Hell Bound and Hell Hounds by Bestseller @WestonAndrew is a Must-Read #DarkFantasy Series!


 

Title: Hell Bound – Hell Hounds

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Dark Fantasy

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:
Hell Bound

In hell, none of the condemned believes they deserve to be there. And that’s fine, so long as they’re not foolish enough to try and do anything about it. For those that do, there’s always Satan’s Reaper–and chief bounty hunter–Daemon Grim.

 

Feared throughout the many layers of the underverse, no one in their right mind dares to cross him.

 

However, when Grim discovers that someone has attempted to evade injustice, and seems hell-bent on gaining access to ancient angelic artifacts, proscribed since the time of the original rebellion in heaven, circumstances point to the fact they may be doing just that.

 

The question is…why?

 

Thus begins an investigation that leads Grim throughout the many contradictory and baffling levels of the underworld, where he unearths a conspiracy that is not only eating its way like a cancer through the highest echelons of Hellion society, but one which threatens the very stability of Satan’s rule.

 

How does Daemon Grim Respond?

 

Rest assured. It’ll be bloody, brutal, and despicably wicked.

 

 

Hell Hounds

Feared throughout the many circles of the underworld, Satan’s Reaper – and chief bounty hunter – Daemon Grim, is known as a true force to be reckoned with.

 

Having eliminated a major player in the uprising eating its way like a cancer through the underbelly of hell, Grim is stunned to discover he cannot afford to rest on his laurels, for the rebellion runs far deeper than was ever imagined. New players have emerged – denizens with uncanny abilities – who seem determined to support Chopin and Tesla’s revolutionary agenda.

 

Ever keen to test their mettle, the Sibitti – personified weapons of the ancient Babylonian plague god, Erra – also appear eager to capitalize on the growing unrest, and set about maneuvering events in order to place themselves in direct opposition to Grim’s investigation.

 

And if that was not cause for concern enough, there’s an insane angel on the loose, a creature as hell-bent on creating havoc as he is to return home.

 

How do Grim and his rabid pack of bounty hunters respond?

 

Baying for blood – doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 

Excerpts:

Hell Bound –

Across the street, a small crowd of mobsters had just exited an old style ale house, and Lady Gemini became much more alert. Hunkering down into a small depression created by the collapse of a major sewer tunnel, she removed a long cylindrical pipe from one of her elongated thigh-flaps, and rummaged around in her breast pocket with the other hand.

 

I watched her movements with professional curiosity.

 

She hasn’t taken her eyes off them once. Now that’s the kind of attitude I want to see.

 

The group comprised two boss types—one a Gomez Adams wannabe, the other a startlingly accurate representation of what you would get if you stuffed a bulldog inside human flesh; a statutory retinue of muscle-bound, knuckle-dragging, brain-dead hoods; and a hulking great lawyer dripping mucus and blood with every step. His steaming name badge gleamed dully in the twilight, and identified him as Othello.

 

Scanning their auras, I doubted the combined IQs of the thugs would challenge the slime Othello left in his wake, so they were obviously there to look mean, grunt in single syllables, and take a bullet for their masters.

 

Which is what they’ll probably be doing a few seconds from now . . .

 

I adjusted the sensitivity of my sweeps and glanced back and forth between the two parties. The Godfather wake was oblivious to the danger. Gemini merely studied them from her place of concealment, and slowly raised the tube to her lips.

 

 

So who’s the mark?

Gemini’s heartbeat never wavered. Nor was there any discernible peak of excitement. If anything, her esoteric presence diminished until it was next to nothing.

 

She’s the proverbial ice queen. Detached, focused, professional.

 

Without warning, the air shimmered and Gemini winked out of sight.

 

A chameleon mesh? This should get interes-

 

No sooner had she disappeared than the undulating mass of hearse flies orbiting her proximity swooped away, and descended en masse upon the unfortunate gangsters. In moments, they were twisting and turning and waving their arms so furiously it looked as if they had suddenly decided to engage in a hip-hop dance off.

 

Is she doing that?

 

Strangled curses turned the air blue as overzealous insects began to bite.

 

One voice cried out louder than the others.

 

“Ow!”

 

Othello slapped the side of his filthy reptilian neck. He coughed, staggered, and reached out to support himself on the nearest boss. Mr. Gomez obviously didn’t like being touched—especially by a lawyer—for he swatted Othello’s hand away as if his illustrious hellegally qualified acquaintance was infected by the plague. Seconds later, Othello’s knees gave way and he crashed to the floor, whereupon his essence started to fade almost immediately.

