Kumbuya Blues

That summer that everything happened. Bob could have dealt with one disaster. It was the way they piled up in an unending collision of disasters that had him feeling punch drunk. First his son rolled the car.  Scary, but Rick wasn’t hurt and the insurance company was understanding. Then the storm knocked out the power across the entire county and dropped a tree on his boat. He wanted to sell it anyway, but the insurance company was a little less phlegmatic about it. Still, he had fire wood to last him through the next decade.

The robbery at the bank his wife worked at was shocking. No one was hurt – physically, but Marsha was one of several tellers who just couldn’t go back to work. At least the disability was a different insurance company.

While all this was happening Bob still had to keep up with his business. He was an agricultural consultant. He travelled through the entire area helping farmers deal with their stress. Grains were at an all time high, but with oil prices up, so was the cost of fertilizer and running equipment. The meat producers were looking at huge increases in feed cost and wondering if it was time to retire. Bob helped them sit down and look at their options and make decisions that were good for them and their family.

Bob was so busy doing his bit to make the world a better place that he really didn’t have time to deal with the pain in his leg that was nagging at him. After all it wasn’t anywhere near his heart. But it didn’t stop; it got worse. Bob found himself driving with his left leg to ease the pain. After a near miss on the highway when he got his feet tangled while trying to brake, Bob decided it was time to visit the doctor.

The doctor wasn’t encouraging. She told Bob to stay off the road or she would pull his driver’s license and set up an MRI. Rick enjoyed being his dad’s driver for half of the first day. Then it got boring. Bob called his clients and apologized for cancelling, then asked Rick to take them home via the electronic store that stocked his son’s new favourite video game. They bought the game and a hot dog from the vendor to stave off starvation. Peace once again assured, at least for the night they arrived home to find the house surrounded by police cars.

In a panic, Bob hobbled to the door to find his wife in tears and the police packing up. The sergeant took Bob aside to explain that his wife had been sure she had seen the bank robber in the bushes. The police had responded to learn that the neighbour’s son in law was home for a visit and had decided to trim the hedge between their homes. He gave Bob a card to direct him to Victim Services, and suggested a change of scene might be a good idea.

Marsha packed her bags and went off to visit her mother and Rick went with her. Bob agreed an immanent nervous breakdown was much more serious than a pain in the leg, no matter how inconvenient. That’s why he was alone in the house when the pain suddenly flared up and left him screaming in agony on the floor. Fortunately the neighbour’s son in law was finishing up the hedge and heard him. Soon the house was again surrounded by flashing lights while the paramedics carried Bob out and took him to the hospital.

After emergency surgery to remove the gargantuan blood clot in his leg, he talked to Marsha and Rick on the phone and reassured them that he was indeed still alive. Bob was lectured by an endless stream of doctors and nurses about how lucky he was. The social worker was more help. She suggested that he try a convalescent home or similar place rather than burdening Marsha with his care when she needed to do her own work. Bob was looking distastefully at brochures when his boss came in the door.

“You don’t want to go to one of those places,” he pronounced, “They are full of old, sick people. You need to get out in the sun. You want to relax and meet some new people.”

“What do you have in mind?”  Bob asked, his boss always had a plan or several up his sleeve.

“My church runs a camp every summer. They have adults who come as chaplains for the kids. We are short people this summer. You could go sit around in the sun. You get your own cabin, meals and everything. There is even a nurse on site.”

“What would I need to do?” A summer camp certainly sounded more inviting than an old folk’s home.

“Nothing!”  his boss shouted, “That’s the beauty of it. You just sit around and let the kids talk to you if they want.”

“Sounds good. Where do I sign up?” 

So that’s how Bob found himself at Camp Menesetatchi sitting under a tree watching the children play. His leg woke him the first day early in the morning; but the sight of the sun rising over the lake and the numinous cry of a distant loon distracted him from its ache. He got in the habit of sitting on the deck and watching the sunrise. The camp was so good for him that he called and invited Marsha and Rick to come. She was glad to escape the loving but smothering care of her mother. Rick had met the girl next door and decided that Grandma needed him.

So Bob and Marsha sat in the campfire circle and learned to sing the Kumbya Blues. They toasted each other with flaming marshmallows, listened to the songs, laughed at the skits, and began to heal.

This is a story I wrote a few years ago for a contest I didn’t win.


👋

New Book by Lauren H Salisbury: Conviction

I like to highlight other authors now and again. Conviction is Lauren’s second book, a follow up on Courage, a sci-fi reimagining of the story of the birth of Moses. Lauren suggests reading the books in order if possible. They are both available through Amazon, and Kindle Unlimited.

Blurb:

Can two people with opposing principles overcome their differences to be together?

Than has spent his life ostensibly having fun while secretly fighting for his people’s freedom. A member of the underground resistance, he is only ever serious around his comrades and his family. When an injury forces him to step down from active duty and his reluctant nurse sparks his interest, Than finds himself in uncharted territory. The fascinating woman will have nothing to do with him.

Menali’s past has taught her to keep her head down and trust that God has a reason for allowing the human race to suffer on U’du. When Than explodes into her life, he refuses to take no for an answer and challenges all of her preconceptions. He soon has her re-evaluating her priorities and wondering what life with someone like him would be like.

Enter a rafflecopter giveaway.

