It's Character Madness Monday
Variety is the spice of life so we're going to change things up again
Today we're introducing
Australian Author
Ellen Mae Franklin
(Carol March)
Tolor stretched and lay back against the gate by the meadow and watched as Selene trotted toward him.
"What are you doing Tolor? This is Character Madness Monday. Shouldn't you be at the cottage getting ready for your interview?"
Tolor sighed. "No, there were too many characters to choose from so I decided to showcase this Authors stories instead."
"What's her name?"
"Sounds like fun."
"Here is the Author's story from her own hand."
As a fantasy writer, I am self-indulgent in the belief that anything is possible in the writing world. Dark, epic and high fantasy is where I dwell, so grab onto your seats, settle down with a cuppa or two and lose yourself in the worlds I have created.
Born in Adelaide, South Australia I am a mother, a social media mavern and an author who indulges in fantasy. You will find me on a plethora of social networking sites, from Twitter and Facebook to RebelMouse, Goodreads, Linkedin and Pinterest. I love social media and love to connect with my readers via the various platforms.
"There is more," Tolor tells Selene, but we'll come back to that. Isn't she pretty?"
Selene folds her arms and huffs. "Always chasing the girls. Interview Tolor."
"Alright! Alright!"
"Here are some of her Novels."
Selene sidled. "What awesome artwork."
"And here are the books in the Tarkeenia series."
Synopsis
The struggle between God and man, magic and indefinable evil is without recourse.
Roedanth wants his brother back, it doesn’t matter that the boy is dead; the young copper apprentice can’t seem to stop wishing. Tainted by the magic of the Dark God – Drakite, tragedy and pain follows Roedanth all the way from Crows Nest to the Halls of Coowic, where the Magi live.
Tarkeenia is awash with life - man and beast live side by side. Monsters hunt the shadows looking for a bite to eat. The tip of balance between dark and light, good and evil is tenuous, even on a good day. Flesh eating Specks turn the living into dust, and the world is no longer safe. Murrdocks, are a child’s story, woven tales told to enchant and incite fear. Their King lays dying, and Prince Pec having no choice, must turn myth into reality.
Strangers become friends, out of necessity more than compatibility for survival takes on the order of the day. Uneasy alliances are tainted by betrayal and self gain, and unlikely heroes emerge to salvage what they can from a world on the brink of chaos.
Everyone strives to make do in a world bubbling with wild magic, working to remain true to their Calling, as the lives of man and monster hang in the balance, subject to the whims of Gods. Can Tarkeenia survive the tug and pull of the very spoilt, and the very wicked? Can those lost to the dark find a way back to the light? Is it possible to forget, or to forgive and begin again? All these questions and more are answered as the reader walks Tarkeenia’s many paths.
Excerpt: Shivering didn’t help but nor did it interfere with what was required of him. Handing the skull cup to the Dark Lord was the only duty he had. He just wanted to see out the day, have a birthday or two more if he was lucky, and after that, if it was time - die. All he had known was blood and tears, hurt and the darkness, for he had been born in the Halls of Abeleaque.
Bones cracked as Drakite stood up from his grotesque throne; he flung the skull bone at the waiting slave. The skull shattered as it hit the human, imbedding shards of bone into his thin chest and he gasped for air. Fighting for his last breath, he whispered, "I can see the light!"
Angered now, the Dark God strode the corridors. His motivation was pure, driven by the hate he felt for everything living. He had created a paradox for himself by placing humans on Tarkeenia. Notably, it fed his loathing for all living things but the aggravation in having them exist at all set his anger on a permanent edge. Reaching the door, a red, shimmering thing, Drakite kicked it open and stepped through. Everything here was an illusion; it was always what he wanted it to be and more.
The mirror flickered and then solidified. The scene before him only heightened his fury. Magdeline stood over the one he had chosen, a slim young man whose adoration for the hovering malcontent stirred an uneasiness that he rarely felt. She was threatening his plans; he knew what was in her heart, for she carried a small measure of him there. Hate and murder was her lover now. This he understood.
He did what he always did. He went against every rule, every decree and did what he did best. Drakite also slipped into Roedanth’s mind as a sliver of reflected madness. The Dark God sat, eager and ready.
SynopsisThe struggle between God and man, magic and indefinable evil is without recourse.
Roedanth wants his brother back. Hasn’t he sold his soul with a promise to Drakite, the Dark God in a desperate attempt to raise Peetra from his grave? There can be no going back and then he fell in love.
