The Stag at Hand // Prologue
At long last, I am so excited to share with you the sixth book in my series, The Stag at Hand. We pick up the story about a thousand years after The War and the Petrichor ended. And I can't wait for you to meet all the new faces. So without further ado, I present: The Stag at Hand, Prologue One Thousand and One Years after the Great War Bound by the sea For all eternity Leviathan awaits her destiny. By fire and flame She sets the world ablaze For the coming of the new age. “Get your nose out
The Story I Almost Didn’t Tell
Dear Christian, I'm sorry my books offended you. I almost didn't release these books. That's right. When I started writing The Promised One, it was for fun. A labor of love. But I had no intention of releasing it. No, not because I didn't think it was good enough, or because I was suffering from imposter syndrome. I almost didn't release this book because I knew I was going to take the series in a direction that most of my Christian community would not understand. You see, if you've read my books, you know two things: they're blatantly spiritual, and
The Perdurables – Chapter One
Notice: Contains adult language and thematic violence. Reader discretion advised. Chapter I The attacks always happened in the open air—the wind in her face, the skies clear and cool, and she a target, a beacon. A fool. She banked left hard, dodging a branch as she made for the cover under the canopy. She flew as hard as her wings could carry her, not daring to risk the time it might cost her just to look over her shoulder, to see how close they were. The forest stretched before her—a maze of shadow and moonlight, flora and rot. She could
The Parallax – Chapter Five
Chapter V "Where is she?” the king asked Michael. After sharing the news with his friends and taking a few moments to let them reel, he had asked Michael to call a council meeting so he could meet with the people who helped run this kingdom. To tell them that damning truth, too. “She said she would be here,” Michael responded, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ferryl. The king’s council room buzzed with advisors—lords and dukes from around the kingdom who had been granted lands, powers, and a place on the council in exchange for loyalty to the throne. In
The Parallax – Chapter Four
Chapter IV The carriage bumped and jolted down the gravel drive, but Adelaide’s hand rested firmly in her husband’s. The dreary clouds hung low, a blanket of gray over the city of Benalle, casting silvery light through the window and onto Ferryl’s unruly locks. The castle loomed before them, great white stone halls flanked by towering turrets that looked as if they staked the castle to the edge of the cliffs. The black-and-white flag of Navah flew proudly at each corner of the castle, greeting Ferryl’s return. Hailing the return of the king. And the queen they did not know
The Parallax – Chapter Three
Chapter III General Titus Melamed made his way down the busy streets of the little village near his home. Cobblestones and dirt combined to make a mess of the roads during the wet, cold winter that had settled in northern Midvar. He passed by the apothecary he had visited frequently in the last few weeks, procuring tonics for his wife’s aches and pains. All part of a normal pregnancy, she had promised. He prayed to the gods every day that it was true. But today was not for a trek to the apothecary. Today, he had a very different but
The Parallax – Chapter Two
Chapter II The room was dark. Too dark for the middle of the day. Michael walked gingerly down the small hall that spilled into the sitting room before him. The windows that boasted views of the hazelnut forest beyond the castle were hidden behind thick velvet curtains, allowing not a single ray of sunlight to penetrate the space. Instead, ghostly orbs of candlelight hovered in the room like the souls of the dead. A candle on a table. A single candle by the chair. Hardly enough light to see the next step in front of him. But Michael walked on.