Author Bio:

Lauren H Salisbury was an English teacher for sixteen years with an MA in Education. She is now a writer who dabbles with tutoring and lives with her husband and a room full of books in Yorkshire, England. She likes to spend winters abroad, following the sunshine and becoming the seasonal envy of her friends. When she’s not writing, she can be found spending time with family, reading, walking, crafting, or cooking. Courage is her debut novel.

Author Interview

Tell us more about your book.

Conviction is the story of two people who have opposite views on everything but find themselves drawn to the other. They each face challenges in their personal lives and lean on their growing friendship to help them deal with those issues. It’s about learning to look beyond the surface to really get to know someone, and to let go of expectations and opinions when they prove false. It also has a resistance movement bent on freeing the human slaves from their ruthless alien overlords, with a little help from an unexpected source.

Tell us more about yourself. What else have you published?

Conviction is the second book in my debut series, The Legacy Chronicles. Courage was released in February of this year, and the third book, Strength, should be ready by March next year. I started writing seriously after sixteen years as an English teacher, but I’ve always loved to create stories. Publishing this series has been a dream.

What inspired you to write your book?

Conviction is the second book in my Legacy Chronicles series. The series is based on the women in Moses’s life with each book telling one of their stories in a science fiction setting. I’ve always admired these Biblical characters for their faith and courage, and I’ve loved writing about them.

Conviction wasn’t supposed to exist. My mum alpha read the first book, Courage, and kept asking about Than and Menali. As a thank you for all her hard work, I wrote their story for her. It was supposed to be a novella, but it kept growing as I dug deeper into the two characters and found there was a lot more story to tell. Than does have a way of pushing into the centre of things, but Menali surprised me. You’ll have to read it to find out any more.

What are your favourite kinds of stories to read and write?

I like to read all types of stories, from science fiction and fantasy to historical fiction to murder mysteries. There are only a few genres I refuse to read. My absolute favourites are stories where there’s a unique set up or a novel twist on what’s been done before. I also love complex characters that have many layers I can peel back as I get to know them.

I like to write stories that will surprise people, whether that’s in how I’ve reimagined events in a different environment or the links between characters that are slowly revealed through the series. I also want to write stories that will resonate with readers, where they stop and think, “I get how that feels” or “That’s happened to me.”

What is your writing space like?

My office space is extremely organized. I can’t work there when it’s messy. That said, I tend to do most of my writing either outside or sitting on the sofa in the living room, and I usually have at least two notebooks to hand along with a drink, my phone, a snack, and some tissues. It’s not exactly cluttered, but it’s nowhere near as pristine as my actual desk.

What projects are you currently working on?

I’m about to start editing the third book in The Legacy Chronicles, Strength. I’m also halfway through writing the fourth and have another series circling my brain. Outside of writing, I’m renovating my house again.

What question would you ask yourself? Answer that question.

Most of the questions I’d ask myself are along the lines of when I’m going to get on with some of the jobs I have to do around the house or on the next manuscript. The one that stands out as different is, “What’s the next film you want to watch at the cinema?”

The answer: Normally, I’d be saying the latest Marvel or sci-fi film, but right now I’m looking forward to the new remake of Little Women. I have such great memories of reading that book, so I’m interested in seeing how they update it.

Links:

Conviction selling page: http://a.co/doeQtkg

Courage selling page: http://amzn.to/2ItzMl4

Email list sign-up form: http://eepurl.com/djCo0z

Website: http://www.laurenhsalisbury.com

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

Aerisia’s Refrain by Sarah Ashwood

Aerisian Refrain

Sarah Ashwood

On Earth, Annie’s voice brought her fame and fortune. In Aerisia, her voice brings her magic, but the cost of that power might mean the destruction of Aerisia itself.

Following the prophesied Artan’s victory over the Dark Powers, the land of Aerisia is finally at rest, until ancient beings, long imprisoned, begin to stir…

Eight years after Annie Richards’ stellar voice and musical talents skyrocketed her from rural Oklahoma to international fame, haunting visions have begun threatening her sanity. While she’s returning to her childhood home to convalesce, creatures straight from her nightmares bring down her plane. Annie wakens in a parallel world, Aerisia. Here, she discovers her musical gifts translate into magical powers—the legacy of a banished race who have been invading her dreams.

Mistrusted by Aerisia’s most powerful factions because of her heritage, Annie finds allies are hard to come by. Supporting her are one Simathe warrior, Cole, who refuses to label her as evil, and one woman willing to stand against anything and anyone to help a friend: the Artan herself. Seizing control of her destiny will mean defying both her ancestors and the Aerisian leaders. Mastering her magic may mean making the greatest sacrifice of all…or risk becoming the reason Aerisia itself is torn apart.

Find Aerisian Refrain on Amazon and Goodreads.

Tell us more about your book.

Aerisian Refrain, my newest book, is the story of a young Native American woman, Annie Richards, whose voice and musical talents have skyrocketed her from a cattle ranch in rural Oklahoma into worldwide fame. However, haunting visions have begun accosting her, making her question her sanity. She’s returning to her childhood home to convalesce when creatures straight from her nightmares bring down her plane. She awakens in a parallel world, Aerisia, where she must not only stay alive, but figure out why she is there and how her musical abilities play into the mystery. Along the way she’ll encounter giants, fairies, immortal warriors, people of the moon, pirates, dragonkind, and more. In the end, she must choose her own destiny, or risk becoming the reason Aerisia itself is torn apart.

Tell us more about yourself. What else have you published?