 

The rest of the entourage took one look at the dissipating mist and starburst away from the scene in terror, closely followed by an inquisitive cloud of hungry buzzing friends.

 

Oh, very clever. She made it look like a simple acci- Eh?

 

By the time I looked back, Gemini had already slithered down from the mound and was halfway toward Westmonster Causeway.

 

Unholy cow but she’s fast. I had never seen her run before. I wonder how long she can keep it up?

 

I never found out. Reaching the banks of the river, Gemini kept going—straight as a die—leaped the shattered balustrade and jumped straight into the filthy waters of the Tombs without creating so much as a splash.

 

Hell Hounds –

Deep beneath the streets of Olde London Town, the brick-lined galleries of the main sewers resounded with the echoes of pursuit. Water splished and filth sploshed in time to erratic footfalls, and every now and then, each resonating burst of frenzied activity was punctuated by an interlude of hacking sobs as the terrified victim tried to catch both his breath and his bearings.

 

The endless chain of low wattage emergency beacons dotted along the apex of the tunnels stretched off into the distance. But their wan light did little to dispel the midnight embrace leaching into every nook and cranny, and if anything, only served to define the darkness into tighter clusters.

 

Isabella Castile slowed her pace and judged her prey’s progress.

 

It had been like this for more than an hour, ever since her quarry had discovered his second wind, in fact, and a determination to fight against the seeming inevitability of his situation.

 

Why Isabella had chosen this particular denizen, she didn’t know. Maybe the color of his hair, the cut of his pinstripe suit, the way he turned his nose up at those around him. None of it mattered now, for once started, she would continue the hunt until she had added his name to a growing list of damned souls who found themselves, at her behest, in dread repose upon the Undertaker’s slab.

 

His haphazard course through the maze was a clear indicator of the Blue Suit’s panic, and the notion that he would leave his fate to happenchance only spurred Isabella to greater efforts. That, and the sour aftertaste lacing his pheromone-ridden trail.

 

Isabella reached the latest in a long line of junctions. Pausing just long enough to taste the ether, she quickly determined his new route and set off with a fresh spring in her step and a deepening ache in her throat.

 

Not long now, my sweet. Not long.

 

A cruel smile stole its way across her lips.

 

Plunk!

 

The betraying splash tolled like a death knell in the dark.

 

Halting her advance, Isabella hugged the shadows along the far wall, and sang: “Can you hear what I hear?”

 

Her tuneful query elicited nothing but silence.

 

Creeping forward, she peered around the lip of a side shaft, her fingers testing the air like spider legs on a web. “And can you see what I see?”

 

A knife appeared in her hand where nothing had existed before. Then it was gone, traversing the fifty-foot gap in the blink of an eye.

 

A grunt coughed out of the gloom. Then a stifled curse. Moments later, the filthy waters slopping about Isabella’s feet turned crimson.

 

She stepped out into the scant illumination offered by a meager cone of light from the ceiling and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath.

 

“No, please. I’ll give you anything you want . . .” was all the Blue Suit managed to gasp before calamity fell upon him.

 

 

Buy Links:

Hell Bound –

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Hell-Bound-Heroes-Andrew-Weston-ebook/dp/B015G2AI0I

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Hell-Bound-Heroes-Andrew-Weston-ebook/dp/B015G2AI0I

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hell-Bound-Heroes-Andrew-Weston-ebook/dp/B015G2AI0I

 

Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hell-bound-andrew-p-weston/1122937633?ean=2940156681334

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26809332-hell-bound

 

Hell Hounds –

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hell-hounds-andrew-p-weston/1127314562?ean=2940158740053

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36472614-hell-hounds

 

 

Andrew Weston

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is a military and police veteran from the UK who now lives with a large amount of cats in a medium sized house on a small Greek island.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international #1 bestselling and critically acclaimed IX Series, and has the privilege of contributing to the Heroes in Hell shared universe.

 

Social Media Links:
Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andrewpaul.weston

 

 

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In Hell, We Reap What You Sow — Hell Hounds by @WestonAndrew #darkfantasy #books


hellhoundsfullcover

 

Title: Hell Hounds

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Dark Fantasy

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:

Feared throughout the many circles of the underworld, Satan’s Reaper – and chief bounty hunter – Daemon Grim, is known as a true force to be reckoned with.

 

Having eliminated a major player in the uprising eating its way like a cancer through the underbelly of hell, Grim is stunned to discover he cannot afford to rest on his laurels, for the rebellion runs far deeper than was ever imagined. New players have emerged – denizens with uncanny abilities – who seem determined to support Chopin and Tesla’s revolutionary agenda.

