This book is billed as a YA book. Much of the story is an ideal YA book, but I think that Mr Waybe puts a little too much philosophy in for that age group. I could see many, if not most young people skipping those bits, although I, personally, found them interesting.
Story
A young man, by the name of Jon Dough, who is starting out on his career wonders how his life will turn out. He does not relish the usual 9-5 dreary office job, marriage, kids, divorce etc so he goes to enlist in the army. There he meets a man called Atraya. (If you’ve read Mr Wayne’s Echo books you’ll recognise him.) Atraya gets him to sign a very vague contract.Jon begins to see ‘visions’ of another world in every door and window. This world could easily be straight out of a Dungeons and Dragons scenario. Eventually, Jon, wandering in a forest, sees a door appear in a tree. He enters and finds himself in the world of Evermoor.Knowing nothing about this world he is lucky to meet someone who will help him, and is dragged into the problems facing the land of Evermoor.
This is a fairly standard Fantasy story–young person finds themselves in another world where there is someone who is ruling with cruelty and s/he has to help overcome the situation and defeat the tyrant. However, this is done well, and it does not seem like a cliche.
Characters
The character of Jon is like a typical young man in his late teens. He is well-drawn and likeable. He does not really know who he is, but he does know that he doesn’t want to live the life he foresees.
Mr Wayne does a good job of making him naive and a little clueless, but I did think he learnt to use weapons rather easily.
Erany is a half elf princess. She is Jon’s love interest. He is a little clumsy around her because of his attraction. She is confident and knows her way around this strange new world. I found myself growing to like her more as I continued to read.
The other players all have different characters and skills. I found myself liking them in spite of some negative characteristics. But that is what makes them real. They don’t all get on well.
Writing
The difference between the two worlds is vividly drawn. The action scenes are exciting, and there is one surprise that I enjoyed, but I won’t say what it is except that it is to do with the identity of one character.
Grammar and punctuation are good.
I give it 4*.
My ranking of books.
In order to get a particular number of stars, it is not necessary to meet all the criteria. This is a guide only.
5* Exceptional. Wonderful story. Setting well drawn, and characters believable–not perfect, but with flaws. Will keep you up all night. No typos or grammatical errors.
4* A thoroughly enjoyable read. Great and original story. Believable setting and characters. Very few grammatical errors or typos.
3* I enjoyed it. Good story. Characters need some development. Some typos or grammatical errors.
2* Not for me. Story not very strong. Unbelievable and flat characters. Setting not clearly defined. Many typos or grammatical errors.
1* I hated it. Story almost non-existent. Setting poor. Possibly couldn’t finish it.
I ‘ve started writing book 3 in my series, A Family Through the Ages. Book 1 was set in Roman Britain, Book 2 in Viking Britain, and now Book 3 begins with the Battle of Hastings in 1066, probably the most remembered date in British history. Not for nothing, as it changed this country vastly.
Anyway, to whet your appetites, here’s the first chapter. It contains some violence, as it deals with the Battle itself.
Please remember that this is a very early draft, so there might be mistakes.
Anger of an Anglo Saxon
CHAPTER 1
Durston stood with his shield locked with the ones on either side. A helmet covered his ash blond hair, and a breastplate made of hardened leather covered his torso.
He turned to the man on his left. “We’re in a better position. We should win this fight easily.”
Looking down the slope, he could see the Norman army gathering. There were many archers behind their infantry. He swallowed hard. The Anglo Saxon army did not have nearly as many. His legs felt weak and his hands shook. What if he were killed here? His son, just fourteen, would be the new theign. The lad did not have the experience to deal with the work.
Pull yourself together. Leola will help him. She’s competent. He smiled as he thought of his wife.
Taking a deep breath, he focused on the enemy.
His neighbour turned to him and grinned. “They won’t be able to use yonder horses against us. Shouldn’t be hard, this one. We’ve got the high ground. If we can kill that William the Bastard, they’ll run back to Normandy like rabbits before a fox. Should have this done by noon.”
The Anglo Saxon army had hurried south from defeating an attempted invasion by the Norse king and King Harold’s brother, Tostig, at Stamford Bridge. They were celebrating when the news of the invasion from Normandy came.
King Harold immediately demanded a forced march to the south coast to repel this new threat to his kingdom. On the way, they gathered more men, all willing to fight to protect their country from foreigners.
As Durston watched, a single person came out from the enemy lines.
The man sang as he brandished a sword. Durston could not understand the words, as they were French, but he understood the tone. The man sang insults and threats, underpinned by his sword waving.
As soon as his song ended, he ran towards their line. Durston’s eyes opened wide and he shook his head. The shield wall opened, a little to his left, and the singer was quickly cut down.
Then the battle began.
The twang of bowstrings filled the air, followed by the wizz of arrows. The men in the shield wall raised their shields as arrows fell like raindrops. The Anglo Saxon archers replied with volleys of their own, although they were fewer in number than the Norman archers.
Men shouted war cries, those who were hit screamed, arrows clanked on raised shields.
The two shield walls collided with a bang.
Men on both sides pushed as hard as they could, at the same time trying to spear those opposite.
The air was filled with the scentl of blood. Durston gasped as an enemy spear found a way through a small gap and cut his left arm.
He thrust back and was gratified to hear a scream of pain. “That’ll teach you to try to invade my country.”
The October sun rose in the sky as the fighting continued. Durston swallowed. It was thirsty work, this fighting. He glanced at the sky. Nearly noon. As he continued to thrust against the enemy shield wall he felt a tap on his shoulder. He dare not look round.
A voice. “Go get something to drink.”
He slipped his shield from its lock with those on either side and the man relieving him quickly took his place.
