We’re excited to announced that Death Bound is a finalist for BEST FANTAY BOOK in the 2017 eFestival of Words! Whoever nominated us, and to all the people who voted for us – thank you!
To show our appreciation, and for those of you out there curious, we’ve discounted book 1 to $0.99 (Death Marked – here’s US and UK links). And book 1 and 2 are in Audiobook format with Whispersynch!
If you want to check it out or vote, head over to their website:
A man and a ghost team up to save the world.
When Rohan finds that a betrayal and near-death experience leave him with mysterious powers, it’s up to him to stop a man with dark magic from opening a portal to the dead.
His only help is in the form of a ghost who doesn’t remember who she is or why she’s there.
Will this odd duo of the spiritual and magical realms be enough to save the world?
He thought he left the spirit world behind him. He was dead wrong.
Rohan defeated the evil Frank Altemus, but now it’s his ghost he has to worry about. To make matters worse, Altemus obtains a stone tablet with the magic needed to settle the score.
Rohan’s only hope is a woman named Nora, a reluctant necromancer who wants nothing to do with the journey.
Rohan and Nora will have to work together to stop Altemus from using the tablet to rewrite the rules of the afterlife. If they don’t, Altemus will turn the world of the living into the world of the dead.
The world has quite literally gone to hell.
Rohan and Nora find themselves stranded and without transportation in a world where spirits and demons are wreaking havoc.
The battle for the world’s survival depends on them. But along the way, they’ll discover others with powers that may be able to help in this spiritual warfare.
Will they find a way to banish the demons, or in the end find themselves in their own eternal hell?
Grab them all on Amazon!
And Don’t forget to check out the eFestival of Words
NOTE: I’m relaunching the boxset! To get you pumped, here a sample chapter 🙂 Oh, and SPOILER ALERT. It happens a bit later in the book.
“The years have treated you poorly,” Semreh said playfully from the doorway.
Equitas turned with delight to see his old friend, creases around the young King’s eyes. He had to be in his late-twenties, at most, but the years had been unkind. Still, he held himself well, posture straight, rich purple robes hanging from his almost-plump body.
“The same can’t be said for you,” Equitas replied with a laugh. “I see they feed you well in the North.”
“Hey now, that’s my queen’s fault. She keeps insisting I eat more. Says skinny men remind her of little boys.” He held his belly like it was an award. “This, she tells me, makes me look like the man I am. A great one, in case you were wondering.”
They both laughed and took each other in an embrace.
“Where’s this queen of yours?” Equitas asked, looking down the hall past Semreh.
“She wanted to spend some time with your mother. You know, queen time.”
“And here you are, stuck with me.”
Semreh laughed. “I figured we’d investigate my neighbors of the South, see how the people of Braze are faring. Go undercover.”
“You can’t be serious.”
With a quick movement, Semreh cast his purple robes aside to reveal brown street clothes underneath.
“Semreh, it’s dangerous.”
“Are you telling me the streets of Nethia are not as well-maintained as you’d have the rest of the world believe?”
“From what I hear, they’re fine, but—”
“Then come, you must not deny your king his pleasures.” Semreh moved to the window and glanced out to the courtyard two stories down. “Wonderful. We’ll get to practice our climbing skills.”
“Do we have to?” Equitas sighed, seeing his friend already climbing out of the open window. “Lucky for me Amaris isn’t here. She’d kill me if she saw this foolishness.”
“Nonsense.” Semreh smiled up from a window ledge. He lowered himself over to an awning where he landed firmly and then slid down before jumping to another window ledge. “She’d probably be leading the adventure.” (more…)
Alastar laid on his back and closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the speckled evening sunlight that made its way through the leaves above to warm his nude body.
Just yesterday he had been a paladin, chaste and pure. He would never have thought about lying with a clanswoman; he had considered all members of the clans his enemy.
But tonight, Estair was lying beside him, breasts exposed to the evening air, and he felt like he was the luckiest man in the world.
She opened her eyes with a moan, then turned to her side. She propped her head on one hand, moving the other to caress his chest.
She giggled. “You have dirt on your cheek.”
“I’m sure I have it in worse places than that,” he said with amusement.
She hit him playfully. “Don’t be dirty.”
He laughed out loud. “That’s a tough one, out here.”
For a moment he just laid there, enjoying the way her fingers played across his skin. When she stopped, he noticed the distant look in her eyes. “What is it?”
“You mean aside from us being about to ride off to our potential deaths?”
He smiled. “Aye, aside from that.”
“Isn’t that enough to worry you?”
“No,” he replied. “Because I’ve seen what we’re capable of when we all work together. You kicked butt back there, and my sister’s magic is unlike anything I’ve ever seen; anything any of us have seen.”