 

Ever keen to test their mettle, the Sibitti – personified weapons of the ancient Babylonian plague god, Erra – also appear eager to capitalize on the growing unrest, and set about maneuvering events in order to place themselves in direct opposition to Grim’s investigation.

 

And if that was not cause for concern enough, there’s an insane angel on the loose, a creature as hell-bent on creating havoc as he is to return home.

 

How do Grim and his rabid pack of bounty hunters respond?

 

Baying for blood – doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 

Excerpt

Deep beneath the streets of Olde London Town, the brick-lined galleries of the main sewers resounded with the echoes of pursuit. Water splished and filth sploshed in time to erratic footfalls, and every now and then, each resonating burst of frenzied activity was punctuated by an interlude of hacking sobs as the terrified victim tried to catch both his breath and his bearings.

 

The endless chain of low wattage emergency beacons dotted along the apex of the tunnels stretched off into the distance. But their wan light did little to dispel the midnight embrace leaching into every nook and cranny, and if anything, only served to define the darkness into tighter clusters.

 

Isabella Castile slowed her pace and judged her prey’s progress.

 

It had been like this for more than an hour, ever since her quarry had discovered his second wind, in fact, and a determination to fight against the seeming inevitability of his situation.

 

Why Isabella had chosen this particular denizen, she didn’t know. Maybe the color of his hair, the cut of his pinstripe suit, the way he turned his nose up at those around him. None of it mattered now, for once started, she would continue the hunt until she had added his name to a growing list of damned souls who found themselves, at her behest, in dread repose upon the Undertaker’s slab.

 

His haphazard course through the maze was a clear indicator of the Blue Suit’s panic, and the notion that he would leave his fate to happenchance only spurred Isabella to greater efforts. That, and the sour aftertaste lacing his pheromone-ridden trail.

 

Isabella reached the latest in a long line of junctions. Pausing just long enough to taste the ether, she quickly determined his new route and set off with a fresh spring in her step and a deepening ache in her throat.

 

Not long now, my sweet. Not long.

 

A cruel smile stole its way across her lips.

 

Plunk!

 

The betraying splash tolled like a death knell in the dark.

 

Halting her advance, Isabella hugged the shadows along the far wall, and sang: “Can you hear what I hear?”

 

Her tuneful query elicited nothing but silence.

 

Creeping forward, she peered around the lip of a side shaft, her fingers testing the air like spider legs on a web. “And can you see what I see?”

 

A knife appeared in her hand where nothing had existed before. Then it was gone, traversing the fifty-foot gap in the blink of an eye.

 

A grunt coughed out of the gloom. Then a stifled curse. Moments later, the filthy waters slopping about Isabella’s feet turned crimson.

 

She stepped out into the scant illumination offered by a meager cone of light from the ceiling and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath.

 

“No, please. I’ll give you anything you want . . .” was all the Blue Suit managed to gasp before calamity fell upon him.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hell-hounds-andrew-p-weston/1127314562?ean=2940158740053

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36472614-hell-hounds

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is a military and police veteran from the UK who now lives with a large amount of cats in a medium sized house on a small Greek island.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international #1 bestselling and critically acclaimed IX Series, and has the privilege of contributing to the Heroes in Hell shared universe.

 

Social Media Links:
Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andrewpaul.weston

 

 

 

Ritual of the Lost Lamb by @cyallowitz Delves into #DarkFantasy! #bookreview #fantasy #ASMSG


Ritual of the Lost Lamb

 

Title: Ritual of the Lost Lamb (Legends of Windemere Book 13)

Author: Charles E. Yallowitz

Genre: Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Dark Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

Death is a blessing that the Baron is not ready to bestow upon his precious guest.

 

In the aftermath of the Baron’s attack, Luke Callindor has disappeared and the only clue is a psychic scream of agony that Dariana cannot ignore. Fearing that a journey to Shayd will start their final battle before they are ready, the champions have devised another way to rescue their friend. With permission from the gods, Nyx has begun the long-sealed Ritual of the Lost Lamb. It is a complicated and exhausting spell, which is made even more difficult by a new enemy whose only goal is to make all of the Baron’s enemies suffer.

 

It is a race against time where every passing minute brings Luke Callindor one step closer to a fate worse than oblivion.

