Author's e-books - fantasy. Page - 3
Do you know there is an easy way to escape all of your fears and pain and hurt in life? Well there is. For Jimmy, a young boy terrified by tidal waves and taken away from his home by a man who claims to love him like a brother, the escape from such terrifying events comes from a power that was within him all the time. The problem, however, is Jimmy has to face the nightmares of death before being saved by the dreams of life. Does he dare fall asleep?
Rud lives in a small area of Ménflark, also known as the cursed land. He thought his life would end like it began; alone.
He couldn't be more wrong...
Much to Alathis' relief, he found the training room empty. He'd thought so; it was six in the evening, so most neophytes were busy with study.
Alathis ignored the training dummies lining the left wall and the wooden weapons on the right while attempting to avert his attention from the large mirror in the north. Weapons of every type hung there, from daggers to double-headed two-handed axes. In the first few years, every neophyte was encouraged to practise with all weapons. First, to learn how to wield, so if they fought an enemy who used one, they knew how to fight it. Second to choose which one to specialise. Alathis had fallen in love with the long sword almost straight away. It wasn't too heavy or too short. It could stab and slice. Its hilt and cross-guard could be used as weapons if needs must and wielded with one or two hands. In short, it was adaptable, practical. But above all else, there was certain artistry, freedom to the long sword. It could be wielded like a curved cutting blade or even a specialist stabbing blade such as a rapier.
Faster than even his eye could follow, Alathis drew his sword and was in a ready stance. Then he launched into it. His every technique, his every step, every cut, stab and parry were perfect. He'd perform a, a downward vertical strike or any other, then the appropriate dodge, block or dart. Then counter. It was called shadow swordplay. He did it by instinct, with no rhyme or reason. It emptied his mind, forced the fear anyway — the anxiety.
They'd been taught meditation from a young age. It'd never worked for Alathis: Sitting and humming couldn't calm his forever busy mind. But swinging a sword or punching and kicking the air, did. Alathis wasn't as naive as most of the other acolytes; he knew Hunters were, for all intents and purposes, assassins. And he knew he had to be a damn good one to live even a year of his apprenticeship. That's if he managed to survive the Ritual somehow.
He was so lost in his training he failed to notice the vampire enter the room.
'Neophyte Alathis.'
Alathis leapt so high he almost hit the ceiling and turned to find Kolmath approaching. The once-elf vampire's face was unreadable, her hands behind her back. She was tall for an elf: around 1.77 metres. Like all her kin, she was long-limbed, graceful. She wore plain white robes like all other teachers. Her skin just as inhumanly stark as her robes. She stared at him with large, dark green eyes and her long grey hair pulled back into a bun. She was beautiful, even for an elf she. It almost made him forget his ingrained instinct at recognising the wrongness vampires exuded.
'Teacher,' said Alathis.
Kolmath waved dismissal at Alathis' formality and approached the wall of weapons.
'Karetil came to me,' she said. 'He's concerned about you.'
'He is?'
'Indeed,' she said and reached to touch a broad sword. 'You underestimate him, I think. He may act childish, but he has every bit the same training at reading people like you.'
Alathis didn't reply, he just cut the air, first horizontally, then upward diagonally.
'You know, when you first came to the coven, I was not sure what to make of you,' said Kolmath, while running her long, slender fingers along the haft of a great axe. 'You were so sullen, sulky you more so than the other survivors of the attack. I understood why, after talking with Telric.'
Alathis treated her with his most murderous glare. 'I don't want to talk about that, teacher.'
Kolmath turned to him. 'You will have to, Alathis. One day. What you went through, what you had to do, is something even the hardiest of us would find hard to cope with. It might be a good idea to speak of it before going through the Ritual.'
Alathis couldn't help flinching at her mention of The Ritual.
'Ah. So you are afraid,' said Kolmath as she took a small axe and tested its weight. 'Do not be ashamed; it is only natural.'
She swung it a few times, but the swings were so fast Alathis couldn't count them.
'Every neophyte in your position is afraid before the Ritual.'
'Well, except Karetil,' said Alathis.
