his days of war, when they blazed with a hungry all-consuming fire.

The assassins dismounted quickly, and in the darkness they drew their own swords. Encarz grabbed the leather-wrapped hilt of his sword and crouched down into a fighting stance. He lashed out almost immediately, and the first one fell to the ground, screaming and writhing. Blood and entrails spilled out onto the ground, the blood spreading in a syrupy dark pool in the icy snow. The other attacker paused at the sound of his fallen companion’s screams, and lost himself in the darkness. Stumbling about, he brought his sword down hard in Encarz’s direction. Encarz deflected the blow easily with his sword. The impact of colliding metal rattled his hand, but he managed to bring it down to slice off the man’s shoulder. Crimson blood sprayed from the stump and the man fell to the ground. Placing the tip of his sword to the man’s chest, Encarz shoved, and finished him on the spot.

Backing away from the two corpses, Encarz observed them in disgust. He was more curious as to what had happened to his guard, and exactly who had sent these men. He had a feeling he was going to know both very soon.

Cyrano came riding up behind him. His riding tunic and the front of his pants were soaked in blood. He dismounted from his horse with a wet slide and made his way painfully over to Encarz. “Your majesty-?”

Encarz turned slowly and regarded Cyrano with a calm, cool expression. “I am a live, Cyrano.”

“I had three of them,” Cyrano said, obviously relieved. He touched Encarz’s shoulder just to be sure he was really there.

“Two,” Encarz said, looking down once more at the corpses, and then back up at Cyrano. “Not very clever of you, baron, to send assassins dressed in your livery, so that they might be identified immediately.”

Shock spread across Cyrano’s face, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you accusing me of … attempting to … murder you?”

“Why not?” Encarz asked. “You were the one who suggested a ride. You chose the path. The corpses bear your symbol.”

“Can you honestly believe that?” Cyrano snapped, drawing back from his majesty.

“Can I honestly afford not to?” Encarz asked, his voice nearly a whisper. Cyrano stared at him. The king was standing in the middle of blood and snow. The skirmish hadn’t even caused him to break a sweat. His white hair stirred in the wind, his hands clenched the pommel of his sword, the tip of which was resting against the ground. His sharp, cruel face was completely devoid of all expression.

Cyrano considered his options. He could run, of course, but he wouldn’t get very far. They would find him, and they would arrest him. He could kill Encarz, but there was no point in that. Besides, that would be something of counter-productive. He hadn’t driven three would-be assassins into the snow because he had felt like it.

“Very well,” Cyrano said at last, resigned. “I am under arrest?”

Encarz nodded, and sheathed his sword, lifting himself up into his saddle with ease. Cyrano pressed his lips together and followed suit, gathering the rein up in his hands and looking at his friend, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.

Without saying a word, without even looking at the baron, Encarz spurred his horse towards Castle Dragoloth.

 

Father’s Day Weekend – The Hollow Living sample

Hello my darlings,

So, father’s day is just around the corner. While not one of my favorite Hallmark holidays in real life it is definitely a fun one around the house because if there is one thing my boys know – it is crippling Daddy issues.

That being said, I would like to do a character interview tomorrow with Encarz – so be sure to comment and have some questions to throw at him! Don’t make me come up with all of them by myself. :p It will be his weekend, so today you will get a sample chapter featuring his majesty, and tomorrow will be his interview. This is what he gets for being the oldest man with the most children in the house at this moment. He is eyeing his opposite at the moment (Cyrano Ercole, whom you are about to meet) but I have to keep reminding him that Cyrano only has one child and he has five or six.

So to kick off Father’s day weekend, here is a sample from The Hollow Living. Enjoy, my darlings!

Your most adored,

C.N.F.

Sample from The Hollow Living

Copyright Sarah Carraway 2010-2013

When Encarz entered the dining hall, he did not see everyone rise for his presence. It was only out of habit did he wave after a moment or two for them to be seated and eat. All he saw was Adriel sitting amongst his hated enemy’s set, with Baron Castlemaine’s hand on his.

When he turned away, he did not see Castlemaine’s hand get impaled with a sleek dagger. The man’s scream also did not rise above the chatter of the rest of the room.

Encarz seated himself moodily at the head of the table, gesturing sharply for Cyrano to move a seat closer to him. Cyrano did so gladly, gingerly dismissed himself from the rambling Duke’s presence. As the baron settled down next to Encarz, he did not miss the look in the king’s eyes.

“Good morning, your majesty, I trust you slept well-“

“What is your nephew doing?” Encarz snapped.

Cyrano blinked, and then sighed, picking up a new goblet that was in front of him and filling it to the brim with wine. “I don’t know. Castlemaine came and picked him up a few moments before your timely entry.”

“I thought you warned him about associating with Cavalla’s set,” Encarz said darkly.