The Parallax – Chapter One
Chapter I The snow bit through his gloves, burning his trembling knuckles as they ground into the white expanse. His breath came in gusts, puffing clouds around his beloved’s face as she lay trembling beneath him. He kept his head low, below the fray, his body covering hers as best he could as arrow after arrow whizzed over them. The last one had been too close for comfort, the dribble of blood on her cheek already drying on her skin. “Through the trees!” “Don’t let them get away!” The Haravellian soldiers shouted their commands as the king and queen of
The Purloined Prophecy—Chapter III
Chapter III Duchess Delaney Dupree stood before the edge of the gardens at Benalle Palace—before the edge of the world, it seemed—letting the ocean winds whip her hair around her face, letting the endless waters, the pounding waves soothe as the dawn approached. The cliff-side garden nestled in the heart of the bow-shaped castle had become a favorite retreat. To escape. To think. No one really visited it much either, which she didn’t understand, considering the breathtaking views and lush flora. But while she would never understand the ignorance of such beauty by the court at Benalle, nor did she
The Purloined Prophecy—Chapter II
Chapter II It was by a feather-light touch that he had awoken. Like a flutter of wings against his cheek, the intoxicating scent of lavender whirling about him as he opened his eyes and understood it hadn’t been a dream. She was alive. Elizabeth was alive. And she had kissed him good morning from the place where she had slept beside him. His back barked in protest as he shifted from his seated position on the floor of her cottage, feeling as if he had been thoroughly beaten from where the settee had apparently dug in all night. Prince Ferryl
The Purloined Prophecy — Chapter I
Chapter I Present Day Something like a tidal wave of relief washed over General Titus Melamed, retired Commander of the Navarian armies, as he crested the rolling hills that surrounded his land. His home. It had been a grueling journey across the plains that separated Navah from the north of Midvar. A month of dingy inns and sleepless nights. A month of bread too dry and wine too sour. A month of nothing on his mind but starting over. His horse crested the last hill that separated the wilderness from his land—the land he had inherited at the too-young age
The Purloined Prophecy — Prologue
Prologue Fifteen Years Ago Myron was late. Damned late. And these godsforsaken mountains were freezing, even though it was spring. The snow had melted for the most part, but patches of it remained scattered across the mountain, leaving the loamy forest floor a patchwork of soggy grass, crumbling dirt, and dirty snow. Titus rubbed his hands together, clinging to the paltry heat that the friction caused, the kidskin gloves a pathetic ward against this icy wintry air. Dark. It was so dark that it was hard to see much more than the hands in front of his face. And he
The Promised One :: Chapter I
[av_dropcap1]I[/av_dropcap1]t had been love—deep, abiding, earth-shattering love—the kind about which færytales are written and wars are fought. So she could think of no logical reason why he could not remember it. Or her. In fact, she could only gape as she watched him ride, the morning sun casting buttery shafts of light across his back and through his unruly golden locks as he galloped away, growing smaller and smaller with each clomp of the horse’s hooves. She could think of no logical reason why the crown prince did not remember her, at all. It had been a strange morning, to be
The Promised One :: Chapter IV
[av_dropcap1]T[/av_dropcap1]he room glittered and shimmered in the candlelight like the lights of a thousand upon a thousand stars. She laughed as she ran, her shoes click-clacking on the stone floors. But she soon threw her hand over her mouth. She couldn’t be caught. Not this time. She was determined to win the game, even though she had yet to. The sound of her father’s counting faded the farther she ran. She soared across the golden floors—it was as if she was flying! She stifled another giggle before crouching into the tiny alcove. The alcove into which only she could fit—her
The Promised One :: Chapter III
[av_dropcap1]E[/av_dropcap1]verything alright, dear?” her father asked as Elizabeth plopped herself down into one of the two expertly-carved chairs that faced the hearth in her little cottage. Gifts from Ferryl—not that he would remember that. No fire burned in the fireplace, the coals from the night before waiting for her to relight them and begin the nightly routine all over. Except she had absolutely no desire to prepare dinner tonight. Not since— “Elizabeth, love?” Elizabeth slid her gaze to her father, emerging into the small living room; he took a seat in the matching chair beside her, his silver hair glowing
The Promised One :: Chapter II
[av_dropcap1]W[/av_dropcap1]ell, if it isn’t my long lost little brother!” Prince Ferryl exclaimed, throwing his arm around his brother as soon as he reached him in the palace corridor. After having spent a day in the city meeting with some of the nobility to discuss the presence of Midvarish rebels, he had returned to Benalle Palace as soon as he had seen the horses and wagons coming up the road—Commander Titus’s men, returned from their long stint on the other side of the kingdom. He had quickly finished up the last of the pointless meetings his father had scheduled and rushed