“And to think you used to be one of the people who would chop off a person’s head for using magic.” (more…)
Alastar had just finished wiping a smudge of dirt from his gold-rimmed, pure white armor when his sister, Rhona, entered. She gave him that look he always hated—a raised eyebrow, a gaze that dared him to look away from her green eyes, and a hint of a smile at her lips. It was the look she gave him whenever she was about to knock him back down to size and remind him of their humble beginnings.
“Let me stop you right there,” he said, fastening his gold cloak over his shoulders and turning to the mirror. Damn, he looked good. Not in a conceited, sexy sort of way, but as a strong paladin who deserved every bit of honor the High Paladin, Sir Gildon, was about to bestow on him.
Making eye contact with Rhona, he attempted to match her confidence as he said, “I earned this.”
“Oh, and I had nothing to do with it?”
“You were there when I needed you, aye. But I was the one who caught the warlock. I am the paladin here, don’t forget.”
“How could I ever?” Her brow furrowed into a glare that lasted only a moment. “I’m simply looking out for you.” She stepped up beside him and reached a hand over to smooth out his cloak. “It’s just… there’ve been too many times we thought he was preparing to send you on the holy quest.”
“I have proven myself.” Alastar turned, voice rising in his excitement. “Why shouldn’t Sir Gildon send me on the next expedition?”
She shrugged. “He should, there’s no doubt. But that doesn’t mean he will. You don’t notice the way he eyes me.” (more…)
Flames burst forth from the farmhouse, the same one Rhona’s brother had entered just moments before. Alastar, ever the hero, had drawn his sword and gone charging in mere seconds before, leaving her to hide far away from trouble.
Clearly, that wasn’t an option. Not when he could be in danger.
She worked her way around the farmhouse, searching for a way in. A scream sounded, then the grunt of a man, and she decided it wasn’t time to be timid. She ran for the open doors Alastar had rushed through, in spite of the black smoke that billowed forth.
The sight froze her in her tracks—her brother in his white and gold armor, his white cloak smoldering at the edges, circling a man in the black and green plaid of Clan Buchan, the fire users.
She had studied the various clans and what magic they used, at least to the extent that the paladins had been able to chronicle it in their war against the evils of magic.
Her first thought was to jump in and help her brother, but the warlock spun, hands pushing out, and a wall of flame came at Alastar that caused him to leap back and call upon the blessings of Saint Rodrick for protection.
Watching the shield of light that formed between her brother and the wall of flames, she knew this wasn’t her fight. But when a figure caught her eye, a cowering woman in the corner, she knew she could at least help her. She darted through the smoke, staying low in a crouched run, and knelt beside the woman. Her eyes were barely open, her breathing short. (more…)
UNEDITED – This is a snippet from my new book in the Age of Magic series with Michael Anderle. Follow the Facebook Page, check out the Rise of Magic books by Chris, Le, and Michael and enjoy! What you have here is the prologue, so… be sure to pay attention to the next one too (when the story really starts)
Larick reached the top of the hill before his fellow mystic, Volney, and therefore felt like the beauty of the view was his and his alone. They had traveled over land and sea to reach this spot, and as the wind whipped at Larick’s heavy robes, casting them about like thrashing waves, he felt as one with nature.
Spread out before him was Roneland, the top portion of an island divided since the Age of Madness. Remnants of a city, old ruins of buildings that once reached into the heavens from the days of technology toppled and largely covered in vines and earth in spots, some completely overgrown so that they appeared to be new hills.
The ghosts howled, though Larick knew it to be simply the wind blowing through those old ruins, as he had heard those same ghosts many times before. He stood with the sea behind him, the green, rolling hills flowing in every direction, with the highlands just visible, rising up in the distance.
Heavy breathing came from his right, pulling him from the moment. He turned to see Volney, a shorter man with a shaved head like Larick’s, but with piercing blue eyes. Though the man was less physically intimidating, when those eyes turned white the man was a force to be reckoned with.
“If only I could learn to simply levitate,” Volney said between breaths, holding his chest, “this would be so much simpler.”
“You know, brother,” Larick replied with a taunting smile, “you could also spend more time on the physical.”
“And lose time from my mental studies? Hardly.”
For the first time, Volney looked up at Roneland and all exhaustion melted from his expression, replaced with awe.
“This is the place?” he asked. “Where are all the people?”
“My records indicate we’ll not find them in, or even around, the cities. Here, from what I’m told, the people scattered, avoiding the cities and turmoil, holding their own in the mountains on the one hand, or creating great fortresses in the lowlands.” (more…)