Durston staggered to the rear of the shield wall. He spotted a fallen tree trunk and sank onto it, leaned forward and put his head in his hands. He shivered uncontrollably. The hours in the shield wall took their toll.
“Here’s some ale.”
He glanced up to see a young man about thirteen years old, holding a flagon.
Reaching out, he swallowed it in one gulp. “Thank you.”
Someone handed him a chunk of bread and a slice of meat. He stuffed it into his mouth and stood. His legs gave way and he found himself sitting on the floor. Leaning against the log he had been sitting on, Durston closed his eyes. The fear came creeping back. He looked at the cut on his arm.
I hope that doesn’t turn bad.
He felt his eyes closing. In spite of the noise from the battle, he was drifting to sleep. Shaking his head, and ignoring his shaking legs, he pulled himself to his feet and staggered back to the shield wall. He relieved another man and locked his shield in place with the ones on either side.
Once back in the battle, the fear slipped away. Anger swept over him in its place. How dare these foreigners come to take over his country? His legs stopped trembling and his eyes opened wide. Showing his teeth, he grimaced.
The man in the enemy shield wall was also showing his teeth. He shouted a cry, but Durston did not know what it meant.
“For King Harold,” he shouted in reply.
Someone to his left cried out, “They’re running!”
Durston glanced and saw that the Norman shield wall had broken, and men were running down the hill. Someone shouted to keep the formation, but many of the Saxon defenders took off after the fleeing Normans.
Then Durston could see no more as he concentrated on his own battle.
The afternoon slowly passed. Men were relieved on the battlefield on both sides, but after they had shot most of their arrows, the Normans concentrated on the shield wall. They found it impossible to collect their spent arrows from beneath the feet of the two opposing armies.
Again, the Normans retreated. This time Dutston was aware that after running, and being chased, they turned on the Anglo Saxons chasing them and a hand-to-hand battle began. The Normans in front of Durston did the same. As they ran, Durston was unable to prevent his men from chasing.
“The cowards are running,” someone shouted.
“No, it’s a trick.” Durston tried to call his men back.
As he expected, the Normans turned on the chasing men. With the shield wall dismantled, the Norman cavalry charged. Durston threw his spear at one man bearing down on him. The spear hit his horse in the leg. The animal screamed and went down, throwing its rider.
Durston drew his seax. As the man regained his feet, Durston slashed at his face. Blood flowed as a long cut appeared from his ear to his chin. He screamed.
The downed rider staggered, giving Durston the chance to get in another slash. This one, however, only hit the man’s hauberk, but it did damage the chain mail that made it.
The man let out a grunt as the air was forced out of his lungs. He raised his sword, and Durston only just managed to dodge the downward slash as it narrowly missed cleaving his skull.
Another slash from Dursto’s seax caught the attacker’s leg. He went down, blood pouring from the wound. He screamed something Durston did not understand, but thought it was probably a curse. Before the man finished his curse, however, Durston’s seax slashed across his throat. His curse was never finished.
Durston took a breath. For the moment no enemy approached. He glanced to his right. There, a young man, one of his followers, was beset by two Normans.
He raised his seax, and shouted, “For King Harold.” He rushed at one of the men. This distracted him and he turned, allowing Durston to slash at his stomach. It opened, and the enemy soldier clutched his belly and fell, his guts spilling out and tangling around his feet.
Durston saw the young man dispatch his adversary before turning to look for another man to fight. He saw a man with a mace approaching. He raised his seax, but the enemy lifted his shield and blocked the cut.
The two skirted around each other, getting in the occasional hit on a shield, but neither getting the better of the fight. Durston’s legs began to shake, and it was more difficult to raise his shield or slash with his seax.
He looked at his opponent who was breathing heavily.
He’s exhausted, too.
At that moment, the Norman raised his mace and brought it down on Durston’s head.
***
Durston opened his eyes.
It was dark. His head hurt. He raised his hand to his head and felt something sticky.
Blood.
His helmet had gone. When did that happen? He placed his hands on the floor and raised himself to his elbows.
His head pounded.
Rolling onto his front, he struggled to his hands and knees. He closed his eyes briefly. It made no difference to the dark.
He raised himself to his knees and looked around. He could see very little. The darkness was like a blanket wrapping around him, determined he would not see anything.
Durston sat back on his heels, listening. Rustling sounded to his right. Something brushed against him. He swung his hand and made contact with a furry body. It squeaked as he bashed it away.
Rat. Nasty things.
Millions upon millions of stars covered the sky. Durston tried to decide the time by their positions. The sun had been still up when he was fighting. Someone must have hit him on the head. How long had he been unconscious? He estimated it was not yet midnight.
He managed to struggle to his feet. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm him, but he fought against it.
It was then he heard the singing. Must be our men singing their victory songs.
Staggering, he headed in the direction of the sounds. He passed hundreds of bodies, both Norman and Anglo Saxon. Horses, too. He felt sorry for the animals. They had not asked to come to fight. They knew nothing of the politics that caused this battle.
A shadow stood over a body. As Durston approached, it raised its head from its grizzly meal. Teeth bared, the wolf snarled. Blood dripped from its muzzle.
Durston backed away. “I’m not going to take your meal, revolting as I think it is.”
The wolf returned to eating the body of one of the fallen, whether Norman or Anglo Saxon, Durston could not tell.
Wolves, rats and foxes tonight. It’ll be crows, ravens and kites in the morning.
As he neared the camp where he heard the singers, Durston stopped. He crouched. He listened carefully. He recognised neither the songs, nor the words. Someone spoke.
Not Anglo Saxon.
The bastard Guillaume won the battle. How? We had the better position. And they ran away.