'He, too, is afraid, young Alathis,' said Kolmath. 'Again, you underestimate your friend, he is just far better at hiding it. Or you might be overestimating him, from a certain point of view.'
Alathis swallowed. 'I don't want to die.'
'Everything dies,' said Kolmath. 'Even Hunters, even vampires, even the Jaroai. It is nothing to fear. It is just nothingness.'
'But-'
'You can back out,' Kolmath interrupted, but without anger or condescension. 'Stay here a
William Cain. A young photographer with extreme promise in the advertising industry has taken an assignment deep in the swamps of Southeast Georgia. While dreaming of how he will one day become partner in his firm of Burgundy and Lace Publishing, William wants nothing but to keep his eight year-old son Rocco and the boy's well-being at the pinnacle of any success that may come William's way; even to the point of leaving everything he has ever known behind, just to ensure that Rocco will grow without the obstacles that William faced while living into his own potential.
Several millenium have passed since the humans all but wiped themselves out with world wide war, luckily the extinction threat level was reduced by the human decision to launch nukes across the globe and only hitting targets of highest human population counts, leaving animals to roam freely amongst the rubble.
This is a sweet little tale. It's nice someone is writing a genuinely heart-warming story, as sometimes, that is exactly what children need.-A review from Lisa C. Hinsley, writer of horror and mystery novels.
Jen Tate the girl who is torn between Oblivion and mortalis. Oblivion the demon world and mortalis our world we humans. Jen is a lost girl. tough as a bear she works hard to save for her and her boyfriend Luis who mysteriously dissapears with a monster. Jen also at the verge of death is found by scrige a gargole demon who turns into a rock. He helps save Luis and shows her who she really is.
Welcome to Gaiterra, a planet where the lives and fortunes of huemankind are dictated by the actions of the strong. The long standing peaceful balance between Gods, Demons and powerful nations is about to be upset.
Mwamba is the son of the chief in his village. He is intended to marry so that he can take over the chiefdom, but a kidnapping of his future bride interrupts his plan. Mwamba soon embarks on a journey to save his future wife.
Do you know there is an easy way to escape all of your fears and pain and hurt in life? Well there is. For Jimmy, a young boy terrified by tidal waves and taken away from his home by a man who claims to love him like a brother, the escape from such terrifying events comes from a power that was within him all the time. The problem, however, is Jimmy has to face the nightmares of death before being saved by the dreams of life. Does he dare fall asleep?
Rud lives in a small area of Ménflark, also known as the cursed land. He thought his life would end like it began; alone.
He couldn't be more wrong...
Much to Alathis' relief, he found the training room empty. He'd thought so; it was six in the evening, so most neophytes were busy with study.
Alathis ignored the training dummies lining the left wall and the wooden weapons on the right while attempting to avert his attention from the large mirror in the north. Weapons of every type hung there, from daggers to double-headed two-handed axes. In the first few years, every neophyte was encouraged to practise with all weapons. First, to learn how to wield, so if they fought an enemy who used one, they knew how to fight it. Second to choose which one to specialise. Alathis had fallen in love with the long sword almost straight away. It wasn't too heavy or too short. It could stab and slice. Its hilt and cross-guard could be used as weapons if needs must and wielded with one or two hands. In short, it was adaptable, practical. But above all else, there was certain artistry, freedom to the long sword. It could be wielded like a curved cutting blade or even a specialist stabbing blade such as a rapier.
Faster than even his eye could follow, Alathis drew his sword and was in a ready stance. Then he launched into it. His every technique, his every step, every cut, stab and parry were perfect. He'd perform a, a downward vertical strike or any other, then the appropriate dodge, block or dart. Then counter. It was called shadow swordplay. He did it by instinct, with no rhyme or reason. It emptied his mind, forced the fear anyway — the anxiety.
They'd been taught meditation from a young age. It'd never worked for Alathis: Sitting and humming couldn't calm his forever busy mind. But swinging a sword or punching and kicking the air, did. Alathis wasn't as naive as most of the other acolytes; he knew Hunters were, for all intents and purposes, assassins. And he knew he had to be a damn good one to live even a year of his apprenticeship. That's if he managed to survive the Ritual somehow.
