M. LEON SMITH ON HORROR AND HEROISM

 

HORROR AND HEROISM

 

BY

 

 

M. LEON SMITH

 

 

 

Hi, M., so glad you could make it for a few days. Tell us, what kind of stories do you really write?

 

 

“What sort of stories do you write?” is a question authors are commonly asked. For quite some time it was a question I had a hard time answering. “Bits of this and that,” I would answer. Hardly, I think you would agree, a great answer. Luckily for me, the answer was supplied by a reviewer on Amazon…

 



Suddenly I was an author of supernatural and natural horror and I was quite comfortable with the definition. Certainly a lot of my earlier published work fell squarely into that category and, when I collected my published stories into ‘Olverston Grange …and Other Stories’ , I certainly had no qualms about describing it as horror.

As I was learning my trade I had produced a body of work that included the expected horror icons of ghosts, vampires and zombies which covers the supernatural… but what the natural? I had tales of a hen-pecked husband, a child who is scared of the dark and a host of deeply personal poetry and I swear there’s penguins too!

There is something deeply satisfying about supplying the reader with a scare. One review even stated ‘This is an anthology that will touch on fears you may not even know you have.’ And that gave me a sense of intense satisfaction. Being an author is as much about touching a reader as it is about giving freedom to the stories that rampage around your head.

\Countless times a day, I see or hear something that just has to appear in a story. I also have ‘What if?’ moments that lead to a story and, I must admit, when I am having a bad day then a character is a story is going to have a very bad day. Sometimes I even feel bad for them, a fictional being that sprang from my own mind. One such put-upon character is Tim Hewitson.

Tim is the hero of the first of my Blue Jackets series, ‘Induction’. During a rough phase in my life, Tim was born. I was particularly cruel to this young man. He is bullied at school, unhappy at home, and lives with what he has been told is a disability. He is granted his greatest wish when he finds out his condition is a superpower. Then life gets really hard!

I find myself wondering if giving my characters such a hard time is cathartic, that I’m somehow exorcising my own demons or whether I’m just being mean! I also wonder if other authors feel the same thing or whether I’m reading too much into things (excuse the pun).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 In part two of Blue Jackets, ‘Growth Spurt’, I was initially just as mean to our heroine, Lydia. However, by the end of the second part, I made sure she got her greatest wish and all her dreams came true. This marked a change in direction for me, instead of just tormenting a hapless character, I gave them a reward, a pay-off for the pain they put up with.

 

 

 

 

This was taken to further lengths in third part of the series, ‘Thursday’s Child’ in which we see Tuesday, who has had her powers from birth and is well adjusted with them, happy if fact. Her life is one of adventure and travel, one which fulfils her wanderlust and gives her a sense of purpose before throwing her into a huge problem whilst in Paris.

Underneath the tales of horror and heroism, there is another story. One of an author dealing with his own fears. I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2009 and, almost overnight, became a wheelchair user. The fear of what had happened is most prevalent in ‘Scared’ which features in ‘Olverston Grange …and Other Stories’ and my acceptance of what has happened to me has, inevitably, coloured the stories I have written. I hope this is evident and mostly I hope you enjoy anything you read by me.



 

M. Leon Smith was born just outside of Newcastle-upon-Tyne and grew up in the rural North-East. Ever since reading ‘The Lord of the Rings’ at the age of eight he wanted to be a writer. It took until 2009 (some twenty-odd years later!) for him to actually chase the dream.

The second manuscript he submitted was published and he hasn’t looked back since. He is currently published by Books To Go Now and Skinned Knuckle Books.

Outside of his passion for literature, he is consumed by his love of music.

Links to find out more:

 

Facebook: www.facebook.co/MLeonSmith and www.facebook.com/TheBlueJackets

Twitter: @GeordieWriter

His own website: www.mleonsmith.com

His Amazon page: http://www.amazon.com/M.-Leon-Smith/e/B0049STLL8

 

Great post, M. I like the covers.