It came to him slowly. With his head pounding and his dizziness, his thoughts were sluggish, as though they had to wade through mud to get into his consciousness.
It was a trick. They feigned flight, then turned on us. They couldn’t beat us in the shield wall, so they broke it up by pretending to run.
Durston tried to raise himself from his crouch. He staggered and fell to all fours.
Blast. Did they hear that?
Someone shouted and Durston scrambled away, still on hands and knees. Then the shout stopped. Normal conversation resumed.
Must have decided I was a wolf.
When he was close to some trees, Durston stood. He leaned against a tree to get his bearings. Where was their camp? Had anyone returned to it? Would the Normans have found it and ransacked it?
He lurched in the direction of where the Anglo Saxon camp had been. When he arrived no one was there. Not even a horse. He felt the tears welling in his eyes. Dizziness threatened to overcome him.
No one? Was no one left alive?
A sound came from behind him. He swung round making the world spin. He drew his seax.
“Careful. You are in no condition to wield that safely.” The voice came from a stand of trees. A man stepped out. He smiled at Durston. “It’s good to see you, Lord Durston. I was afraid you had been killed.”
Durston frowned, staring at the man. “Do I know you?”
“No. Probably not, My Lord. I wasn’t one of your followers. I hold a farm not far from Alricking. When news came that Duke William had invaded, and King Harold’s army passed, I decided to join. To defend my country.”
Durston sank to the ground. “We lost.”
The man shook his head. “Yes, My Lord. We lost the battle.” He approached Durston and held out a hand. “The survivors are assembling a little distance away. Let me help you.”
“I suppose King Harold is organising an attack on the Normans’ army.”
The young man’s face fell. “King Harold is dead, My Lord. He fell in the battle.”
Durston groaned. “Who is in charge, now?”
“Lords Edwin and Morcar.”
Durston allowed the young man to help him to his feet and, with Durston leaning heavily on his arm, they proceeded through the trees.
I wish this headache would go. I can’t think clearly.
After what seemed to Dunston to be hours, they broke into a clearing. He glanced around and noticed many men. Some lay on the ground, moaning, some sat on the ground or leaned against tree trunks and others moved around the wounded, administering bandages.
“You found another survivor. Good. Now return and wait to see if any more turn up. When day breaks, come back here.” The man turned to Durston. “I’m Earl Morcar. You are?”
“Theign Durston, My Lord. Of Alricking.” He swayed on his feet.
“You are injured.” Earl Morcar called to a young man who was passing. “Help Theign Durston to the healers.”
The young man took hold of Durston’s arm. He guided him toward where healers worked on those injured. The scent of blood permeated the air along with the groans of men.
A woman covered in blood hurried over to them. “Another injured man?”
Durston glanced around. Cuts, stabs, bruises covered most of the men. One was missing an arm, and he saw two men with missing eyes.
The healer took his arm from the young man who escorted him. “I see you’ve a head injury. We’ll get it cleaned up in no time.” She paused as Durston staggered. “Do you have a headache?”
Durston nodded, then regretted it as his head pounded. “Yes, it’s the worst headache I’ve ever had.”
“Did you get a blow to the head?” The woman lowered Dunston to a seat on a log.
“I don’t know. I can’t remember much. I helped one of my followers who was beset by two men. Then a man with a mace approached me. The next thing I knew, I woke up in the dark. Beasts were devouring the dead. At least, I hope they were dead!”
The healer cleaned the wound on his head, which bled profusely, and told Dunston to lie down anywhere he could find a space. “I’ll bring you some willow bark tea if we’ve any left. Should help with your headache. You must rest,” She scurried away.
We can’t let these Normans win. I need to go back and fight them again. Is Earl Morcar organising a new attack?
He tried to stand, but his legs gave way as the clearing span around him. He decided he should take the healer’s advice and he lay in the space between the log he had been sitting on and an oak tree. Soon he was asleep.
I received a free copy of this novel in exchange for an honest review.
In all honesty, I wish I’d read Book 1, Constellation, before reading this, as it’s the second book in the trilogy. Having said that, it is possible to read this without reading book 1 because Mr Scanlon skillfully fills in the gaps during the story without making it seem like an infodump.
The story is told in first person present tense. Not my favourite tense to read, but I got used to it as the story progressed. It seems to be the current fashion.
Story.
India Jackson is, for want of a better word, a Space Pirate. She is recruited to find out what Oberon, the leader of a different sector, is planning in order to capture Constellation, a ship that India secured for her sector. (Book 1)
A Space Station is destroyed, and India is accused of the deed. She flees with her crew to unsavoury parts of the galaxy in order to find out more, but with a price on her head, and possible traitors, it’s difficult for her.
I cannot say more without spoilers.
Blurb
Indy Jackson has had enough of war politics. After beating rival space fleets into submission and reclaiming a fabled battlecruiser, she refuses to kowtow to the derisive attacks from the military. But when an anonymous terror attack destroys a key space station command, she’s thrust into a power play that could be terminal.
She brought parts of the galaxy to their knees. Now one mouthy space pirate has become prey…
Forced on the run and accused of the horror assault that claimed thousands of lives, Indy ventures into lawless territory to find answers. But instead of gathering support, her reputation threatens to send her to the grave.
Can this fish-out-of-water and her ragtag crew save the entire sector from annihilation?
Nebula is the intense second book in the Blood Empire space opera series. If you like driven heroines, interstellar standoffs, and underhand political motives, then you’ll love Robert Scanlon’s intergalactic adventure.
Characters.