 

My Review:

A darkness has fallen on Windemere and even the gods and goddesses aren’t sure what to do. Heated debates ensue as one god pits against another while the Baron looks on gleefully. His rescue is almost at hand and he still has a few tricks up his sleeve. Luke Callindor is his prisoner and he intends to wreak as much pain and destruction as possible. How much can a champion take before he gives up the will to live?

 

Luke’s capture has fragmented the rest of the champions’ spirits as they know deep in their hearts that the final battle is coming and they need Luke’s leadership and strength if they have any hope of defeating the Baron. The group has one goal: rescue Luke using any means necessary. Nyx gathers what is needed to perform the ritual of the lost lamb with the help of the others. Dariana uses what psychic abilities she can to stave off a new enemy (thanks to her father, the Baron) but when the gods ask her to kill a family member, will she be able to or is this another test she’ll fail? Everyone’s lives are at risk in this dark installment of the Legends of Windemere, leading up to the final battle.

 

There’s a lot of darkness in this book but adds to the contrast between the Baron and the champions. While the Baron and his latest ally unleash death, destruction and pain on everything the champions hold dear, there’s a glimmer of hope. Each champion has the power to defeat the Baron and the only question remains: will they cross the line or will they die trying?

 

Brilliantly written, this is Yallowitz’s best book yet. He takes us deep into the bowels of darkness, thrusting the champions into unwinnable situations and we, the readers, get to witness it. The torture scenes with Luke were hard to read yet done with a subtlety I found refreshing. The new enemy (won’t say who it is because I don’t want to spoil it for you) gives new meaning to a demented evil creature. The ending was so well done, I applauded. I can’t wait for the final battle!

 

If you enjoy epic fantasy with a dark side, give this a read. It’s a stand alone (as is each of the books in the series) but I recommend reading the previous books first. Trust me on this.

 

Favorite Character/Quote: “They think eradicating evil is the way to save the world, but too much good could be just as dangerous. One can really only keep darkness at bay or you risk wasting the limited years that you have been given in complacency. After all, not all of us can ascend.”

 

My Rating: 5 stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Ritual-Lost-Lamb-Legends-Windemere-ebook/dp/B07145TX46/

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Ritual-Lost-Lamb-Legends-Windemere-ebook/dp/B07145TX46/

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ritual-Lost-Lamb-Legends-Windemere-ebook/dp/B07145TX46/

 

Goodreads  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35111861-ritual-of-the-lost-lamb

 

charles-yallowitz

 

Author Biography:

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

 

Social Media Links:

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com

 
Twitter: @cyallowitz

 
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz

 


Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

 

Book of the Broken: A Guest Post by Jesse Teller #darkfantasy #books #writing


chaste-cover4

 

On October 5, 2016, my book Chaste was unleashed upon the world, and I have come here to make peace with that, to find a way to ready myself for the onslaught of reviews and criticism it will receive, and in some way prepare myself for this beast being free to roam into the life of anyone who might be interested in it.

Chaste has a mind of its own, a mind dark and deviant, and it is my most terrifying creation to date. It scares me. It always has. It is too honest, too revealing to ever let anyone read it. It reveals all my secrets, and it will affect the reader. To what end, I do not know.

Chaste was written by a broken man. I wrote it in 2004. The four years before, I had delved into my past with a very intelligent, very capable therapist who was like a father to me. I had found a darkness that my mind could barely stand. I had found abuse in every form, abuse enough to bend and twist a man.

One day, I asked my therapist how bad it was. I had reached the point where I was beginning to think I was whining, that I was making things out to be worse than they ever could have been. I asked him how bad it was, and he picked up my file. By this point, his notes were grand enough to stand four inches thick, and he set it in front of me. He said these words:

“If I were to show this file to an FBI profiler, the question they would ask is, ‘How many? How many victims had this serial killer produced?’” He said he had never heard things like I was telling him. He said that it didn’t get any worse.

When you see evil, it gets in your bones. It was in mine. It was deep in me, and it had scarred me. It had stained me, and I never thought I would get that stain out. It had me in its grasp and I felt weakened by it, felt crushed under the weight of it.

I was in love and trying to make a life with a woman who cherished me. She knew it all, all the horror and the insanity, and she wanted me anyway. But I was stunted by the memories I had found, and I had no way of getting past it. Then I started writing Chaste.

I set out to write a fantasy novel. I had an idea. It was a simple thing, a concept that might take me through a whole book, might end after 50 pages. I didn’t know. I had never written a novel before. So I just got to work.

What came out of me was a horror fantasy.

There were broken characters. They were powerful and shiny, bright spots in the world, but they were locked up by shadows, past obsessions, and pain.