Kitty has been caught, taken to the Halls and is now a prisoner of the Magi. A prize by some and an unwilling pawn by others, her life now hangs in the balance.
Pellimac is mad having suffered at the hands of Father, the Speck and is a guest of the Machobe Dwarves. Will their skill in healing be her saviour? Then she met Hi’ayman, the son who she had been separated from and the madness for a sweet minute abates. Is she finally home?
Ro’Breare, the hateful mage and the Murrdock Rhino, Boallag have made a deal. He wants the throne and the traitorous mage wants revenge. How could it get any better?
Kahlu is a schemer and he fancies the High Councilors seat. Nicknamed the peacock this magi uses whatever he has at hand to get what he wants, blackmail and threats, but is he smart enough to pull it off?
Sometimes the most unlikely strangers can become friends. Prince Pec and his companion Guventher arrive at the Halls, it seems that the Murrdocks are not myths after all. Their King is dying and they are in need of help. Everyone is shocked to hear that Ro’Breare is running with Specks as he leaves a trail of death and destruction where ever he goes.
Tarmet grieves as her husband, Taros, King of the Murrdocks lay dying from a burning sickness.
Everyone strives to make do in a world bubbling with wild magic, working to remain true to their Calling, as the lives of man and monster hang in the balance, subject to the whims of Gods. Can Tarkeenia survive the tug and pull of the very spoilt, and the very wicked? Can those lost to the dark find a way back to the light? Is it possible to forget, or to forgive and begin again? All these questions and more are answered as the reader walks Tarkeenia’s many paths.
Excerpt: Her struggling slowed, eventually ceasing altogether. She was a bundle of bones and rags that he pulled along after him. Scraping and bruising her already ravaged body, they continued in the dark. Pellimac occasionally whimpered, but for the better part, shock kept her silent. Father tried, crooning affectionate clicks and clacks at her joyous return, but it only terrified her more.
Rats fled the pair. Even the darkness seemed to shy away in the face of Father’s fanatical headlong rush. She was his again! Hours passed, and the jubilant Speck and the stunned nomad woman stopped. His bony fingers clenched Pellimac’s wrist so tightly that smudges of black already rising to the surface of her skin held the promise of blood red rings. Deep in the inky murk, a part still pure and intact screamed at the loss of the sky and open earth. She wept. Her cries excited Father as she dragged in lungsful of air in between loud sobs.
Pulling her by the hair, Father dragged his prize down corridors, past grainy streams peppered with gold and gravel, over spillways flowing with unsullied water, until at last, with a clack and a pop, they entered Hi’ayman’s chambers. Dazed and disorientated, Pellimac stared dumbly ahead. A vague memory rose up, threatening to choke her airways. Another place similar to this, where she had once endured fear and pain, broke through her shattered mind. The deprivation and the loneliness, the cruel nightmares, were old friends.
The trace of human lingered upon this room. A bed and all the bowls of water scattered about the floor signaled familiarity. She did what she did best, and waited.
Father sat silent alongside his love. Her stillness soothed his racing heart and helped to lessen the insatiable hunger gnawing painfully in his bloated belly. Who could doubt his yearnings now? He could feel her trembling. The salty sweat that sheathed her skin and sweet memories caressed him with feelings of the past. A loud sniff sent Pellimac to moaning, and caught up in the excitement of her fear, the monster bit into her shoulder. It wasn't a hard bite, more like a nip, but it broke the skin. Blood so sweet welled to the surface, and he licked it away in a lover's bliss.
Synopsis
The struggle between God and man, magic and indefinable evil is without recourse.
What has gone before!
Roedanth wants his brother back, it doesn’t matter that the boy is dead; he was given a promise. But a promise is just a promise until it gets broken. New friends, the dream of an army and revenge has him plotting in Shard.
Kendrai and Hi’ayman realize they are in fact, kinsmen trapped in the dark and waiting for what will come next. Flesh eating Specks salivate in the passageway just beyond and Ro’Breare the traitor plots ruination for all.
Drakite and Emanon have struck a deal, but will the Dark God hold true to his word, even with his brother the Wind God.
Tarmat is dead and Taros is missing, the Lion Queen is a hop and a jump from becoming Lott’s guest, or is she. The realm of Kinaloch is in an uproar: Boallag has a price on everyone’s head for he wants the crown, and everything else that goes with it.