The book is told from Indy’s POV as it’s in 1st person, so we know her better than anyone else. She is a complex character, and can be unpredictable. Although she doesn’t mind breaking the law, she does have a strong moral sense and guilt feelings for people who die in her service, or because of her plans.
I think many people will know someone like Indy in their complexity. I certainly felt with her, and liked her.
Other characters are less well developed.
Writing
I have no complaints about the writing.
Mr Scanlon does well in making us feel the dangers and excitement of space. Near the beginning, Indy performs a dangerous manoeuvre while escaping that we can almost feel.
His descriptions of the places visited are clear and we can easily visualise them.
Grammar is good. No typos that I spotted.
If you are a fan of Space Opera, then I suggest you read this book.
I give it 5*
My ranking of books.In order to get a particular number of stars, it is not necessary to meet all the criteria. This is a guide only.
5* Exceptional. Wonderful story. Setting well drawn, and characters believable–not perfect, but with flaws. Will keep you up all night. No typos or grammatical errors.
4* A thoroughly enjoyable read. Great and original story. Believable setting and characters. Very few grammatical errors or typos.
3* I enjoyed it. Good story. Characters need some development. Some typos or grammatical errors.
2* Not for me. Story not very strong. Unbelievable and flat characters. Setting not clearly defined. Many typos or grammatical errors.
1* I hated it. Story almost non-existent. Setting poor. Possibly couldn’t finish it.
Do you enjoy Space Opera stories? Have you read Nebula, or its earlier book, Constellation? What did you think of them?Let us know in the comments.
This is Book 3 of the Georgia series by June V. Bourgo. Although it is the third book in the series, it can be read as a stand-alone novel. Anything that occurred in the previous books that is needed in this one is explained.
Story.
Georgia is a young woman who has gained fame by writing about her previous experiences. In this book, Georgia goes to a writer’s conference where she is to speak. While there, she uses a hire car to visit places, but is caught in a torrential rainstorm. She is forced off the road by a vehicle and into the river. Although she manages to escape the car, she is swept away and into a nearby lake.
Fortunately, she is rescued by a man and taken to hospital, almost dead and suffering from hypothermia.
Eventually, she recovers consciousness, but with no memory of who she is, or her life before waking in the hospital.
The story tells of how Georgia, helped by her husband and daughters, struggles to rebuild her life with, to her, total strangers.
Blurb
After a strange accident, Georgia awakens from a coma to a sea of faces she has no memory of, in a place she doesn’t remember.
Returning to a home she doesn’t recognize, Georgia struggles to mend the strained relationship between herself and her family, and rediscover a life she can’t recall ever having.
Through life-changing events and a mental struggle that challenges the very core of their family, Georgia realizes that her accident is linked to something in her past. But can she put the pieces together and learn the truth?
Characters.
I found I liked Georgia and her family, and was rooting for her to regain her memory. Ms Bourgo does an excellent job of drawing a picture of a woman with no memory of her past life, and the anguish she goes through as she tries to rebuild her life with total strangers. We feel Georgia’s confusion and her anxiety that she won’t be able to love the stranger who is her husband and the two little girls who are her daughters.
Georgia’s husband, Sean, is another character I could relate to. Sean does his best to be understanding and patient, but on occasion, as would we all, things get too much for him.
The two girls behave like most intelligent children would. Confusion and anxiety that their mother will no longer love them if she can’t remember who they are.
I don’t want to spoil things for you and so I will say no more.
Writing
As said earlier, Ms Bourgo does an excellent job of making us feel like Georgia in her predicament. She gives us a sense of Georgia’s panic when in the sinking car, and how she feels about her unknown family.
Sadly, there are typos and grammatical errors, and while they were irritating, and did on occasion throw me out of the story, I think the story is so good, they did not detract too much.
I gave the book 4*.
My ranking of books.In order to get a particular number of stars, it is not necessary to meet all the criteria. This is a guide only.
5* Exceptional. Wonderful story. Setting well drawn, and characters believable. Not perfect, but with flaws. Will keep you up all night. No typos or grammatical errors.
4* A thoroughly enjoyable read. Great and original story. Believable setting and characters. Very few grammatical errors or typos.
3* I enjoyed it. Good story. Characters need some development. Some typos or grammatical errors.
2* Not for me. Story not very strong. Unbelievable and flat characters. Setting not clearly defined. Many typos or grammatical errors.
1* I hated it. Story almost non-existent. Setting poor. Possibly couldn’t finish it.
I enjoyed this story as much as the previous two. Have you read it? Did you enjoy it if you have? Let us know in the comments.
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Maria and Tom have bought an antique table for the old cottage they have bought. When they hear strange noises in the night that sound like crying, they worry their house is haunted, but the sounds seem to come from the table.
They set about trying to find what is causing the disturbances. The answer is stranger than either of them had thought.
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All Carthinal wants is admission to the ranks of the mages. Traveling from Bluehaven to Hambara, where his rite of passage is to take place, he doesn’t expect to end up on a quest to find the long-lost sword of the legendary King Sauvern. With strangers he meets on his journey, Carthinal sets out on the seemingly impossible quest. Followed by Randa, the snooty aristocratic daughter of the Duke of Hambara, and the young runaway thief Thad, Carthinal and his companions face tragedy and danger. Watched by the gods and an implacable foe, they will have to accept help from the least likely sources and face their innermost fears. As the fate of their world hangs in the balance, they realize that this is more than an adventure. This quest will change them all.
This book came from a Dungeons and Dragons scenario I wrote for my D & D club at the school where I worked. I had been buying scenarios, then I thought I could write one myself. I wrote one from which this series has emerged.
I played Dragonlance, both as a player and a DM, and when I discovered that Weiss and Hickman had turned it into a series, I thought, ‘Why not?’ Thus The Wolves of Vimar series was born.