Folks, leave a comment for M, we'd love to hear from you,

 

 

 

 

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? JANE RICHARDSON ASKS.

Hello, Jane,
Welcome to my blog. It's so nice to have you here. This is a book that intrigues me. As I posted, I read. It's definitely on my TBB list.

But first, tell us,

Who Do You Think You Are?

 Have you ever thought about just how many different people you really are?

We’re all quite capable of having multiple personalities.  We do it every day.  When you think about it, we all behave in different ways, not just in the different situations we find ourselves in, but depending on the people we’re with.  We pull different aspects of our personalities to the fore, depending on who we’re spending time with.  In essence, we become different people. 

How do you behave with your friends?  What about the one who’s quiet, thoughtful, considers a situation carefully before she forms and opinion or makes a decision.  Do you find yourself more likely to behave the same way when you’re with her?  The quieter, more considered ‘you’ takes over.

What about that zany, life’s-a-party friend?  Nothing seems to bother her, and she turns every possible negative into a positive, with flags on!  How much of that rubs off on you, and do you behave the same way with her?  Your own party spirit comes to the fore. 

Then there’s the friend who’s a great deal older and far more experienced than you.  You’re always asking for advice, learning from her stories.  You’re the pupil to her teacher.

Think about how are you with the other people you meet every day.  Children, perhaps your own kids and those of other people.  Colleagues and co-workers, strangers on the bus to work.  What about the assistant in the shop where you have a complaint, or the bank official who’ll decide whether or not you’ll get that loan?  We’d never behave exactly the same way with all of them.  So we bring forward different parts of our characters, put them on like a set of clothes, and become the person we need to be in any given situation. 

BUT, at the heart of it all, deep inside – you’re still you.  That spark of who you are, that little flame that burns deep inside that lets you know you’re still the same Jane at heart, or the same Lorrie, or the Mary, Polly or Susan.  That little spark of You-Ness, your individuality, is always there - thank goodness!

Now let’s go one step further, and then another.

First of all, imagine you’re in a situation where you have to be one of those other people all of the time.  Only when you’re completely alone can you let go of Party Girl, or Miss Quiet, or The Expert.  Hard work, huh?  You bet!

Now let’s add something else to the mix.  Now, while you’re being that other person, let’s suppose something really big, really momentous, happens to you.  Something like - falling in love.

For a moment, all you want to do is throw off that other personality and follow your true heart, that little spark of You-Ness.  But you can’t.

You can’t, because if you did – you’d be dead.

So what do you do?  Here’s what you do.  You do nothing.  You have to let it go.  And though it hurts to the quick, you’ve no choice.  Let it go.

This idea of having to be someone else so completely and utterly someone that’d you’d have to give of something as important as your shot at real love is one that fascinated me so much, I incorporated it into the story that became A Different Kind of Honesty.  When FBI Agent Tony Valentino is working deep undercover, one slip that reveals who he truly is means he’ll won’t survive.  One mistake, and he’s a dead man.  Then he meets Maggie Lawless, and he knows – he just knows- that she’s the one.  But he can’t tell her.  Like we said earlier, he has no choice but to let her go.  Pretend she never happened.

Is that the end of the story?  Of course not.  I’ll leave you with a short excerpt from A Different Kind of Honesty.  I hope it’ll make you want to read more.

Keep that little spark burning!

 

 

 

 

EXCERPT

“I don’t know how you did it,” Maggie said. “I mean, the name and everything, for all that time. Being someone else.” She glanced away and a look he couldn’t identify crossed her face. Confusion, perhaps? Anxiety. “Were you someone else?”

Tony thought hard, shook his head. “I don’t think so…not entirely.” He rubbed a finger across his brow. “It was like being both, me and him, all at the same time. Him on the outside, me on the inside.” He looked out across the room to the lights of New York, wondering. He’d never thought of it before, the way she’d asked, at least not coherently. “And you know what?” he said, still staring out of the window. “That was fine. Until one day something happened and I started to hate that name.”

