Category Archives: Giveaway

THE MERCHANT OF DREAMS

Mal leant over the ship’s rail, scanning the shore for any sign of a wreck. The mistral had swept the sky bare, leaving the coast etched in hard lines by the cold clear light of a January morn.

“There,” he said at last, pointing to a dark shape on the beach.

Coby joined him at the rail. “Are you sure it’s the skrayling carrack, sir? Those timbers could belong to any ship.”

“You still don’t believe me.”

“I—‘ Her head drooped, expression hidden by the hood of her cloak. “It’s been more than a year, sir. I thought…I thought all that was over.”

It’ll never be over, he wanted to tell her. Not whilst I have this thing inside me.

The ship tacked westwards, closer to the white sands. A rocky headland loomed to their left, the prevailing winds threatening to dash them onto its rocks as it had the ship they sought.… Read the rest

THE STRAITS OF GALAHESH

The akhoz galloped more than ran, their long limbs loping over the ground faster than it appeared they could. Their lips were drawn back, their dark tongues hidden behind blackened teeth, making them appear vengeful and ravenous.

Nasim’s sandals scraped over the ancient stone. His nerves willed him to flee. But he would not. This girl, this very girl, was the first of the akhoz. There was little that remained of Yadhan, but he recognized her by the shape and tilt of her head, her delicate features, and the small scar at the nape of her neck.

And he’d also felt in his memories that a connection had been made to each of the akhoz that Khamal had created. In the nights that followed, Khamal had gone on to perform the ritual again and again, sacrificing more and more children to the grisly fate that awaited them.… Read the rest

KNIFESWORN

Thrashing churned the water, white foam, tinged brown with river mud. Grada knelt on a broad stone bedded in the shoreline, her arms elbow deep, wringing as she had wrung out the robes of the wealthy many times before.

Muscles bunched across her shoulders. Jenna had always said she was strong. Ox-strong, head-strong.

Further out the river slid past, green-brown, placid. Somewhere a widderil called out its three-note song with all its heart.

They had come from the thickness of the pomegranate grove, two of them sticky with sweat, laying down their pruning hooks as they saw her. Both of them old enough for wives, young enough for wickedness, stripped to loincloth and sandals, white-orange blossom from the second crop clinging to their chests and arms. The men had angled Grada’s way as she walked in the shade at the margins, where trees gave way to the river road.… Read the rest

I’m not a talented writer; the words don’t gush from my mind onto the page. I have a tendency to bite off more than I can handle, so I wind up crafting my novels relentlessly, reading them, re-reading them, shaving a word here and adding a scene there.

The chapter that Justin is going to post here at Staffer’s Book Review is much like Guillermo, Diago, and Miquel in that it’s been through many incarnations. The chapter may have a few left to go before The Garden sees publication. I’m okay with that.

You’re going to meet Guillermo at the start of his journey. Portions of the chapter are graphic and there is profanity.

You’ve been warned.

Welcome to the Garden …

THE GARDEN

… Read the rest

AND BLUE SKIES FROM PAIN

“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Ned McCoy said, pulling a pistol from his pocket. Something in his voice said he almost regretted the request.

… Read the rest

THE TAINTED CITY

I wedged my fingers higher in the crack snaking up the boulder’s overhanging face. A push of a foot, a twist of my body, and the overhang’s lip was nearly within reach. Good thing, since I had to finish this little warm-up climb fast, or risk a whipping if the shift bell rang before I got to the mine. Dawn’s light already streaked the gorge rim far above me with gold, though it’d be mid-morning before the sun rose high enough to touch the reedy mudflats here in the gorge’s depths. Beyond my boulder, clumps of men in grime-streaked coveralls trudged toward the yawning black mouth at the base of the cliffs. Lights bobbed in jerky rhythms within the tunnel as the night haulers hurried to finish sacking their quota of coal.

“Spend one instant longer crawling up that rock instead of joining your crew, boy, and I’ll choke you blind.”

The torc around my neck heated in warning as overseer Gedavar spoke.… Read the rest

TRINITY RISING

It was almost Ninth when Sorchal ambled along the covered walk at the side of the practice yard, his coat over his shoulder and his shirt untucked. Gair turned from first position and propped his sword point-down in the dust in front of him, leaning on the pommel. This was the third time this week the Elethrainian had let him down.

‘Good afternoon,’ he said dryly.

Grinning, Sorchal swept him a florid bow. ‘Good morrow, sir Knight! Goddess’s blessings to you on this fine morning.’ He staggered as he straightened up, which rather spoiled the effect.

‘Are you still drunk?’

‘Very probably.’

Gair sighed. ‘I thought we were practising at half-Prime today.’

‘Ah, yes, about that.’ This time Sorchal looked genuinely contrite, ducking his head and scrubbing his fingers through his uncombed hair. A shadow of beard on cheeks and chin said he’d been out all night.… Read the rest