Well, I’m a homeschooling mom of three boys. I’m a runner—planning to do the Tulsa Run 15k this fall. I’ve done 15ks before, but not this particular one. I’m married to an asphalt plant operator and I literally never know from one day to the next when he’ll be home, because there are no set hours in a job like his. Especially this time of year, in the summer. I’m a writer, of course. So far my published works include a fantasy novella, Amana, my Sunset Lands Beyond trilogy, several short stories in various anthologies, and now my brand new Beyond the Sunset Lands series.

 What inspired you to write your book?

A few things. I enjoyed the male MC, Cole, so much in my Sunset Lands Beyond trilogy where he was a side character that I wanted to tell his story. Also, in this new series, which is sort of a follow up series to my first Aerisia trilogy, I wanted to take a closer look at some of Aerisia’s unique races and their worlds. Aerisian Refrain delves heavily into the world of Aerisia’s fairies, their mysteries and their magic. Lastly, I wanted to explore a connection between music and magic, so I wove all of these elements into this book.

What are your favorite kinds of stories to read and write?

I love fairytales, historical fiction, anything based on Greek and Roman mythology, anything set in medieval Europe or ancient Rome, and—of course—fantasy in nearly all its genres. What I love about fantasy is that I can take elements from each of these and weave them into my stories.

What is your writing space like? 

Up until a few weeks ago I usually wrote sitting cross-legged on my bed with my laptop. However, recently a cousin gave me a beautiful antique wooden desk that was so small it fit perfectly into an unused corner in my bedroom. It’s just big enough to hold the essentials and I love it.

 What projects are you currently working on? 

Besides releasing Aerisian Refrain, my next project will be a fun Young Adult Fantasy/Fairytale called Knight’s Rebirth, coming in time for Christmas 2018! It’s the story of a famous knight, Sir Buckhunter Dornley, who is content to live alone until he meets the charming and outrageous Princess Mercy. When he discovers Mercy lives under a deadly curse, how far will he go to break it? 

What question would you ask yourself? Answer that question.

 So do you, as an author, ever talk to your characters and do they respond?

Me: I don’t know that I so much as talk to my characters as sit back and observe everything they say and think and do, and then try to guide them in the direction I want them to go. They’re, uh, often pretty resistant, though.

Author Bio

Don’t believe all the hype. Sarah Ashwood isn’t really a gladiator, a Highlander, a fencer, a skilled horsewoman, an archer, a magic wielder, or a martial arts expert. That’s only in her mind. In real life, she’s a genuine Okie from Muskogee who grew up in the wooded hills outside the oldest town in Oklahoma and holds a B.A. in English from American Military University. She now lives (mostly) quietly at home with her husband and three sons, where she tries to sneak in a daily run or workout to save her sanity and keep her mind fresh for her next story.

Sarah’s works include the Sunset Lands Beyond trilogy and the fantasy novella Amana.

To keep up to date with Sarah’s work and new releases, sign up for her newsletter. You can visit her website, or find her on Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, and Twitter.

 

Listen to me on a podcast.

I connected with a fascinating guy, Colton, who does the Desert Tiger Podcast. We got together a Sunday morning and had a blast talking about writing, music and mental health. I had a bit of a cold, so there’s some coughing there too.

 

I can’t say if it will increase sales, and I’m not really worried about that, but I do know making connections is important. If you’ve always considered starting a podcast, listening to a few is a must. But I’d encourage you to reach out to people and ask to be on their podcast.

On the show, I talk about my newest book The Regent’s Reign and some other books, including some which will never be published.

You can listen here and for those who do, a reward. If you email me the title of my upcoming book for the summer,( It takes place in Spruce Bay and follows after Wendigo Whispers.) I will send you a free ebook of The Regent’s Reign in either mobi (kindle) or epub (everyone else.)

The Regent’s Reign coming soon

Marriette is acting as Regent while King Harald goes on a pilgrimage to atone for his actions. Holding things together for a few months shouldn’t be that hard. Then Harald disappears and treachery grows thick around her. She’s going to have to fight for her life and the future of Belandria.

Release date April 30, 2018.  Advanced reader copies available for reviewers.

Scavenger Girl – Season of Atchem

See my review here.

Scavenger Girl – Season of Atchem

Jennifer Arnston

Blurb:

Stripped of their birthright and shunned by the people of Ashlund, Una and her family are forced to live on the fringe of society as Scavengers. There is no question that her family’s bond is strong, but the law of the Authority is stronger…and soon it will come to collect her. After all, the family is on borrowed time already.

When a night of torment and truth reveals well kept secrets, Una takes new freedoms – free from the Authority, her family, and possibly her fate. Pulled between the life she’s always known and a world where status and rituals are everything, Una struggles to understand a culture that has rejected all she holds dear. As Atchem comes to an end and she learns who she really is, will Una find the courage to do what it takes to ensure her family’s survival, or will she find the faith to follow her heart?

Author Bio:

Jennifer Arntson

Author, dreamer, and sworn enemy of Caillou

Jennifer Arntson has a long history of crafting tales that people find unbelievable, but often true. As an observer of human and social development through the ages, a curiosity of faith, and dedication to the underprivileged of the developing world, Jennifer finds her creative outlet in stories and fables. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two children, and a mini-farm of otherwise useless animals where the family eagerly caters to their every need.

Author Interview:

I read your setting in Scavenger Girl as dystopian, though it doesn’t follow the modern practice of future dystopias. Were you thinking dystopia when you were writing it. What generated the society you created?