Her voice was no more than a whisper. “What happened?”

“I met you,” he said simply. “I met you and I wanted to tell you everything. What I was doing, who I was. All of it.”

Maggie lowered her head and made a little stifled sound, a release of something. “But you couldn’t.”

“No.”

Tony closed his eyes, remembering that chilly fall morning. The cream and gold corridor outside her hotel room, her kiss still hot on his mouth as he started to walk away from her door. Something stopping him; a fine, invisible chain unravelling behind him and snapping him back, strained and taut. He’d slumped against the wall, his eyes running over the stupid over-elaborate plaster cornice that roped along the edge of the ceiling like frosting on a wedding cake. His fists bunched hard to his sides, pressing down as if he could push himself down through the floor, down into the earth till he had nowhere else to go but up, screaming the truth. The physical effort he’d made to stop himself from banging on the door and telling her everything, just to hear her say his real name over and over as they made love. When he pushed himself off the wall, the heel of his shoe had left a dirty half-moon on the flock paper.

He opened his eyes. He was still here in her room and she was there, quiet and unmoving. Just waiting; giving him his time, his space.

“No one knew everything,” he said. “Not my supervisor or the men I was with. Not my wife, my family. Only I knew it all and it filled me up, but it was okay. I was sorta big enough to hold it all, you know?” He lifted his beer to his lips, but changed his mind and put it down. “And then...you. You happened and that was somehow too big for me. I needed you to know it all too. I wanted you to have the truth.”

Behind him, Dinah began a new song. “EmbraceableYou.” Maggie moved toward him and set her glass on the counter beside his beer. She touched her fingertips to his face.

“I can have it now.”

Taking the half step that brought him close enough to lean his forehead on hers, Tony laid his hand over her fingers on his cheek; her mouth so close her light, hesitant breath brushed his lips.

“Maggie,” he said quietly, and felt her breathe in. “Six months…six months of dreaming about you, thinking I’d never see you again.” He slid his hand behind her head, the scent of her hair the same as before of roses, and something rich and heavy he couldn’t name. He buried his face in it, filling himself with her.

“I thought it’d kill me. But now, it’s like I died and came back to life.”

“I didn’t even know your real name.” Her fingers rested lightly on his chest as her voice wrapped itself around his insides. “All that time, thinking of you as someone else.”

Tony touched a finger lightly to her lips, hoping against hope. “That’s just a figure of speech, right? All that time, thinking of me?”

Maggie looked up, and her eyes were full of something he recognized deep inside, something familiar he tried to name, but the word escaped him.

“No,” she whispered. “Not a figure of speech.”

As he kissed her, the word returned. It was something that had eluded him all his life except for one short, perfect night—the one thing he needed above anything else.  And he knew now, just as he’d known then, that she was his only source, she was the beginning and the end.

The word was ‘honesty.’

 

*Wow, as I said, intriguing. Give us a little more, please, Jane.*

 

BLURB

Always the one who ends relationships before they’ve barely begun, it’s way out of character for Maggie Lawless to take a risk with a man she hardly knows…the man she meets in a seedy New York City diner has a truth about him, a sincerity like no one she’s ever met before. Tony Valentino is an FBI agent fresh from a long-term undercover operation that’s left his life in tatters. His marriage over, separated from his children and with nowhere to call home, he’s frustrated and angry. All that keeps him going is the sweet memory of a brief encounter with a beautiful woman, though it wakes him from crazy dreams that leave his mouth dry and his sheets soaked with sweat. When he meets her again, it’s obvious the fire that burned so briefly between them never really went out...but as their affair rekindles, both Tony and Maggie find the very people they thought they could trust are the first to turn against them.

 

*All I can say is, wow again. Where can we find your book?*

 

A Different Kind of Honesty is available from Muse It Up Publishing and all major e-book retailers.

http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&product_id=431&flypage=flypage.tpl&pop=1&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1

Thanks so much for sharing with us today, Jane. I'm looking forward to reading this one.

Leave a comment for Jane Richardson folks.