One of them mirrored my past in such a way that to write her was torture. She had suffered abuse and horror and had locked it away in her mind, as I had, for decades. She broke my heart and scared me more than a little.

There was a character on a quest for love. He was fighting to get to his love and had dedicated himself to being with her. But he had wars to fight before he could make it to her arms.

There was a deformed man, a man who had grown wrong. He hid himself from the world because he was a freak, and he was haunted by the things he would never be able to do, never be able to be.

They were all haunted and jaded. These, and many more, characters walked into a darkness that was all-consuming and fought to get free of it, to right it, to survive it.

When I wrote Chaste, I was insane. I was twisted and wrong, bent in a way that I could not see myself getting out of. I poured it all into that book—all my fury with God, all my loss and confusion, all my self-loathing and my pain. I put it all down, hammering out the worst I had, so that I might one day heal.

And heal I did. My woman and I built a world of happiness. We fought back all my demons and I found peace. I found love. I found hope.

Chaste is part of that healing. It is where I laid all the darkness. I thought I would never go back, thought I would never bring it out of its rough draft form. I would leave it unclean, a thing unfit, a beast dead and rotting that I would not bury.

Then a friend fell in love with it. I let her read it, and she adored it. She said it was her favorite book she had ever read, that it gave her hope, that it gave her peace. She said it had the power to heal, to bring people from the dark. She said it was beautiful.

And I believed her. I took it out, and I washed it up. I found that the thing I had thought dead and reviled is actually powerful and real. It has a message. It has a place.

Chaste will always be a terror. It woke up screaming. It will always be hard for me to look at, hard for me to live with.

It knows me and it displays me in ways no other work has ever. I thought to hide it forever. I thought to let it rot in a dark corner somewhere and try to forget about it. But I can’t.

Chaste is unflinching. It is brutal and dark. But I think it will help. I think it will make people feel understood, that it will make people feel heard.

It might even bring people peace.

It did for me.

 

originally published on Jesse Teller’s blog at this link:
https://jesseteller.com/2016/09/21/chaste-book-of-the-broken/

 

Title: Chaste: A Tale from Perilisc

 

Author: Jesse Teller

 

Genre: Dark Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

When her devout parents died, Cheryl turned her back on her god. Years of denial and self-loathing have defeated her. Her life consists of taking orders and succumbing to abuse. A group of strangers stops in Chaste for the night, but an unnamed threat is preying on the town. Tragic deaths have become more and more frequent. Cheryl wants to protect these travelers, expose the evil force, and save her fellow citizens, but she must find a way to believe in hope.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Chaste-Tale-Perilisc-Jesse-Teller-ebook/dp/B01J0FVC9S

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31278384-chaste

 

jesse-teller

 

Author Biography:

Jesse Teller fell in love with fantasy when he was five years old and played his first game of Dungeons & Dragons. The game gave him the ability to create stories and characters from a young age. He started consuming fantasy in every form and, by nine, was obsessed with the genre. As a young adult, he knew he wanted to make his life about fantasy. From exploring the relationship between man and woman, to studying the qualities of a leader or a tyrant, Jesse Teller uses his stories and settings to study real-world themes and issues.

 

Social Media Links:

Website – https://jesseteller.com/

 

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/PathtoPerilisc/

 

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Jesse-Teller/e/B01G0ZB7JG

 
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15269506.Jesse_Teller

 

Chaste: A Tale from Perilisc by Jesse Teller #horror #books #POTLReads


chaste-cover4

 

Title: Chaste: A Tale from Perilisc

 

Author: Jesse Teller

 

Genre: Dark Fantasy / Horror

 

Book Blurb:

When her devout parents died, Cheryl turned her back on her god. Years of denial and self-loathing have defeated her. Her life consists of taking orders and succumbing to abuse. A group of strangers stops in Chaste for the night, but an unnamed threat is preying on the town. Tragic deaths have become more and more frequent. Cheryl wants to protect these travelers, expose the evil force, and save her fellow citizens, but she must find a way to believe in hope.

 

Excerpt:

An unholy sound rose into the air, ripping through the silence of morning and raking claws through the isolated minds of the citizens of Chaste. Cheryl lifted her head from the straw pillow and didn’t know where she was. She looked at the humble, wretched home around her and remembered the last thirty years all at once. She brushed aside the pain and sorrow, the loneliness and horror, focusing only on the penetrating scream that rose once again into the air. She leapt to her feet and dressed in moments.