I’ve always been drawn to alternative societies, or at least ones that don’t have the benefits of our developments or general advancements. While some people think we behave the way we do because of our collective experience and achievements, I believe our actions are rooted in a more primal-type existence within a given societal structure. I believe that we struggle with the same issues that generations before us wrestled with, and these are the very same themes we will contend with for a millennia. Love, loss, joy, and fear – these basic emotions are timeless and limitless. It doesn’t matter if you have privilege or not. These emotions push us beyond ourselves and either inspire us to be greater than we imagine ourselves to be, or crush us under its unmanageable weight. When writing Scavenger Girl, all I did was change the circumstances. I took away the advantages we have come to know in our own lives, and let the characters survive within a structure of an agrarian, polytheistic theocracy.

The plight of the word ‘dystopian’ is that it paints with a broad brush, but because of our experience with Hollywood’s portrayal, we have been largely led to accept it as a post-apocalyptic or post-nuclear survival story. The definition of dystopian only implies that the world is opposite of perfect, so effectively dystopian means not-perfect. While Scavenger exists within this definition, you won’t find the survivors of war, or the insatiable flesh eating undead. The similarity is that dystopian works create an oppressive framework where characters are unable to pursue their own goals due to the constraints of an all-controlling situation. It could be a government, a superior species, an unnamed enemy, or zombies.

It was my intent to spend a year with a family cut-off from the benefits of living within the accepted social construct of society. Through their eyes, a reader is called to answer pressing questions such as: Is the common life one that should be strived for? What are we sacrificing to fit the status quo, and is it worth it? To explore these questions, the polarity of Scavenger Girl’s world had to be a stark contrast with what we, as the reader, have as an acceptable worldview. That is how Ashlund was formed and Una was born.

This is your first novel you’ve published. How does it feel to see your story in print?

Surreal. It started out as a dream I had one night that I couldn’t shake. To see it transformed into novel is unbelievable! …and it’s kind of awesome to say I did it.

What inspired you to write Scavenger Girl: The Season of Atchem?

This novel would not exist without the combined driving force of my husband and my mom. As I mentioned, it started as a dream and I wrote it down. Soon one page turned into ten, then forty. My mom happened to call and, as usual, she asked what I was doing. I told her and she sounded confused. I offered to send it to her, but not knowing if what I had started was worth finishing, I asked her to tell me if she’d want to read more. Two hours later she called demanding the rest of the story. “I don’t have any more,” I replied. “Then get off the phone and start typing!” Word got to my husband (because honestly, I was a bit embarrassed to tell him I was writing a story that was now over a hundred pages long). He started reading it and encouraged me to finish it. He believed in the work so much that he made sure I had ample writing time, brainstormed ideas, and helped with research when necessary. When people close to us found out what I was doing, they wanted a copy too. Family and friends started discussing it like a ‘real’ book and requests for copies of my work started trickling in. Soon, we had a story that had a life, and following of its own.

 What are your favorite kinds of stories to read and write?

I love stories that give a good book-hangover. These are usually books that make me think about the characters long after the last page is read. I don’t really have a particular genre of choice, which is probably why Scavenger Girl doesn’t fit nicely into any one category.

What is your writing space like?

Ha! Any space is a writing space. I’ve written on the floor next to my kids as they took their bath, in my van while my kids were at camp, and at the kitchen table. I’ve worn out computer keyboards at my desk, the kitchen island, and kicked back on the recliner. I’ve written during my lunch hour, commute time, and nights when I should have been sleeping. Every opportunity that provides a flat surface for my laptop has been a writing space.

What projects are you currently working on?

Too many! The remaining four books of the Scavenger Girl Series are complete and are in various stages of editing. I’m finishing up the final edits to book two of the series, Scavenger Girl – Season of Talium, to get ready for its release in early 2018. Because I love to write, there are a few companion works in progress although they are eagerly awaiting my attention.

 What question would you ask yourself? Answer that question.

With all the technology and options for entertainment, why write?

There is a diminishing opportunity to be creative. Most of our world is designed for us. Clothing, movies, hobbies, food, and media are given to us as either ‘acceptable’ or ‘unacceptable.’ Books unlock creative energy for both the author and the reader without the watchful eye of the gatekeepers. Readers can see the words of an author within the pages of a book and build worlds that belong uniquely to them. The relationship between the storyteller and observer coexist simultaneously, with limitless imagination, yet it’s impossible for me to control what you see inside the story I’ve provided. No two experiences are identical. Even if you read the same book twice, your experience is different each time. The only place you will find this sort of magic is in a book. Why write? Because, I have to. I’ve learned to love the discovery of my own mind over a glowing screen. (Ok, I write on a computer, but you know what I mean.)

Download excerpts from the book:

Season of Atchem Excerpt – The River and the Atchem Gown

Season of Atchem Excerpt – The Authority Visit

Season of Atchem Excerpt – Rebel and the Nobu Forest

Links

 

Website:  www.ScavengerGirl.com

Facebook: facebook.com/ScavengerGirl

Goodreads: goodreads.com/book/show/29509276

Instagram: Scavenger_Girl_Series

Pinterest: pinterest.com/scavengerg

Twitter: (author) @JennArntson

(characters) @Una_Ashlund  @Cal_of_Ashlund  @Mar_of_Ashlund

#IAmAScavenger

Scavenger Girl Season of Atchem ISBN 978-0-9994-133-0-2

Amazon purchase link: goo.gl/zK4yWd

 

 

New Release October 27th

Calliope and the Sea Serpent

Chapter 1  The Call to Adventure

Calliope followed Sir Shillingsworth through a vast collection of grotesqueries – creatures suspended in huge bottles filled with murky liquid, others stuffed and set in tableaux. Sculptures of horrific death, paintings of deformed people.