We'd love to hear from you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MARY WAIBEL TODAY-- WITH A DIFFERENT TALE

Glad to have you back, Mary. I see you have something a little different for us today and it does sound like a fun read. How about you tell us a little about it?

Well, it's a reverse Sleeping Beauty tale where the princess goes on the quest to save the prince.

 

Princess Kaylee has never had to fight for anything. Her entire life has been arranged, even her marriage. But when Prince Devlin falls under an enchantment, she finds she is willing to do anything to save him, even if it means fighting a dragon.  

Devlin's own sister, Princess Arabella, is behind the deadly plot. She wants the throne 
and will use any means necessary to gain it. Her perfect plan unravels, leaving Devlin caught in a magical sleep that is slowly spreading through the kingdom of Breniera. All Arabella needs to finish her spell and claim the crown is a drop of Kaylee's blood,but obtaining the single drop is proving more difficult than expected.

 To save her betrothed, Kaylee embarks on a quest to find an ancient sword  
and gather a drop of dragon's blood, while trying to stay out of Arabella's traps. But Arabella's traps aren't the only danger. Time is everything. For once the last inhabitant of the kingdom falls asleep, the spell will be sealed, and not even true love's kiss will break it.

 

*

 

 

 

What a great cover, Mary. I love it. Can you give us an excerpt to whet our reading appitite?

 

 



“There’s nowhere to go, Princess,” Arabella said. “And don’t get any ideas, either. I can finish things just as easily with the hag’s daughter as I can with you.”

          “Kaylee, don’t listen to her. Only your blood will work, ” Sabrina yelled.

          “Silence, wench! Thaddeus, get Princess Kaylee and keep hold of her.”

          Kaylee started, so focused on Arabella she had missed the knight waiting at the edge of the stream. When he stepped into the water, she took a step backward, but his long arm caught hold of her and tugged her toward the bank. She considered struggling, but with his height and strength, it would be useless. Instead, she trudged to the shore, her mind whirling with plans to escape Arabella’s clutches.

          “Kaylee,” Sabrina said. “You must get away from here.”

          “I won’t leave you here with her. There’s no telling what she’ll do to you.”

          “Princess Arabella will not harm Sabrina,” Thaddeus said. “She has done nothing to warrant such action.”

          “I don’t have the same faith in your princess as you do,” Kaylee said. “Not after what she did to her brother.”

          “What she did?” Thaddeus asked.

          “Enough talk.” Arabella pressed the dagger closer to Sabrina’s neck, and glared at Kaylee.

          It was clear the knight had no inkling that Arabella was the most dangerous person in the area. If she could get him on her side, they might be able to leave unharmed.

          “Let her go, Arabella. I’m the one you want.” Kaylee held up her hands in surrender. She gave a low whistle, thankful Arabella didn’t seem to notice. Not knowing what animal ability the other princess possessed made it dangerous to be calling for help, but her options were sparse. Hopefully the birds still in the area were listening. A faint trill rose from below, and Kaylee felt hope spark to life.

          “Thaddeus is going to tie your hands, and you’re going to cooperate.” Arabella tipped her head toward Sabrina, a warning in her eyes. “Unless you would like your friend here to pay the price.”

          “Princess Kaylee will come peacefully,” Thaddeus said. “Why don’t you put that blade away before someone is injured?”

          “Why don’t you tie her up like I ordered?” Arabella snapped.

          Kaylee held her hands behind her back, whistling a longer melody, asking the birds to be ready, to wait for her command. She waited for the rope to bite into her flesh, but Thaddeus made it tight enough to restrain her yet loose enough to keep from chafing.

          “Kaylee, why didn’t you go? I’m not worth you losing Prince Devlin. You must finish the quest and save the prince.” Sabrina’s words ended on a whimper as Arabella dug the blade into her neck.

          “Sabrina!” Kaylee struggled against the bonds holding her. Thaddeus grabbed her shoulders, and she bucked against him, desperate to aid Sabrina.