Ever vigilant, ever ready to spring into action—it was a gift from her mother. This tenacious residue from her warrior life hung on incessantly. She strode from the house into the streets, where a third scream shattered into echoes on the living rock surrounding the city. Cheryl reached behind her for a weapon she never had been given and instantly cursed.

“You are an aging barmaid. Your warrior training is dead and gone.” But she could not shake the need for preparation that hounded her as she made her way to the center of town. Pallid faces peered from curtained windows. Every eye held terror and understanding. As the scream of loss and heart-wrenching pain rose once again into the air, she knew what all others in the city knew. Another child was dead. Another innocent had been plucked from her vine.

Every part of her cringed. “That’s seven on my watch.”

But it wasn’t her watch—never had been. “I am a bar wench, a tired bar wench in a shamble of a bar.” But try as she might to embrace this truth, the responsibility of the death settled on her shoulders.

Caleb stood on the porch of the magistrate’s building. His gnarled face and hunched shoulders spoke of a fear that would not ease. Cheryl snarled at him as she walked by. “You will answer for Teymond,” she said, stabbing her finger at him.

He grabbed at the sword on his hip and whined, “I did what was right. How was I to know? I’m blameless in this!” he shouted.

But Cheryl had already passed him. She marched for the figure bound in grief on his knees in the center of town, and her heart shattered in her chest, driving all the happiness she had once known from her body. She gasped as she walked closer, dreading each step like a woman walking to the noose.

Teresa. She had been so lovely, had been so tender and sweet.

Cheryl dropped to her knees before Angus, the father, and gently took him in her arms. He struggled, throwing his elbows wild and catching her in the nose. She brushed the attack aside, letting it draw no ire, and she took him again into her arms. The world blurred as tears claimed her eyes in the name of Teresa Mettle, and she let them flow.

He made sounds that struggled to be words but held no rationale. A garbled grouping of consonants and vowels expressed the emotion that would never let him loose. Pain wrapped him like a bladed blanket, and Cheryl felt it all. Her father’s blood had gifted her with the burden of empathy and, try as she might over the last thirty years, she had yet to shake it.

She thought of her father and called out to him in her mind. His love enveloped her, and she hushed Angus and smoothed his hair. She would not tell him everything would be all right. She would not speak empty lies of false comfort. She would do the only thing left to do about this tragedy. She would love him.

In moments, he fell asleep. She sat cross-legged in the dark gray streets, holding as much of his bulk as she could in her lap and weeping for the sweet girl that had been stolen from a loving father.

Paul moved up behind her, relief washing through her body.

“I need her taken to the church. We’ll take him back into his home when we can move him, and I want her free of that house when he gets there.”

“As you wish, Mother,” Paul said, and she hated him a little for it.

“I am not a mother, Paul Burden.” She felt the whip of anger in the words and regretted them.

Paul said nothing as he entered the house of Mettle. It had once been a happy place, but murder and sorrow had turned the loving home into an abomination. It sat now, sneering at her like a vicious dog, beaten and mistreated until it turned violent. It would bite and savage Angus if she let it.

She decided to take him to the inn. Mandore would be furious. He would beat her, but she would not take this man back to his cursed home.

Paul walked out of the Mettle place carrying a body, tiny and thin, draped over with a ratted quilt. He cried as he turned his gait to the church sulking in the back of the city. More citizens joined her in the streets, and she ordered a few men to carry the tossing Angus to the inn. She walked alongside him, her hand on his chest, knowing and hating that her simple touch would soothe him.

Her self-loathing reached its summit when she found her house again, a sty of filthy crockery and other messes. She sat in the chair by the table and waited for Mandore.

When he came home, she suffered. He beat her and laughed. She accepted it all with no complaint. She deserved it. She knew it was her lot.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Chaste-Tale-Perilisc-Jesse-Teller-ebook/dp/B01J0FVC9S

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31278384-chaste

 

jesse-teller

 

Author Biography:

Jesse Teller fell in love with fantasy when he was five years old and played his first game of Dungeons & Dragons. The game gave him the ability to create stories and characters from a young age. He started consuming fantasy in every form and, by nine, was obsessed with the genre. As a young adult, he knew he wanted to make his life about fantasy. From exploring the relationship between man and woman, to studying the qualities of a leader or a tyrant, Jesse Teller uses his stories and settings to study real-world themes and issues.

 

Social Media Links:

Website – https://jesseteller.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/PathtoPerilisc/

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Jesse-Teller/e/B01G0ZB7JG
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15269506.Jesse_Teller

 

potl-reads-2

We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word! 