Her father took no notice of what surrounded him; tall, with his grey hair cut severely and great coat flapping like a cloak in the wind, he swept past giant skeletons, not even glancing aside. Calliope itched to get lost in the collection, sketching what she saw. That skill was the reason he employed her. Why he’d ordered her to attend this meeting was beyond her. She had specimens to draw and catalog from the expedition he’d returned from a couple of months ago.

Unless he thought some feminine distraction would aid in his negotiations. Calliope brushed at her dress, covered with pockets she’d added and spotted with charcoal and graphite. In that case, he should have brought someone worth looking at.

Pentam, Sir Shillingsworth’s protégé, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He had dressed immaculately in the latest fashion, dark hair perfectly arranged, and took his position as high society scientist very seriously. She caught occasional flashes of humour in those blue eyes. Calliope took a deep breath; she could put up with the boy for the short time she was forced into his presence.

They arrived at the end of the hall, where Sir Shillingsworth looked at Cal as if he had just met her there.

“Really, Calliope, you should take more care with your appearance.”

She made a deliberately sickly attempt to show feminine wiles.

“You should have warned me I was to send lust through Lord Carroway’s veins.”

Pentam’s snort echoed through the hall.

“Fat lot of good that would have done.” He immediately paled and held his hand up defensively. “I don’t mean that in a disparaging way to you, Cal.” But he was looking at Sir Shillingsworth as he spoke.

“You should stick to your convictions.” A pang struck through her heart before she ruthlessly quashed it. “Nevertheless, you aren’t the only one whose words occasionally come out a little sideways of their intent.” He spoke nothing but the truth. From her blackened fingers to indeterminate brown hair stuffed in a bun to keep it out of her eyes, even in the finest of gowns, she’d never make any male catch his breath.

“What I meant is, rumour has it Lord Carroway is not, er… set aflame by feminine beauty.”

“Then it is a good thing you take all too much care with your appearance.” Sir Shillingsworth rapped on the door as Pentam turned a series of lovely shades of red. Cal smiled sympathetically at the boy. Her father had little time for niceties, and none for anything less than the bald truth. “Dressing well isn’t always about seduction.” Sir Shillingsworth eyed Cal again. “Sometimes it is about respect.”

The door creaked open as Pentam fought for composure.

How appropriate. Have they treated the hinges to produce the sound? Cal knew better than to give them more than the slightest glance as they paraded into the room. But her mind listed ways she might have created that wonderful groan.

Links to preorder at any major e-book retailer  can be found here:

Catalog

Wendigo Whispers

Wendigo Whispers is my first thriller. It is set in a fictional town in northern Manitoba. It is available for pre-order now at major ebook stores, and will be for sale on my site on July 29th.

Terror and madness wait to strike …

Eager to start fresh, Leigh accepts a teaching job in the remote northern community of Spruce Bay. The fading mining community is rife with abandoned homes that breed a class of listless alcoholics and violent gangs. Resentment and hopelessness fill the cold air. Nevertheless, Leigh loves the town and the kids in her classes.

Just as she begins believing everything will work out, she has a second psychotic break from reality. And another teacher is murdered … that same night.

Leigh remembers harsh, evil whispers and an ax. Nothing more.

As the body count rises, Leigh and her husband become the last line of defence against an evil force that wants to destroy the town.

The Golem of Wacza

Olive D’Alton has his book The Golem of Wacza, the first in the Empyryon series free June 25 and 26 on Amazon.
I had the time to read some of the beginning of the book and the characters are interesting and already developing. The premise is one I haven’t seen before, so I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the book.

EMPYRYON Blurb

A fast moving epic fantasy novel set in a mythic era. It traces a journey of survival in a time of warfare, intrigue and oppression.

The Emperor, a bloody usurper of the Archaki Kingdom, rules the land with an iron fist. His winged Hussars swoop on the villages every five years and steal the boy-children for his armies. A group of conspirators from the village of Wacza enlist the aid of a mysterious hermit to combat the tyranny. Together they create a golem, a soulless killer, to slaughter and beat back the Hussars. Everything changes.

Colonel Kuntz, leader of the Hussars, falls in love with Natasha Archaki and, with a price on his head, they flee to join the northern alliance that is at war with the Emperor. Together with a small group of other fugitives they face the perils of the journey through the fearsome Wood of the Suicides, the territory of the fierce isolationist Hadre and must outrun the murderous White Wolves who pursue them in their quest for freedom.

Oliver D’Alton’s Bio

Years and years and years ago my first novel, a pulp fiction thriller called The Affair of the Dragon was published. Since then nothing. I became caught up in Academia and all my writing was devoted to the publication of scholarly research works. I’ve finally thrown off the academic yoke and have returned to my first love, writing fiction. Empyryon is my new book series that fits roughly into the genre Epic Fantasy with leanings towards adventure, military fantasy and quest. The golem, a monster, has its genesis in ancient folklore from Prague and the winged Hussars historically are Polish warriors. I am interested in both history and mythology and weave these themes together throughout the book.