          “She only nicked me,” Sabrina said.

          “But the spell. That means—”

          “No, Kaylee,” Sabrina said. “She has to have your blood to finish the spell. And it has to be on the special dagger, not this one.”

          “Are you suggesting Princess Arabella is working with you to ensorcell the prince?” Thaddeus asked.

          “No. I’m saying Princess Arabella is the one who be-spelled him to begin with. She needs my blood to finish the curse. A death curse.”

          “Princess? Is this true?” Thaddeus asked, and Kaylee prayed he could be swayed to their side.

          “Of course not. They’re just trying to deceive you so they can go free.”

          “Good sir knight. Were I to blame for the curse put upon Devlin, why would I be here at Paladin’s Sword when I could have been safely back in Palindore by now?”

          Thaddeus frowned. “I don’t know, but my princess has assured me she was not the one to harm her brother. That she saw you cast the spell on him. Why would she lie?”

          “Because the only way she can have the throne is if her brother is dead.” Kaylee blinked back tears at the thought.

          A clatter of rocks echoed around the clearing, and Kaylee felt Thaddeus stiffen. He stepped forward, sword in hand, relaxing his stance when Lady Deirdre and Lady Maeryn stumbled their way around the bend.

          “Well?” Maeryn asked, bending over at the waist and panting. “Have you finished the deed?”

          Arabella grumbled something, and the two girls paled.

          “W-We should have w-waited at the w-waterfall,” Deirdre whined. “Y-You d-didn’t n-need our h-help at all.”

          “I need you to watch the hag’s daughter while I finish things here,” Arabella said.

          “Maybe you should just throw it at her and be done with it,” Maeryn said.

          Arabella bent and pulled a dagger from her boot. Kaylee shuddered, certain this was the end. Devlin had bragged at how perfect his sister’s aim was, and now she would see it first hand.

          “Thaddeus! Bring her here.”

          Thaddeus didn’t move.

          “I won’t allow you to harm her. Your father’s orders were quite clear about that.”

          “I will do as I will with her.”

          Kaylee decided she had waited long enough. The knight was not going to believe her, and she wasn’t going to give Arabella a chance to use her for target practice. She whistled, and the air filled with birds.

          Arabella, Maeryn, and Deirdre shrieked. Thaddeus released Kaylee, waving at the birds as he rushed toward his princess as all good knights would.

          “Sabrina! Follow me!” Kaylee yelled as she stumbled up the path, her hands still bound behind her back.

          Chaos reigned by the stream. Thaddeus waved away the birds, but more swooped in. Maeryn and Deirdre screamed. Arabella gripped the dagger and glared at Kaylee.

          “Let me help you.” Sabrina grabbed Kaylee’s arm and tugged her up the path. Their only hope was to follow the path around the bend and pray there was a place to hide.

          “Don’t let her get away!” Arabella screeched.

***

 

Oh, that's a great excerpt. Now I'm going to have to read more.

 

Where can we find your books and  learn more about you?

 

 

MuseItUp Publishing:https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=620&category_id=6&manufacturer_id=292&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1

Amazon:http://www.amazon.com/Quest-Princess-Valendria-Novel-ebook/dp/B00CF3E8I0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366848813&sr=8-1&keywords=quest+of+the+hart

Barnes and Noble:http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/quest-of-the-hart-mary-waibel/1115148626?ean=2940016462110

Kobo:http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Quest-of-the-Hart/book-qCJJoGyBKkSZvKw0rJUB3Q/page1.html?s=lnE5zlLpvEmw5OBWJ6HTmA&r=1

 

And here's where you can find me on the web:

http://marywaibel.blogspot.com

https://www.facebook.com/authormarywaibel

@mewtweety14 (twitter)

 

Thank you for sharing your work with us, Mary. I hope you visit my blog again in the future.

And readers, I love comments. Please leave one for my guest. We'd like to hear from you.

 





 

 

HELLO THERE, MARVA DASEF, AND WELCOME BACK.

It really is nice to have you back, Marva.