 

The Shackled Scribes by @lars_teeney is a Must-Read for Avatar Fans #bookreview #fantasy #POTLReads


shackled-scribes

 

Title: The Shackled Scribes

Author: Lars Teeney

Genre: Fantasy, Dark Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

Futharkia is a city built upon the layout of an ancient rune shape, and a foundation of slavery. The Broxanians have been enslaved by the Olgoikhorkian Masters to exploit the Broxanian talent for rune-scribing. In exchange, the rune-scribes are compensated with the sweet, golden liquid, Ichor, that the giant worm-like Olgoikhorkians secrete from their glands. The Ichor also happens to be highly addictive and psychoactive. The system has worked for millennia.

 

However, the Great Fern Jungle that surrounds Futharkia is dying, being bleached white by some unseen force. Coupled with the fact that the simian-like Fern Lice have been hunted to near extinction to provide for Futharkia’s ever-increasing demand for food, Futharkia’s ecosystem is near collapse. It is amid this setting that Cyesko Limariar, an aging rune-scribe makes one last attempt at greatness to lift himself out of poverty, even if by fraudulent means.

 

My Review:

A craftily created reality of four kinds of creatures living an inter-related existence.  My first thought was that is just like Avatar.  I strongly feel that every person who ever saw that movie needs to buy and read this book.  It will captivate the Avatar fan to the max! Very highly recommended to that kind of fantasy fan.

 

The book didn’t work for me personally for a number of reasons.  The biggest flaw, in my view, were the transitions from chapter to chapter.  I was left lost nearly every time…flipping back to the end of the last chapter to see if I had missed a page.  That got very frustrating by the 15th chapter.  The final section was a bit hurried in presentation and a lot of the story that needed to be told was simply summed up in a paragraph or two.

 

The time spent in detailing the historic battle of Broxys and Ferns vs. Imps and Worms could have been shortened to allow for more space in the last part.  I really feel the end needed more development and better explanations to fulfill the readers’ needs.

 

My Rating:  3 stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Shackled-Scribes-Lars-Teeney-ebook/dp/B01KDG6OKA

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31574313-the-shackled-scribes

 

lars-teeney

 

Author Biography:

Lars Teeney was born in Montana. After going to an art school in San Francisco, and working for years as a freelance designer for the start-up culture, he became burnt out. He abandoned the Bay Area for the Pacific North-west, where he could hike and bike to his heart’s content. He has worked for a variety of technology companies and has a keen passion for politics, history, science and art.

 

Social Media Links:

Website http://larsteeney.tumblr.com/

Twitter @lars_teeney

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/larsteeney/

 

Reviewed by: Mr. N

 

potl-reads-2

We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word!

#FridayReads – Liefdom: A Tale From Perilisc by Jesse Teller #bookreview #darkfantasy


liefdom-cover8

Title: Liefdom: A Tale From Perilisc

Author: Jesse Teller

Genre: Dark Fantasy, Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

A zealous guardian in a peaceful city, Gentry Mandrake is a fairy unlike any other. Cast out and hated for his differences, his violent nature makes him wonder at the purity of his soul. He hunts for belonging while fighting to protect the human child bound to him. Explore the mythical realm of The Veil, the grating torture of the Sulfur Fields, and the biting tension between power and purpose in this wondrous struggle against a demonic wizard and his denizens. Can Mandrake overcome such terrible foes to defend those he loves?

 

My Review:

I’m a huge fantasy fan and this dark tale doesn’t disappoint. A warrior fairy who has an evil streak? A mega evil wizard who makes Saruman from Lord of the Rings look like a pre-school teacher? Count me in!

Liefdom blends everything I love in a dark fantasy: an unlikely hero, a frightening antagonist who gives me nightmares, magic, stakes higher than the Empire State Building, incredible action scenes and the spiritual ramifications of good versus evil.

Teller has a true gift for weaving intricate storylines, complex characters and morality all at once. Sure, there was an over-abundance of violence and rape in Liefdom (be forewarned, readers) but Teller’s reasons as a writer for including these scenes are integral to the overall plot.

If dark fantasy is your thing, this is a must read! In fact, if you are a fan of Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones, you’re going to love this book! I look forward to the next book from Jesse Teller.

 

Favorite Character: Gentry Mandrake. Such a complex character and I loved the way he went through life: supreme passion. This journey is one I could relate to and while I won’t give away any spoilers, you’re in for a real treat because there’s a little Gentry Mandrake in all of us.