I caught the travel bug at an early age and travelled extensively. During my travels I followed various cultural themes. For example, I followed the Siva myths in India and was ‘initiated’ into some of the mysteries of the rock-cut temples in Mahabalipuram. In Egypt I sought out the step pyramids of Zoser and the temple of Karnak. In Crete I followed up the remnants of the Minoan civilization and wondered about the legends of Atlantis first mentioned by Plato who had learned from the Sais priests of Egypt. And so on.

I have an abiding passion for racing cars and for sailing yachts.

I must confess I am also a stereo nut.

Author Interview

The Golem of Wacza looks interesting. What made you decide to use a golem as a focal point of the book?

Many years ago I read a book entitled “The Sword of The Golem” and this sparked my interest in the mythology and legends that surrounded the creation of a Golem. I read about the Golem of Prague which seemed to be based either on some truths or simply folk stories about the savior of the Jewish population in Prague, created through faith to protect the Jewish population from religious oppression. Some myths hold that the Golem is still hidden somewhere in that city and can be reawakened by a religious man, pure of heart. A Golem is conceived of as a huge humanoid monster created from mud and its controller breathes life into it. It is reputedly a mindless killer, in thrall to its creator. It hates the person who brought it to life but is forced to submit to all the demands of its creator. In my novel, the central oppressor is an emperor who ruthlessly stamps out all hints of religion and faith. The oppressed villagers under this regime reminded me of the repressed population in Prague. In my story, there is no countervailing force against the Emperor. The villagers turn to a mystic hermit to save them. As in Prague a Golem was the solution. However, in this context the Golem is animated through hate rather than faith.

Tell us more about yourself. What else have you published?

 I grew up in Sydney in a house by the waterfront and trained for many years to become an Olympic swimmer. I recently completed a book entitled ‘Swimming’, yet to be published.

I was an academic for many years. I have a Masters in Economics, a Ph.D. and a Juris Doctorate. I have taught Economics, Politics, Sociology and Law at numerous universities.

Apart from my academic publications which include text books and many articles, I published a pulp fiction novel, The Affair of The Dragon many years ago.  That was a lot of fun!

I also to love to paint and to write poetry. I have produced a series of ‘painted poems’ that will be slowly added to my webpage over time. I taught art in London and have had art exhibitions in London, Sydney and Collioure.

I’ve always had at least one cat. I have been living in Gozo for the last couple of years in order to concentrate on writing and sketching. For those who haven’t heard of Gozo, it’s a tiny Maltese island in the middle of the Mediterranean just below Sicily and above North Africa.

You can find me on my webpage at https://empyryon.wixsite.com/oliverdalton

What inspired you to write The Golem of Wacza?

I was an avid reader of Tolkien, who I met at Cambridge. I found it easy to be swept up in adventure stories and mysteries, as well as film versions of his work. More recently I enjoyed reading ‘A song of Ice and Fire’ by George R.R. Martin as well as watching the HBO series ‘Game of Thrones’. This combination is probably what sparked my interest in writing epic fantasy.

What are your favorite kinds of stories to read and write?

I have eclectic tastes in reading from classics to contemporary fiction. I love a good spy story like those of John Le Carre, as well as the thrillers of John Grisham. I find the adventure stories of C.S Forester engaging, especially the Hornblower series which is one of my favorites. I also like to read more complex existential fiction novels like those of Sartre and Sadeg Hedayat who wrote The Blind Owl, an amazing book.

I am sure my writing is influenced by all of this in subliminal ways.

What is your writing space like?

At present, I have an apartment in Gozo with a magnificent view over farmland and the sea. Lately I’ve been sitting on the terrace and writing under an umbrella, on my laptop. Sometimes I write in front of the TV with the sound off (especially if there is snooker or tennis on – these don’t require much concentration). Sometimes at the dining table.

 What projects are you currently working on?

 Empyryon Book 2 The Black Isles.

 What question would you ask yourself? Answer that question.

 Do I will my world or does my world will me?

I don’t know.

Here’s a brief snippet from the book:

The full meaning of this sank in for Nadja and a cold hand gripped her heart but hate for the Hussars and the Emperor burnt stronger than any fear. She took the stones from the outstretched hand of the hermit in a bold and triumphant way. The other conspirators cowered together as Nadja walked towards the lifeless body of the golem. The hermit pointed out the stones one by one as she knelt by the huge head and pushed them into the still soft brow. She placed them in reverse order so the last would be first. The hermit chanted an incantation as Nadja placed the sigils but as she began to push the final stone into place he was silent. The stone settled in with a sound that made Nadja wince and draw back. She stared at the golem’s face but nothing happened. Confused, she looked to the hermit. He was gone. Startled by the sound of a throaty intake of breath she turned back to the golem. She found herself staring into hollows of hell. The golem had opened its eyes. Rumor had it that anyone who looked into the eyes of a golem as they died went straight to Hades, to burn forever. The fire in the depths of its eyes was not the golden fire of candlelight but the blue, almost invisible flame of a cutting torch, a chilling, destructive, violent flame. The eyes, set deep in the armored face, blazed with menace.

Nadja suddenly realized the enormity of what she had done. She staggered back a few paces. The golem’s giant frame stirred and it slowly rose to its feet in front of the terrified band of conspirators. A strong odor, like rotting flesh, pervaded the glade as the monster shuffled towards Nadja. It stopped in front of her and a low, guttural growl was wrenched from its body as it bent its great craggy head before her. Its ears were holes surrounded by thick ridges, its mouth a gash. Conflicting emotions tore at Nadja as she stared at the huge monster. She controlled this thing. Partly fearful, partly triumphant she felt a surge of power in the realization of the force that was now hers. If the golem was invincible so was she.

