The Rebel - by L.G.A. McIntyre
THE REBEL - by L.G.A. McIntyre
Book 2, Lies of Lesser Gods
There are events that resonate with the thunderous crash of portents. They seep into stone and bone, and halt time for a schismatic shift of perceptions and of ideals; an historical pivot.
All that comes after can trace its origin back to that nexus. It is the breeder of regrets and laments of if only. It is the path running off a cliff that cannot be seen until the rock crumbles beneath imprudent feet, and it is too late to take it back, to leap towards safety.
Sometimes, a site will forever resound from such presages; a deafening aftermath that echoes in the thick pounding of hearts, in the slick sweat on palms, and in the flicker of movement caught in the corner of an eye. This is the maker of ghosts upon ancient battlefields.
In the end, perhaps, it is naught but fate’s loom anchoring itself for a new design; that the sun should continue to rise and set, and the moon to wax and wane, and that mankind should ruin themselves in the pursuit of destiny. Sometimes the storm can start within the beat of an eagle’s wings, sometimes within an imprudent kiss.
Coming - August 2014
Book 2, Lies of Lesser Gods
There are events that resonate with the thunderous crash of portents. They seep into stone and bone, and halt time for a schismatic shift of perceptions and of ideals; an historical pivot.
All that comes after can trace its origin back to that nexus. It is the breeder of regrets and laments of if only. It is the path running off a cliff that cannot be seen until the rock crumbles beneath imprudent feet, and it is too late to take it back, to leap towards safety.
Sometimes, a site will forever resound from such presages; a deafening aftermath that echoes in the thick pounding of hearts, in the slick sweat on palms, and in the flicker of movement caught in the corner of an eye. This is the maker of ghosts upon ancient battlefields.
In the end, perhaps, it is naught but fate’s loom anchoring itself for a new design; that the sun should continue to rise and set, and the moon to wax and wane, and that mankind should ruin themselves in the pursuit of destiny. Sometimes the storm can start within the beat of an eagle’s wings, sometimes within an imprudent kiss.
Coming - August 2014
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