He was so lost in his training he failed to notice the vampire enter the room.
'Neophyte Alathis.'
Alathis leapt so high he almost hit the ceiling and turned to find Kolmath approaching. The once-elf vampire's face was unreadable, her hands behind her back. She was tall for an elf: around 1.77 metres. Like all her kin, she was long-limbed, graceful. She wore plain white robes like all other teachers. Her skin just as inhumanly stark as her robes. She stared at him with large, dark green eyes and her long grey hair pulled back into a bun. She was beautiful, even for an elf she. It almost made him forget his ingrained instinct at recognising the wrongness vampires exuded.
'Teacher,' said Alathis.
Kolmath waved dismissal at Alathis' formality and approached the wall of weapons.
'Karetil came to me,' she said. 'He's concerned about you.'
'He is?'
'Indeed,' she said and reached to touch a broad sword. 'You underestimate him, I think. He may act childish, but he has every bit the same training at reading people like you.'
Alathis didn't reply, he just cut the air, first horizontally, then upward diagonally.
'You know, when you first came to the coven, I was not sure what to make of you,' said Kolmath, while running her long, slender fingers along the haft of a great axe. 'You were so sullen, sulky you more so than the other survivors of the attack. I understood why, after talking with Telric.'
Alathis treated her with his most murderous glare. 'I don't want to talk about that, teacher.'
Kolmath turned to him. 'You will have to, Alathis. One day. What you went through, what you had to do, is something even the hardiest of us would find hard to cope with. It might be a good idea to speak of it before going through the Ritual.'
Alathis couldn't help flinching at her mention of The Ritual.
'Ah. So you are afraid,' said Kolmath as she took a small axe and tested its weight. 'Do not be ashamed; it is only natural.'
She swung it a few times, but the swings were so fast Alathis couldn't count them.
'Every neophyte in your position is afraid before the Ritual.'
'Well, except Karetil,' said Alathis.
'He, too, is afraid, young Alathis,' said Kolmath. 'Again, you underestimate your friend, he is just far better at hiding it. Or you might be overestimating him, from a certain point of view.'
Alathis swallowed. 'I don't want to die.'
'Everything dies,' said Kolmath. 'Even Hunters, even vampires, even the Jaroai. It is nothing to fear. It is just nothingness.'
'But-'
'You can back out,' Kolmath interrupted, but without anger or condescension. 'Stay here a
William Cain. A young photographer with extreme promise in the advertising industry has taken an assignment deep in the swamps of Southeast Georgia. While dreaming of how he will one day become partner in his firm of Burgundy and Lace Publishing, William wants nothing but to keep his eight year-old son Rocco and the boy's well-being at the pinnacle of any success that may come William's way; even to the point of leaving everything he has ever known behind, just to ensure that Rocco will grow without the obstacles that William faced while living into his own potential.
Several millenium have passed since the humans all but wiped themselves out with world wide war, luckily the extinction threat level was reduced by the human decision to launch nukes across the globe and only hitting targets of highest human population counts, leaving animals to roam freely amongst the rubble.
This is a sweet little tale. It's nice someone is writing a genuinely heart-warming story, as sometimes, that is exactly what children need.-A review from Lisa C. Hinsley, writer of horror and mystery novels.
Jen Tate the girl who is torn between Oblivion and mortalis. Oblivion the demon world and mortalis our world we humans. Jen is a lost girl. tough as a bear she works hard to save for her and her boyfriend Luis who mysteriously dissapears with a monster. Jen also at the verge of death is found by scrige a gargole demon who turns into a rock. He helps save Luis and shows her who she really is.
Welcome to Gaiterra, a planet where the lives and fortunes of huemankind are dictated by the actions of the strong. The long standing peaceful balance between Gods, Demons and powerful nations is about to be upset.
Mwamba is the son of the chief in his village. He is intended to marry so that he can take over the chiefdom, but a kidnapping of his future bride interrupts his plan. Mwamba soon embarks on a journey to save his future wife.