“Stand up!” she ordered, and the golem straightened to its full height, towering above her, its huge chest rising and falling to the slow rhythms of the muffled thunder that rumbled in its depths.

 

 

Albert

Albert

Once upon a time there lived a frog named Albert. Albert was quite content as a frog. He had his lily pad, his friends and a wonderful voice. Everybody knows that frogs are great singers, but Albert’s voice was something special. Whenever he sang the whole pond would stop and listen to him sing. Albert sang about the moon shining on the pond at night, about sleeping warm in the mud through the winter and about bathing in the warm light of the sun. It was in fact, Albert`s voice that got him into trouble.

In a castle up on a hill, overlooking Albert’s pond, lived a King and his family. The royal family lived content, with the exception of the youngest daughter whose name was Sue. Where princesses were supposed to be graceful and composed, Sue was somewhat ungainly and terribly shy. Somehow she never acted quite like a princess should. Her brothers and sisters taunted her unmercifully. Even the servants in the castle teased her

One spring evening when the air was especially still she stood on the balcony of her room listening to the sounds of the spring night. Since her room overlooked the pond, she of course heard Albert singing.

     “Even a frog has something special that makes him sing so beautifully.” She sighed and leaned her head against the cool glass. “I wish I knew what that frog is singing about so wonderfully. She shook her head. “What nonsense I am thinking tonight to envy a frog his voice.” She turned to go into her room. Just as she was closing the doors behind her she heard a beautiful bass voice singing of the joy of spring under the first star of the night. Transfixed the princess stood and listened to the velvety voice.

“O dear me, you will catch your death of cold.”

Sue jumped and turned to her nurse.

 “You startled me.” She closed the doors and came into the room. she stretched and gave a tremendous yawn. “I’m so tired.”

 “Such a yawn for a princess.” Her nurse clucked and helped her change for sleep. “It isn’t at all becoming.”

Sue blushed and climbed into her bed. When the light was out and she was alone, Sue lay awake and stared at the ceiling.

 “Why do I need a nurse anyway? I’ve grown far beyond the age I need a nurse.” Still grumbling she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning did not begin well. First, Sue was late for breakfast. her mother glared as Sue hurriedly slid into her seat and sent the juice glasses to slopping over onto the white tablecloth.

 “Oh, I am sorry, I slept late.” Sue mopped at the juice with her napkin..

 “My dear, you are a princess,” the Queen said, “you must be punctual. If you cannot be on time, don’t make excuses, and certainly don’t rush about out of breath.”

 After breakfast the princesses gathered to work on their needle point. Sue stabbed herself, and bled so badly that she ruined three months of painstaking work. Her finger bandaged, she was sent outside to amuse herself until lunch, with the order to stay out of the mud, and her sisters’ demure titters ringing in her ears.

What use is it to be a princess if I can’t be a happy princess?  Gradually the warm sun began to cheer her up. Then she heard the wonderful voice from the night singing. Following the voice until she reached the pond Sue saw a large green frog sitting on a stump. She squealed and jumped back. The frog jumped into the pond. The ball which the princess dropped, rolled into the pond.

“How am I going to get my ball back without getting covered with mud?” the princess wailed. “0h, why can’t I do anything right?”

***

 Albert looked carefully out from under the water. The girl sat on the grass crying bitterly. He had often seen the princesses playing near his pond and felt sorry for the youngest princess. He liked her best because she was the only one who ever seemed to appreciate his pond. On an impulse he dived down into the water and with a great effort pushed the ball to the surface and rolled it to the princess. Sue looked at him in astonishment.

“Thank you, 0h, thank you.” She grabbed the ball and laughed. “They will never believe this in the castle.” Albert was so pleased with himself that he swelled up with song. Sue’s eyes bulged and she almost dropped her ball again.

“It was you singing last night” She gasped in astonishment. “You must be a prince under enchantment. no frog could sing so beautifully.” The princess looked around. “I will take you home and break your enchantment. Then we can be friends.” She quickly caught Albert and ran home to hide him in her room.

 Albert was devastated. This place was cold and hard, and worst of all it was dry. There not a decent bit of water or mud to be found. He missed the sun and the well known murk of his pond. As the day turned into evening his loneliness became so great that he began to sing. It was a terribly mournful song, and as Sue came into her room and heard it, it caught at her heart.

“It must be terrible to be a prince, and have to live as a frog.” She picked Albert up and hugged him. Albert was so sad that he kept singing his unhappy song. “Frog.” Sue said between her sobs, “You are so unhappy. I wish I could make you a prince.” And she kissed him.

“Who is that man?” the King thundered from the doorway. Sue didn’t answer, for she was staring at Albert in amazement. Albert had turned from a frog into a man.

“Why are you in my daughter’s bedroom?” The King roared at Albert, but Albert didn’t answer either he was looking at himself in amazement.

“Why frog, you are a prince.” Sue squeaked.

“Hardly a prince if he appears like that in a princess’s bedroom.” the King bellowed, since, being a frog, Albert had no clothes.

The King and Queen were up all night discussing what they were going to do. They finally decided that the only way to avoid a scandal was for Albert and Sue to get married, immediately. So they planned the wedding for the next week.