“I did,” Cyrano insisted.

“Warn him again,” Encarz said. He did not touch the food on his plate. His guests could not know that eating any of it would turn his stomach and allow him to retch it up again in a matter of hours. He would have to dine later, in private, on a slave more than likely. “I do not wish for him to – for your good name to be sullied by the company of vagabonds.”

Cyrano’s mouth twitched, but he did not allow himself to smile. “As you wish, your majesty.”

Cyrano busied himself for the next few minutes eating. Encarz slipped into a brooding silence, and did not allow himself to be addressed, not even by the servant who was prodding him wearily for permission to bring about the second course. Eventually, they cleared away the dishes and brought it out anyway.

“Your majesty looks tired,” Cyrano pointed out.

“I am,” Encarz admitted.

“A long night last night?”

“Made longer by the visiting ambassador, who insisted upon an audience.” Encarz rubbed his face. “If it weren’t such bad form to kill an ambassador, that one would be dead.”

Cyrano nodded, and he caught Encarz’s gaze wandering again to Adriel. “Does he please you, my lord?”

“What?” Encarz asked, snapping out his reverie.

“My nephew. Is he pleasing to your eye?”

“He annoys me,” Encarz snorted.

“He is the pride and joy of our family,” Cyrano sighed. “Nerissa is quite pleased with him.”

“Azrael save the future generations of Ercole, then,” Encarz quipped.

A wry smile twisted Cyrano’s lips. “With our luck, Adriel – and not Austric – will live to carry on the family name.”

“With your luck, baron, Adriel will lose his life to a thankless war and die choking on his own blood, and you will have no one but Austric to supply you the heirs you need.”

“This is true,” Cyrano admitted. “Do not curse me.”

Encarz laughed dryly. “I wouldn’t dream of allowing my fate to affect yours, Cyrano.”

They spent the next few moments talking idly of their disappointing children, commiserating on how much hope they had held out and how their dreams were now long dead. Encarz admitted that his only hope was in the promise of grandchildren. Cyrano admitted likewise.

“We should ride tonight, you and I,” Cyrano said after a lull. “We haven’t gone riding in a long time, and I think it would do both of us some good to get some fresh air.”

“I think I should like that,” Encarz said. “I haven’t been riding for pleasure since I was a youth.”

“An hour after sundown, then?” Cyrano suggested. “That should give us sufficient time to be rested from last night’s activities.”

“Indeed, I intend to sleep the rest of this day through and not wake up unless someone is dying.” Encarz rubbed his face. Cyrano chuckled.

“I don’t blame you. I hadn’t intended to get up until Monday. Adriel was insistent, however, and refused to attend breakfast alone and leave me to shirk my social duties.”

“I would hardly call this a duty,” Encarz glanced around the room. “There are few souls here, and those who are here aren’t awake.”

Cyrano looked around to observe for himself. “Except for Cavalla’s set,” he pointed out mildly.

Encarz’s eyes sharpened. “I hate Cavalla,” he said.

“Why, because he’s trying to snatch your throne out from under you?” Cyrano asked dryly.

“No,” Encarz replied, shooting Cyrano a look. “That’s nothing new. I just don’t appreciate his type. He is the sort of man who gets under my skin.”

“And not in the good way,” Cyrano added with a lascivious grin.

“I am beginning to see the family resemblance,” Encarz said.

“It’s a small wonder you didn’t catch on after all these years,” Cyrano added, the grin vanishing.

“Not for your lack of trying, I’m sure.” Encarz dumped his folded linen napkin on his plate and stood. The company stood as well, or what half was awake enough to pay attention, and Cyrano bowed as Encarz made his way towards the double doors.

“Eight o’ clock, just after sunset?” Cyrano called as Encarz exited.

Encarz paused. “Eight o’ clock,” he said, and vanished into the hallway.

Gods of Flesh by Mark T. Shaw – a fresh face in poetry

  Hello my darlings!

I am here doing a shameless promotional post for Mark T. Shaw (whose blog can be found HERE). His new book of poetry, entitled Gods of Flesh, is going to be out on Amazon for Kindle and in paperback tomorrow. Gods of Flesh is a powerful work. If you like poetry that deals with the violence, abuse, and pain aspects of relationships just as much as the romance, love, and sex – then this is a perfect read for you. There is also a Greek mythology theme that prevails heavily throughout the work. Thus the title “Gods of Flesh”.

Also, whoever purchases the paperback copy of Gods of Flesh (and can show me a proof of purchase, even if it just a screenshot of the receipt) between now and July 8th will receive a free eBook copy of The Heretic Priest!

Check out Gods of Flesh on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18073034-gods-of-flesh and add it to your “To read” pile today!! It is well worth your while.

Your most adored,

C.N.F.