I only intended it to be one book, but it sort of grew into what will eventually be a five-book series. I’m unsure that my players will recognise it now, although some things are the same, such as searching for Sauvern’s Sword (Book 1) and the name of the antagonist.
HERE’S A REVIEW FROM AMAZON
Discerning Reader
5.0 out of 5 stars A solidly done, and crafted fantasy novel.
“The Wolf Pack” is an original and well crafted fantasy novel. If you like novels like the “Earthsea Saga” by Ursula Le Guin or “When the Heavens Fall” by Marc Turner then I suggest that you may well enjoy “The Wolf Pack.” British style and spellings throughout. Not really a negative, just a difference to be noted.
I found the characters well developed, and complex (in a good way).
The plot is unique and unusual. It is not easy to explain, but does unfold nicely as one reads through the book. I am trying to avoid spoilers, so I do not want to give too much away.
Dialogue is well written and each character has his or her own voice
Not quite sure how it gets into the Teen and Young Adult Interactive Adventures ebooks as it’s not interactive, and was not written for the teen market! Still, top 100 is not shabby!
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I am now King of England. King William I. Doesn’t that sound great? However it wasn’t such an easy position to gain. Let me go back to the beginning.
Edward, my second cousin, was in exile in Normandy after Cnut had taken the English throne. I decided to go and see him as he was family, after all, and had no heirs.
While I was there, I played on the family connection, and reminded him that, although he might eventually get an heir with his wife, Emma of Normandy, if he should die suddenly, there would be no obvious claimant to the English throne.
Well, he hummed and hawed and didn’t make a decision then. I’m not surprised, really, because his mother had married Cnut and had a son by him. She supported her son, Harthacnut, and eventually he became king of England.
Edward was lucky. Harthacnut died, and Edward sailed unopposed into England to take the throne. Not long after, he sent his son-in-law, Harald Godwinson to tell me that he had decided to make me his heir. King William sounded good, I thought, but I didn’t trust Harald, so I had him imprisoned. Eventually, in order to regain his freedom, he swore an oath of fealty to me, the rat!
In the year of our Lord, 1066, King Edward, who had become to be know as The Confessor, due to his religious conviction, died. Harald, the rat, took the throne and was crowned the day after Edward’s death. He said that Edward had made him his heir on his deathbed. A likely story!
It was then I decided that I needed to go to England and sort this man out. He had broken a holy oath, and I was the rightful king. But it seemed I wasn’t the only one to want the crown of England. Harald’s own brother, Tostig, joined forces with the Norwegian king, Harald Hardrada, and launced an invasion.
They met initially at a place called Fulford, in the north of England, not far from the city of York. This was 0n September 20th 1066. It seems the invaders won, but Harald was not to be defeated so easily. He fought another battle five days later at a place called Stamford Bridge where both Tostig and Harald Hardrada were killed.
Well, this was too good an opportunity to miss. I had set sail, knowing that Harald would be occupied, and we landed at a place called Pevensey. There had been a Roman castle there, and we made use of that. I ordered a wooden fort to be built inside the Roman walls. It was a good defesive position.
The whole area was marshland, and the sea came up to the fort walls. I ordered the troops to begin marching over the marshes, heading towards the town of Hastings. Once we got there, I ordered a fort to be built, and we raided the land for supplies.
We waited for Harald to arrive from his battle at Stamford Bridge. We knew they would be tired after a forced march. I set a watch the night before the battle. I would not have put it past Harald to make a surprise attack, but he didn’t, and so on 14th October, at dawn, the battle began.
I won’t go into details here. Suffice it to say that it was hard fought and lasted all day. In the end, though, we won, and Harald was dead. I was now King of England.
I have begun the research for the next book in the series, A Family Through the Ages. This one will start in 1066 with the Battle of Hastings.
If you would like to catch up on the series, the first book, Vengeance of a Slave, is free as an ebook. Alternatively, you can get it from your favourite store, here.
Jealousy of a Viking, the second book, can be got from your favourite store, here.
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This book is the second in the Dragon Train series. It begins two years after the events of Dragon Train.
It is an original take on dragons. There was, many years before, a war between dragons and humans. The humans won and enslaved the dragons, treating them badly and making them pull their trains.
The humans–most of them–are unaware that dragons are intelligent and can speak to each other through telepathy.
Story.
Jaidon is visited by the Dragon, Skye, whom he rescued from the dragon train along with her mate and three youngsters. She wants his help in freeing the dragons from slavery.
Jaidon goes with her to where the free dragons live–a less than hospitable place, where he is enlisted to help.
I don’t want to give too much away, so I’ll leave it there.
Characters.
Jaidon is a believable character. He has problems with his father, as many teenagers do, but he is loyal in his determination that the dragons should not be enslaved. He is likeable and brave, too.
The dragons all have different personalities. Skye seems to look on Jaidon as one of her own children and there are occasions when he thinks she is behaving like a mother. Her mate is not quite as certain of Jaidon as Skye, but is willing to trust him, in order to gain dragonkind’s freedom.
And there is one very scary dragon who has never been enslaved. He is a huge blue called Helmut. He has his doubts about Jaidon, but decides that he has to trust him, but only up to a point.
Writing.
RJ draws a clear picture of the dragons and their situation. He makes us feel sympathy for them. I think there is just enough description of the surroundings for us to be able to envisage it.
He certainly makes Helmut scary!
There were not many typos, although I did notice a few, but the grammar and punctuation were flawless.
Do you enjoy teen stories?I know quite a lot of adults do!Let us know in the comments.