 Albert found the change to palace life very difficult. He wasn’t sure how to eat with knife and fork. Clothes were strange and uncomfortable. But most of all he missed being a frog and singing in his beloved pond all day. The only thing that made it at all bearable was the princess. She taught him how to eat with utensils and helped him choose the most comfortable clothes. She even stood up for him when he chose his entire wardrobe in green. But each evening Albert would slip out of the castle and go down to the pond. There he would sit in the light of the moon and sing. They were sad songs, and Sue listening on her balcony would determine to try even harder to make her prince happy.

One day while Albert and Sue sat in the sunny courtyard escaping from the wedding plans for a brief time Sue’s nurse came out to bustle Sue back into the castle.

“I’m about to be married. I don’t need a nurse.” Sue yelled in rebellion. “Go away, and don’t bother me anymore.” The old woman looked at Sue then slowly and silently left.

“Why did you yell at her so?” Albert asked. “Surely she is only trying to help.”

“She’s been my nurse longer than I can remember. But I don’t need a nurse anymore, and I don’t like being fussed over.”

“If you don’t need a nurse, maybe she needs you.” Sue looked at him quizzically.

“Why should she need me. I’d think that she would be glad to do something else for a change.”

 “What?” Albert asked reasonably. “She has always been Nurse.”

“I don’t know. That’s her problem anyway.” Sue grumped.

“You are her princess. I think that makes it your problem.” Albert pointed out. “You should give her something else to do if you want her to stop bothering you.”

Sue looked at him for a moment.

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She jumped up. “I’m going to go and talk to her.”

“What are you going to ask her to do.” Asked the frog prince.

“To be the nurse for our children!” Sue laughed, and ran off to find Nurse. Albert sighed and wandered down to the pond. He thought wistfully of his old uncomplicated life as a frog.

Yet as the days before the wedding shortened, Albert’s common sense made itself felt. Even the King found himself discussing difficult problems with his guest. The Queen went so far as to admit one night while she and the King worked over the proclamation for the wedding that Albert might make quite a suitable match.

“By the way dear, have you found out exactly who Albert is?” She asked. “We really can’ t have a proclamation reading ‘Today the Princess Susan Aurelia Constance Esther marries Albert.’ We need to know a little more about his background.”

 “Quite right, You should ask Sue in the morning.”

The next morning, the day before the wedding, Sue walked down the stairs to breakfast.

“Good morning.” She smiled, and glided into her place.

“Good morning Sue.” The Queen nodded. “Your father found a minor detail that needs to be cleared up. We need to know Albert’s full name and a little more about him for the proclamation.”

“I have been so busy that I never thought to ask him.” Sue said. ” I will ask him today.”

Out in the courtyard, which had become their favourite place, Sue found Albert. He was staring moodily through the gate down toward his old pond .

“Albert, my mother asked me what your other names are.”

“Other names? I only have one name.”

“But Princes always have lots of names. Like me, I have four.”

“I like Sue best,” Albert said with a smile.

“But you are a Prince, you must have other names.”

“No.” Albert sighed “I have no other names. I am not a Prince.” Susan stared at him, then laughed.

“You must be a Prince. Why would anyone enchant somebody who wasn’t a Prince?”

 “You did, Sue.” Albert said looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite fathom.

“Oh Albert.” Sue blushed.

“But you did Sue. You turned me into a Prince.”

“And if I turned you into a Prince, what were you before?” She demanded.

“A frog. I’m a frog Sue. I was never a prince until I met you.”

“You are not an enchanted Prince?” Sue’s face turned red. “You let me think you were a Prince all this time, and all the time you were just a frog? What am I going to tell my father? That I’m marrying a frog?” Sue stood now, screeching at him.

Albert flinched with each question.

“You creature. You abominable creature. I hate you.” The princess turned and fled from the courtyard.

Albert sat for along while, then slowly he stood and walked down to the pond, a sad, shrinking figure in green.

•••

The Princess locked herself in her bedroom. She refused to talk to anyone. Other than to tell her father through the door that the wedding was off; that everything had been a terrible mistake. She closed the window then wept on her bed for three days.

Finally, she got up and washed her face. Squaring her shoulders, she unlocked the door and went down to breakfast. Her family greeted her with a wary silence. The Queen gave her an approving nod.

Things returned almost to normal. As the weeks passed, Sue floated quietly through life, her face cold and pale. She rapidly lost weight. One morning she no longer had the strength to get up.

The King and Queen worried about her. They begged their daughter to tell them what was making her so unhappy. But Sue simply stared out the window and said nothing. The old nurse came to the princess’s room to be by her side. She bustled about cleaning and tidying, opening the window to let the fresh summer air in. The day passed and as the evening came Sue heard a voice singing outside her window. It sang of the summer night, and the sorrow of a love lost. It sang of the moon shining on the pond and of a beautiful princess named Sue. It sang of enchantment and a broken heart.

“Albert,” the princess whispered. She stood and staggered to the window. “Albert.” His deep, sad voice soared through the night, telling of the joy and sorrow of his love.

Sue sat on the balcony and listened to the song through the night. In the grey of the early morning she slipped out of the castle. Walking slowly but with iron determination she made her way down to the pond.

“Albert.” She called into the silver mists. “Albert, I’m sorry. I love you.” The effort of walking overcame the weakened princess and she fainted beside the pond. There Albert, once again a frog, found her.

My poor Sue.” Albert said as he kissed her. “I wish I could make you happy.”

The rising sun shone gold on two happy frogs as, hand in hand, they hopped into the pond.