I see you have your new novel to tell us about.

As you know, I have read it, and I can't say enough nice things about it. I'm a fan who hasn't missed reading any of your books. I love your imagination, the adventures and characters you conjure up. And I disagree on one item. This is not just for YA, I think readers of all ages will enjoy your novels. I certainly did.

So, my dear, settle back into that comfy chair and tell us all about your new one.

Hi back at ya, Lorrie. I think we're each other's biggest fans. Or at least loyal followers. I've answered some of the questions you've put to me in the form of a dialog. So here it goes.

Faizah’s Destiny begins as a story about an old man’s kidnapping and ends with a battle to save the world from Armageddon. Just the usual stuff.

(Lorrie) Where did the concept for the book (or books) come about?

(Marva) Another book, of course. I wanted to write a book about the eagle nesting site in Oregon’s Klamath Wildlife Preserves. The story had four main characters, all of them in the outcast category at their school. I wrote that book, a contemporary teen adventure set in the real world.

Then it occurred to me the same general plot could be set in a fantasy world. Why not, eh? The eagle becomes a simurgh, the teens are middle-eastern, the old man is a retired park ranger. But I added the elements of Persian gods and demons. The Mars-like god of war, Dev, becomes the villain in the plot and, being a god, he has to be far more badass than the eagle poachers in the original book. Anyway, in my study of Persian mythology, I came up with the additional characters and a storyline using the myth of the Simurgh.

(Lorrie) How long did it take you to finish, from concept to final product?

(Marva) Since I wrote two books instead of one, it took twice as long. How long was it? I really have no idea. Let’s say a year and call it good.

(Lorrie) What do you do for fun other than writing?

(Marva) Who said writing was fun? My husband and I just got back from a European trip covering six countries. We’re looking forward to more travel in the future, so I’d call that our main source of fun. Otherwise, having our granddaughters come to visit (only a couple of times a year, alas) is the most fun thing we both love.

(Lorrie) If you could time travel (accompanying Doctor Who in the Tardis, of course) to any point in history, when/where would it be and why?

(Marva) Hm. Good question. I’ve written two books based in the ancient middle-east, so I’d go with a grand tour of the pre-Islamic middle-east. I’d like to hear the storytellers in the market, shop for flying rugs, and ride flying horses. That’s not exactly real history, but I’d love to think it was.

(Lorrie) Here are some random questions. Answer briefly.

• Do you secretly want to write another genre, but don't think you can do it?
  I have written Science Fiction, but mostly space opera. I wish I had the education to write hard science fiction. I love to read it.

• Plotter or pantser?
  Plotter with pantsing going on throughout the process. I’m always being left with my pants down.

• Favorite movie of all time?
  Raiders of the Lost Ark. It’s got everything I love: history, fantasy, adventure, laughs, Harrison Ford. What’s not to like?

(Lorrie) Ahem. Seems like you’re falling apart here. How about an excerpt to tantalize the readers?

(Marva) Breathes sigh of relief at not answering anymore questions. You bet!

Excerpt

Once more the two sides came together with a rending crash. Once more, weapons rose and fell. And once more, Menog and monsters died. Faizah fired as fast as she could draw her bow. No need to aim now, the press of slashing, clawing creatures was too thick. Her quiver never ran out of arrows.

Dev raised his hands, and more creatures appeared, clambering down the cliffs to join the battle. Slowly, the line of Menog lost ground, forced back by the ever-growing horde.

Faizah began to despair as the Menog line was pushed back. Then, she heard the clash of horses’ hooves on stone behind her. She whirled, bow drawn, ready to let fly at this new threat, when she realized the lead rider was none other than Master Wafai. Three raiders followed close behind him, and she turned her bow toward the first man.

Wafai shouted, “No, Faizah! These are friends!”

“Master Wafai! Thank the heavens you’re here! Bahaar and Parvaiz are under a spell. They’re fighting against the Menog.”