I really love dragons, and have them in most of my fantasy books to date. If you would like to read about my dragons, click on the covers in the sidebar. They are available in all formats and from many platforms.
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If you are a member of a reading group, would you like to share with us what your group is reading?
I would be interested in what you have to say about reading groups.
Do you think they are helpful? If so, in what way?
2. How does your group choose the books you are going to read?
3. How long do you have to read it before you meet to discuss it?
4. Do you meet and discuss parts of the book?
5. What kind of things do you talk about when you meet?
6. Are there any groups that specialise in particular genres; for example, historical fiction, women’s literature, science fiction, literary etc.
If you aren’t in a reading group, perhaps you could tell us something about your favourite genre, and what is your favourite book?
I’m not in a reading group. However, I enjoy fantasy, historical fiction and science fiction. Having said that, there are many books not in those sections that I enjoy.
As to my favourite books. Well, that’s a difficult one. It might well be the last book I read, provided it’s not dire!
I really enjoyed reading the latest book by Diana Wallace Peach, The Necromancer’s Daughter. You can read my review of it in last Monday’s post.
Miserichorde by Cynthia A. Morgan is another fantasy I’ve enjoyed recently. You can read my review here.
Of course there is The Wheel of Time by Robert Jordan. A brilliant series. The characters really gripped me. It is currently being filmed by Amazon and screening on Prime. I’ve not reviewed any of these books, but be assured, they are excellent.
I enjoyed Down to the Needle, by Mary Deal, too. Another talented writer. This is a gripping tale of a woman’s search for her daughter, and her fight to save her from execution. My review is here.
Shadow Stalker series by Renee Scattergood is another good fantasy series (my review of book 2 is here.) as is The Secret of Excalibur and the other Excalibur books by Sahara Foley. (My review of Book 2, the Revenge of Excalibur is here.)
Please answer in the comments box.
And while I’m at it, Jealousy of a Viking is now available as an audiobook. Here is something of what the narrator, Ink Arnadine, said about it.
I am absolutely loving the book and have read on to chapter 20 in the guise of ‘prep’ but honestly, it’s because I am loving the story! These are the signs of a really enjoyable, great read and it’s a real pleasure (and honour) to have the opportunity to narrate it.
I like your writing, the flow is elegant and informative and utterly compelling. Absolutely fab. Your amazing narrative flow is the absolute backbone of this story.
You really are a great writer and although this is only the second book of yours I have read, I am keen to add more to my recreational reading list! There is an honesty of emotion and emotional strength in your writing that I absolutely adore.
I don’t seem to be getting on very well with Book 4 of The Wolves of Vimar. Somehow, life keeps getting in the way. Anyway, it’s currently undergoing critiques from a couple of online critique groups I’m in. As it’s chapter by chapter, and I need to do crits for others before I can post, it’s a long process. Still, we’ll get there. Eventually!
I’m still waiting to hear about my poetry book. It’s been nearly 5 months now, but I hope it won’t be much longer. I’d self-publish it, but as it has pictures, and the formatting of poetry is not straightforward, I’m reluctant to go down that road.
For your delectation, today I’m going to post a bit from Immortal’s Death, Book 4 of the Wolves of Vimar series. Please, remember, though, that this is just the first draft, so might not be perfect. In fact, it’s unlikely to be perfect!
Here Goes.
This is from near the beginning of the book. Thadora was brought up as a thief in the Warren at Hambara, but she was recognised as a daughter to the Duke of Hambara when he saw her remarkable resemblance to his grandmother. He adopted her, thus legitimising her.
Here, Thadora is attending the wedding of her sister, Randa, the duke’s elder daughter, to Prince Almoro.It’s rather long, so my apologies.
Thadora
Outside the great banqueting hall in the palace, Thadora found herself standing next to Sandron, brother to Duke Larrin of Sendolina.
“Have you seen Larrin?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He must be here somewhere. There are so many people it’s easy to miss someone.”
Sandron frowned. “I didn’t see him in the temple, either, but you’re right, he’ll be here somewhere. Allow me to escort you into the banqueting hall, Lady Thadora.” He bowed.
Thadora giggled. “Now you’re Sandron, the courtier. Different from when we first met.”
They had met when a group of bandits, led by Sandron, captured Wolf after they found Sauvern’s Sword. The youngest son of the late Duke of Sendolina amused himself by leading these bandits, but Randa recognised him and he quickly released her and her friends when she promised not to tell his father how he had been amusing himself.
Youngest sons often found they had little to do, and so long ago they formed a band of mercenaries and called themselves The Red Hawks.
On Randa’s suggestion, Sandron recruited enough young men to form a new group, also calling themselves The Red Hawks in memory of the band from the past.
Thadora took Sandron’s proffered arm and the pair entered the banqueting hall.
As they crossed the threshold, Thadora’s shoe caught in the hem of her dress and she staggered, hopping, as she tried to release her shoe without tearing it. “Zol’s balls, I’ve been promising myself I wouldn’t do that.”
Sandron laughed as he managed to steady her. “Being the Duke of Hambara’s second daughter hasn’t improved your language any, has it? Nor your grace in a dress.”
Thadora pressed her lips together to prevent the swear word that rose to them, this time at Sandron. Instead she simply elbowed him in the ribs.
He groaned and rubbed the sore spot. “Sorry, Lady Thadora.”
Lady Thadora stared daggers at him. “Stop mocking me, Lord Sandron, or it’ll be the worse for you. I won’t always be in a dress.”
He laughed and Thadora joined in.
As the sister of the bride, Thadora was seated at the table next to King Perdillon unable to find words to say to her royal neighbour.
I must mind my manners. I must mind my manners, she told herself, over and over again.