 

My Rating:  4 stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Liefdom-Tale-Perilisc-Jesse-Teller-ebook/dp/B01FWP8WS4

 

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/liefdom-jesse-teller/1123976634

 

jesse-teller

 

Author Biography:

Jesse Teller fell in love with fantasy when he was five years old and played his first game of Dungeons & Dragons. The game gave him the ability to create stories and characters from a young age. He started consuming fantasy in every form and, by nine, was obsessed with the genre. As a young adult, he knew he wanted to make his life about fantasy. From exploring the relationship between man and woman, to studying the qualities of a leader or a tyrant, Jesse Teller uses his stories and settings to study real-world themes and issues.

 

Social Media Links:

Website – https://jesseteller.com/

 

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/PathtoPerilisc/

 

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Jesse-Teller/e/B01G0ZB7JG

 

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15269506.Jesse_Teller

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

Liefdom: A Tale from Perilisc by Jesse Teller #DarkFantasy #Fantasy #amreading


liefdom-cover8

 

Title: Liefdom: A Tale from Perilisc

 

Author: Jesse Teller

 

Genre: Dark Fantasy

 

 

Book Blurb:

A zealous guardian in a peaceful city, Gentry Mandrake is a fairy unlike any other. Cast out and hated for his differences, his violent nature makes him wonder at the purity of his soul. He hunts for belonging while fighting to protect the human child bound to him. Explore the mythical realm of The Veil, the grating torture of the Sulfur Fields, and the biting tension between power and purpose in this wondrous struggle against a demonic wizard and his denizens. Can Mandrake overcome such terrible foes to defend those he loves?

 

Excerpt:

At the precise moment Thomas Nardoc drew in his first breath, a creature was born. The name for such a creature was fairy, but in recent memory, there had been no fairy like this one. He would be called many things: monster, madman, abomination, murderer, warrior, guardian. All of these were accurate to one degree or another.

He dropped out of the pale bloom of a mandrake flower, and was fully grown before he hit the ground. With a snap of his dragonfly wings, he took to the air, his nostrils deeply drinking the fertile smells of the ancient wood around him. He knew instinctively this was not his home, the same way he knew his child’s name was Thomas.

He knew his home lay five hundred miles to the west, and it would take him moments to arrive there if he traveled by flower. He flexed his arm and barbed prongs slid silently from his wrists. He looked down at his body as he moved, watching his gleaming exoskeleton fold and crease like a well-made, well-worn suit of armor. His pale hair dropped in his face. Whipping his head, he threw it back. He knew how big he was—massive for a fey of his kind.

Something within him ached. A yawning, black emptiness chilled his body and mind. He would have to fill it, or it would take him to diabolical places. His emptiness could devour everything inside him—make something horrible of him. He would have to fill it.

His name was Gentry Mandrake, and today would be the day he killed one of his own kind.

Gentry Mandrake flew. A throbbing world of white pulsated as he moved from mandrake bloom to mandrake bloom. He could feel his home, as he neared it in leaps that flickered in his mind. Within seconds, he pulled up and out of the flower. He passed the last few feet, quickly coming to a large tumble of rocks that formed the doorway to his city. He ducked under the rocks, slipping into a tunnel under the fallen stones. The light of the day shined before him. In it basked Liefdom, the great city of the fairies.

A parade had turned the clearing into a celebration. Mandrake wondered if they knew of his arrival. The city was embracing the fey born that day. They formed a line that wound from the ground floor up into a spiral that wrapped the city. It rose to the very tops of the trees to cross the balcony of the royal family. The trees swayed. The animals of the city crooned and yipped. Instruments sounded, and melodious voices flowed like warm currents of air, carrying almost indescribable joy. Mandrake entered the city and his heart swelled. Tears coursed from his eyes and his smile seemed about to cut his face in half. Looking up at his city, he knew he had found home, and he loved it instantly.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Liefdom-Tale-Perilisc-Jesse-Teller-ebook/dp/B01FWP8WS4

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/liefdom-jesse-teller/1123976634

 

jesse-teller

 

Author Biography:

Jesse Teller fell in love with fantasy when he was five years old and played his first game of Dungeons & Dragons. The game gave him the ability to create stories and characters from a young age. He started consuming fantasy in every form and, by nine, was obsessed with the genre. As a young adult, he knew he wanted to make his life about fantasy. From exploring the relationship between man and woman, to studying the qualities of a leader or a tyrant, Jesse Teller uses his stories and settings to study real-world themes and issues.

 

Social Media Links:

Website – https://jesseteller.com/

 

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/PathtoPerilisc/

 

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Jesse-Teller/e/B01G0ZB7JG

 

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15269506.Jesse_Teller