Wafai pulled his horse to a stop beside Faizah. Standing in the stirrups, he looked across the battle lines to where Parvaiz and Bahaar drove the hordes of Dev’s creatures against the Menog. The magician closed his eyes, raised his hands, and began to murmur.

Faizah shot a quick glance up at Dev, who seemed not to notice them. The war god was engrossed in the battle below. She turned back to Wafai, wondering what he would do. Faizah had no illusions about Master Wafai’s abilities. She knew combat spells would be beyond him. Suddenly, she had an idea.

“Master Wafai! A clarifying spell! Cast a clarifying spell!”

His concentration broken, the magician looked at her with a puzzled frown. Then he grinned. “Clever girl!” he shouted. Turning back to the battle, he chanted the spell.

A gentle wind blew from Wafai, clearing the air where it passed. As the spell moved over the Menog, they backed up a step, pulling Harib along behind their shield wall. It was a simple thing, the clarity spell, easy to cast and known by every village magician. It was used to rid the air of dust after a sandstorm. The spell not only cleared the air, it also dispelled illusions and restored clouded minds. Master Wafai sent the spell out over the battlefield toward Bahaar and Parvaiz.

As the spell washed over the two boys, they froze. Faizah ran forward and pushed between two Menog warriors to confront them. “Look at me!” she commanded, grabbing each boy by the front of his tunic. “Now!”

The boys stared at her, eyes unfocused. Parvaiz slowly raised his scimitar to strike. Faizah didn’t flinch but stared hard at Bahaar, willing him to respond to her. Bahaar began to tremble. His eyes widened, and he reached out and grabbed Parvaiz’s arm before the sword could fall.

“Stop fighting! Dev has tricked you! Stop fighting now!” she shouted, hoping she was getting through to Parvaiz but concentrating on Bahaar. She hoped their long friendship would make him more likely to pay attention to what she said.

The two boys looked around with dazed eyes. Their swords fell to their sides. Without the two humans to direct them, Dev’s monsters milled about aimlessly. Many of them wandered off to the cracks in the cliff that spawned them.

On the cliff above them, Dev roared his anger as he realized what was happening. He raised his sword and swept it over the battlefield, gesturing with a clawed hand at his forces below. He was too late. The god of war and destruction howled with impotent rage as his army crept away. The two humans he had counted on to carry forward the battle were standing still, halted by that meddlesome girl.

* * *

FAIZAH'S DESTINY

The gods are at war and only a farmer’s daughter can save the world from Armageddon.

MuseItUp (all ebook formats): http://tinyurl.com/faizahsdestiny

Also available at Amazon, B&N, Nook, and other on-line stores. Check my blog for an on-going link list of buy sites.

Blurb:

The village magician has gone missing. His four pupils think he has left a clue to his whereabouts in the Magicalis Bestialis--the book of magical creatures. They must seek the help of the elusive Simurgh, the mythical birds who know all the secrets of the universe.

However, this is not an easy camping trip into the mountains. Spirits, gods, and demons confront the four friends, who are not aware they’re being set up by otherworldly forces for a much larger task.

A farmer’s daughter, Faizah is chosen to lead the humans in the battle. She must persuade a slave, an orphan, and a rich merchant’s son to join in the battle on the side of good. Although divided by Dev, the evil god of war, the teens must band together to find the Simurgh, rescue their teacher, and stave off Armageddon.

Bio:

Marva Dasef lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two ungrateful cats. Retired from thirty-five years in the software industry, she has now turned her energies to writing fiction and finds it a much more satisfying occupation. Marva has published more than forty stories in a number of on-line and print magazines, with several included in Best of anthologies. She has several published books, including six since 2011 with MuseItUp Publishing.

Website: https://sites.google.com/site/mdasefMarva/home

Blog: http://mgddasef.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/MarvaDasef

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/?tab=wX#107073845875601488093/posts

Twitter Handle: @Gurina

Book Trailers: http://www.youtube.com/user/MarvaDasef/videos

Ha, ha, that was fun. Let's do this again real soon.
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