The Halls of Coowic are in ruins and Pubbula runs mad, for Rani, his love is dead. Vengeance is high on the list and Litila, the Forest Fey begins the hunt, vowing to see Roedanth’s head on a spike.
Pec holds court in Doggit’s house: has the mercenary captain switched sides?
Everyone strives to make do in a world bubbling with wild magic, working to remain true to their Calling, as the lives of man and monster hang in the balance, subject to the whims of Gods. Can Tarkeenia survive the tug and pull of the very spoilt, and the very wicked? Can those lost to the dark find a way back to the light? Is it possible to forget, or to forgive and begin again? All these questions and more are answered as the reader walks Tarkeenia’s many paths.
Excerpt: Being cold, so very bloody cold wasn’t that bad. Going hungry was much worse and since Quaverit wasn’t very good at begging, he went hungry a lot. What did he know of doing it right? All the other beggars laughed when he took his place on the corner. They laughed, so hard, that quite often, it drew a crowd. An ugly meanly-mouth bunch of other beggars, seasoned from their years of privation. He couldn’t help looking like a plucked chook, than the elegant Stork he was supposed to be.
It was a punishment. The plucking of every feather on his body, head and tail feathers gone, and the pain! Well, let’s just say, he had only recently stopped crying.
He could forgive the painful act itself, even if the Hyena Men had relished their duties a little too eagerly, but the humiliation he suffered each time he left the safety of his cubbyhole, would never he forgotten. The once proud chamberlain was reduced to sitting on the side of a smelly gutter, holding out his hands for the odd copper to pass his way. Glumly listening to his moaning stomach, as it screamed for a bite to eat.
Boallag had at least had let him keep his uniform. In fact, it seemed rather important, that the Stork Man was tossed out on his ear wearing the fine clothes. It was a message he had warned the skinny Murrdock.
‘This act of mercy will show other traitors that are stuck fast to a false crown, what will happen if you betray the Rhino!” The hulking brute had snorted spittle and globs of foul muck in his face. Right through the tears and wheezing pleas as Quaverit suffered the indignation of losing his post.
But, that was weeks ago, and since then, he had been forced to scrounge in The Digs, side by side with all the other unfortunate ingrates in Kinaloch’s slums. His memory of those first days caused him to hiccup. If it hadn’t been for the help of an elderly female Bear Murrdock, half blind and itching with mange – he would have most certainly died.
And let’s face it the nights were no better. Georgette’s screams gave him nightmares, sweats so bad that his skin itched. Kailen’s apprentice had held out when he couldn’t, she was a brave soul and worthy of the Royal’s love. But not him, his confession gave Boallag a chance at the crown. Stupid, stupid, stupid, why couldn’t he have kept his beak mouth shut?
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"Pretty awesome, huh?" Tolor said peering up at Selene.
"Totally, Is there more?"
"Yes!"
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The Un-Named Chronicles is a collaborative work from Australian Author Ellen Mae Franklin and Pete M. Emmerson.
Synopsis
The use of Magic is forbidden…
The Un-Named, the magic wielders are loathed, reviled and feared for being different: forced to hide from constantly searching eyes, from the eyes of those who would strive to expose them to The Render. As the Un-Named struggle to acquire their rightful position in a world that has hated and persecuted them for centuries, a fearsome danger escapes from its five hundred year old prison. Two extraordinary companions begin a journey to discover the origin of the strange phenomena that is allowing wild magic to leak into the world, but they aren’t the only ones who are interested in the source.
The world is under threat of total destruction and only through the powers of magical arts, can it be saved and protected.
But the use of Magic is forbidden….
“The Use of Magic is Forbidden!”
The saga continues: exposing an even greater threat!
The question must now be asked
Is The Use of Magic still forbidden?
The Un-named face a harrowing realization that without each of them steadfast in a union not of their own choosing, being forced to work together despite adversity, then the world they know will undoubtedly become lost.
Ripped apart by an evil that not only threatens their way of life but even their very existence stands in question.
Together they must lay aside vengeance and honour to face what really matters. Putting aside grief to strive in the making of a new power, the magic users of Arinthol united vowing to overcome this new exigency.
We might fight and fall, but know; we shall rise again
A Dark Compendium
12 Dark Short Stories
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"Where can I connect with her or buy her books?"Selene asked?
Tolor smiled. "Any of the places listed below, dear."
"Okay then, I'll be on my way. Don't be out too late, Tolor."
"I'll be right there."
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