When the king spoke she thought he sounded so ordinary that she forgot about his royalty. He asked about her adventures and the formation of Wolf, and seemed genuinely interested in her answers.
“So this sword, the one that belonged to King Sauvern, is magical and will be needed soon?”
“Yes. Carthinal found a prophecy. But you know about that. He thinks this Branlow he met in Frelli is the Never-Dying Man, and can only be stopped by using the Sword.”
She looked around the room. The crowd made a continual buzz. How was Fero coping? He never liked crowds, and with Randa marrying someone else, it would be even more difficult.
As her eyes sought her friend, she noticed a couple of spare seats.
She turned to Perdillon. “Who hasn’t come to the wedding? There are two empty seats next to the Duchess of Eribore.”
The king looked to where she indicated and raised his eyebrows. “I think that’s where my wife put Duke Larrin of Sendolina. I wonder why he’s not here?” He leaned across to Almoro.
“Duke Larrin isn’t here, Almoro. Do we know why?”
Almoro shook his head. “He answered the invitation saying he’d be here. It’s not like him to go against protocol.”
Thadora leaned forward. “Sandron was looking for him, too. He thought his brother should be here.”
“No doubt it’ll sort itself out. There must have been some emergency we’ve not heard about.”
The banquet continued through four more courses, then a messenger came and whispered something in Perdillon’s ear.
The king blanched, stood and left, apologising.
His wife, Queen Helloria looked up. “What is it, Perdillon?”
The king told her it was probably nothing, but he had to go and see someone.
He returned shortly and walked over to where Duke Firbolt of Meridor sat next to his wife. The duke looked unwell. His health had not been the same since the mysterious illness that had killed King Gerim, and many of the dukes. The king bent and whispered something in his ear. The duke immediately stood, said something to his wife, and both hurried out of the room.
Without speaking to the master of ceremonies, who announced the speeches, Perdillon lifted the man’s gavel and banged on the table.
“May I have your attention, ladies and gentlemen.”
Silence fell as King Perdillon began to speak.
“I apologise to Almoro and Randa for this interruption to their wedding festivities, but there has been a serious event. It seems that the army of Erian has entered our territory. They have taken Meridor.”
A hubbub of voices broke out. Meridor had never been taken in battle until now. People called out asking questions, but the king banged the gavel once more.
“From what I have been told, Meridor capitulated without a fight.”
Gasps were heard around the gathered crowd.
Perdillon continued. “We have no idea why the Duke Firbolt’s steward surrendered without a fight. The duke has gone to find out. We also noticed the absence of Duke Larrin of Sendolina. We hope there isn’t a similar problem in that duchy.
“Again, I apologise to Almoro and Randa, but, in view of the situation, I’m calling an immediate meeting in the council room. Would the dukes please attend me there? The rest of you please continue with your meal.”
The king strode out of the banqueting hall, followed by the dukes.
Everyone else remained sitting in silence. The joyful occasion had turned sour, and few people wanted to eat anything more.
Seeing this, Almoro stood. “This has spoiled a happy celebration. I’m sorry. I think we should abandon the meal. You can either leave for your accommodation, or we’ll meet in the ballroom. Thank you all for attending, and for the generous gifts you have given to my wife and me.”
~*~
Thadora spotted Carthinal across the room. His deep blue robe looked startling with his shoulder-length auburn hair, and almost matched his indigo eyes. He had trimmed his beard to a short stubble.
No doubt about it, he’s a handsome man.
Sitting next to him at a low table was his wife, the elf, Yssalithisandra. She had plaited her golden hair and wound it around her head. Her robe was a rich burgundy. She smiled at their daughter, Starralishinara, who played with a stuffed dragon.
Starr, as she was known, had her father’s auburn hair, and her mother’s blue eyes, paler than her father’s.
Thadora made her way over to them, accompanied by Randa and Prince Almoro. The three drew up chairs and sat.
Sandron approached with the little dragonet, Muldee, sitting on his shoulder. Thadora exclaimed with delight at seeing this small relative of dragons. His iridescent scales gleamed in the light coming through the large windows on the south side of the huge room. They changed colour as he moved.
“You’re here, Muldee.” She tried to put her arms around the creature, but he flew into the air moments before her assault. “I thought you’d gone back to the lake to join your brothers and sisters.”
“I did, for a while, but after the excitement of living with Sandron, it was boring. When I came back, and Sandron told me Randa was getting married, I had to come. I wouldn’t miss the wedding of one of my friends.” He studied Randa. “You look lovely, Randa. But Sandron told me to stay away from the actual wedding. What did he think I’d do?”
Sandron tossed his head back and laughed. “I had no idea what you might do. That’s why I said you weren’t to come to the ceremony.”
Thadora looked around. The ballroom had been decorated in blue and white in a similar way to the great hall. Tables surrounded an open space in the centre of the room.
I don’t suppose the dancing will take place now. That’s good. I would probably fall over my own feet and end up in a heap, the laughing stock of the whole court.
Thadora glanced towards the door where Queen Helloria entered with three year old Crown Prince Gerim. Dowager Queen Carrolla accompanied her. Seeing Randa and Almoro, they approached.
The company bowed or curtsied to the two queens, Thadora barely managing to keep her balance as she stifled the swear word that sprang to her lips. If she swore in front of two queens, her father would definitely kill her.
“I am really sorry your wedding has been spoiled.” Queen Helloria shook her head and hugged Prince Gerim tightly. “I hope we can avoid a war with Erian. What’s this Master doing, attacking us? We’ve been at peace for so long.”
Little Prince Gerim squirmed. When the queen released him he ran towards Starr. Yssa and Queen Helloria moved off to discuss the merits of their children.
Queen Carolla turned to Sandron. “I wondered why your brother wasn’t here. Do you think it’s anything to do with this crisis?”
“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” Sandron replied, “but I think Muldee, here, might be able to help find out.”
“Ah, yes, your little dragonet. I heard…”
Muldee interrupted the queen dowager. “I’m not his little dragonet. I’m my own little dragonet. I’m not a pet to be owned by someone.”
Thadora stifled a grin that Muldee should speak so to a queen, but the monarch smiled.
“My apologies, Muldee. How can you help find out?”
“You might have heard we dragonets are telepathic. We can hear people’s thoughts. Oh, not everybody, and not all the time.” He giggled. “But it’s fun sometimes to listen to the thoughts of people if they don’t know about blocking.”
“Stop chattering, Muldee.” Sandron turned to the queen who had a slight frown on her face. “I apologise, Your Majesty. Muldee has no idea of rank and treats everyone the same. As to hearing your thoughts, he rarely tries, and even if he does, most people are not telepathic.”
The queen smoothed her face and smiled. “What’s your idea about finding out about your brother?”
“I can ask Muldee to go to Sendolina. It will be much better than sending someone on a horse. He can slip in, listen to people’s thoughts and find out what’s going on.”
“What a good idea.” The queen dowager beckoned to Sandron. “Follow me. We must put this to my son.”
When Sandron and the queen dowager left, the other members of Wolf approached.
Asphodel smoothed the white robes that showed her as a priestess of Sylissa, the goddess of healing. She curtsied to Prince Almoro before sitting next to Randa.
Thadora watched The Cat as he squirmed in his seat. She understood why the small thief was uncomfortable. Not long ago he had been a wanted man in Bluehaven and had fled to avoid capture. Now he was here in the royal palace in the company of members of the royal family. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and looked everywhere except at the prince and the queen.
Grimmaldo looked at ease in his yellow robes. She liked the young mage. He made her laugh with his sense of fun. He did not talk much about his family, but she understood he came from Frind, in the far north, and that his family had been well off merchants.
Many guests sat on chairs assembled around small tables surrounding the dance floor. From what Thadora could hear, most were discussing the missing duke.
Footmen strolled around the room with glasses of wine and fruit juice.
All the members of Wolf chose to drink fruit juice, although Basalt exclaimed he would have preferred a good glass of dwarf spirits.
Thadora watched Fero as he looked sharply at the dwarf. “Bas, this is not the place for drinking dwarf spirits, nor any other strong drink. You know what happens when you start.”
“And you’ve never got drunk with me, ranger?” He glanced at Randa and Almoro. “I would have thought this was a perfect time for you to get drunk.”
Fero shook his head. “No, friend. It would spoil her day. That I will not do. I will, however, get blind drunk with you tonight. And perhaps tomorrow, too.”
I think that the title of this book is misleading. I thought it would be set in the country of Greenland, but it is set in Minnesota. I think that the Greenland refers to the growth of plants turning everything green. Perhaps if Mr Marsh had called it The Green Land Diaries, it would have been better.
Blurb
“It began with a drum. Then the monsters came. I’ve been hiding ever since.”
The following collections of journals were recovered from a caravan outside of Duluth, Minnesota. The exact date of recovery is not known nor is the origin of the speaker. The Bureau for the Restoration of History (BFRH) would like help in identifying the man who kept these records. This unedited record of events is still considered the most accurate history of the apocalypse that occurred on April 15th, 2011.
Story
Something came. The writer of the diaries calls them the Unnamed. Every night a drum sounds all night long, and then come the Unnamed. They seem to be intent on wiping out humankind. They search for them and tear them to pieces but they themselves are wispy and no-one can see their faces.
Accompanying them is a growth of vines that cover and wreck everything.
This is the story of how one man escaped from them. Sadly, though, it is all rather samey. There is an increase in the pace towards the end, though, and a few questions were asked, but none were answered. I feel that even in a series, there should be some sort of closure at the end.
There are 4 books in the series, and I don’t think I can manage to go through 4 books in order to discover what the Unnamed are and where they came from. (Besides, the ebook is rather expensive at £4.33)
Characters
This mainly revolves around one man—the writer of the diaries. His character is rather flat, and he doesn’t change much throughout the book. There are a few other characters. An old man called Gerald, whom the protagonist becomes friends with, a young boy called Timothy who is not what he seems, and an older man called Francis, who is also an enigma.
The best character is the protagonist’s little dachshund, called Snowy. (Yes, it’s an odd name for a brown dog, but it is explained in the story.)
Writing
The writing is not good. There is an overuse of the word ‘just’, which to me screams Amateur. Far too many superfluous prepositions, and many spelling mistakes. (scrapping instead of scraping, for example.) Mr Marsh also uses wrong words in some places and does not know when to use ‘lay’, and when to use ‘lie’. Some people might be able to ignore these things, but I find it grates and spoils my reading experience.
Conclusion
This book could have been shorter. If the others are the same, then, with the elimination of the superfluous words and speeding up the action, it could probably have been fitted into three books and be a better read. The premise is good, and this book could be excellent and very scary, but the writing lets it down.
I give it only 2*
Have you read this book? If you have , I would be interested in your thoughts about it. There are quite a number of positive reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. How much does the writing matter?
Leave your comments in the comments box, please.
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Maria and her husband, Jack, have moved into an old cottage. They want to furnish it with period furniture and buy a medieval table.
That’s when the mystery begins. Strange sounds in the night. Have they bought a haunted house? But a medium tells them it is not a ‘lost spirit’, but something else she does not recognise.
What is it that is causing them to lose sleep? The answer is more unexpected than anyone thought.
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