Another "Postcard From Mordania"

Dive

            It was late summer, almost a year since Kaymar had come to The Shadows.

Both children had grown enormously in that time. Kaymar had stopped taking part in their games early, realizing they needed as normal a childhood as possible despite being continually watched. That did not include an adult playmate.

Instead he watched over them from various vantage points, tending to prefer being up a tree or on a wall. It gave him better visual range to see possible danger. It also gave him the advantage, should someone try to assault the children, of dropping down on them from above.

            Kaymar had hoped that, like Menders, he would grow a few inches in early adulthood, but at nineteen there was absolutely no sign of that happening. He had remained stubbornly five feet, four inches since the age of seventeen.

What he disliked the most about being small was not the disadvantage it gave him in a physical confrontation. Kaymar was so skilled at any form of fighting that his size didn’t handicap him greatly. His annoyance was his feet stubbornly refusing to grow into men’s sizes, hovering just at the brink of maturity but never edging over the magic mark that made it easy to find shoes in keeping with his age.

He’d resigned himself to having his shoes custom made. That went for suits as well, as he couldn’t abide wearing trousers that had been taken up. The proportions never looked right when eight inches had to be cut off the bottom of the legs.

            So, he was wearing a brand-new suit and pair of custom made shoes, in anticipation of going into the village with a few of the Men, who made a point of getting away once a month for a dinner, a little dancing and romancing. Kaymar had become a peripheral part of this group. Though not particularly close to any of the other men, he was welcome. He didn’t romance the local girls, though he flirted a bit and he loved to dance.

            He tensed as Katrin stood suddenly. She’d been through an enormous growth spurt during the summer and was not accustomed to her new height. She tended to get tangled in her new leg length and fell frequently. Much frustrated by this clumsy stage, she said “faw” a lot.

            She kept her balance this time and crouched back down over the crude pirate map she and Hemmett were constructing, with many arguments and “faws”, which meant the pirates were swearing. Kaymar relaxed and let his mind roam again.

            He’d hoped his recent conversation with Ifor Trantz might have led to a confidential friendship, but it hadn’t. Ifor maintained a friendly but distinct distance. There were times Kaymar regretted having confided in the huge man, though the relief he’d gained through that confession was considerable. Ifor was pleasant when they encountered each other, but treated Kaymar no differently than he did the other men, with reserve and courtesy.

Both Kaymar and Ifor moved on the periphery of Menders’ Men, not quite part of the group. It might have brought other men together as friends but Ifor Trantz was not one for such things. He seemed most content with his books, codes, work, hunting and fishing. Even when Kaymar was having a swim in the same part of the river he was suspended over now, with Ifor fishing not far downstream, it was as if he was alone. Ifor simply got on with his casting and fussing with his lures, while Kaymar got on with his swimming. If Kaymar approached Ifor directly, he would answer and be pleasant enough, but it was obvious any friendship because they were both nancy was simply not going to be.

            “Ants!” Katrin squealed. “Ants, Bumpy!”

            She stood quickly, swatting at the backs of her legs, overbalanced and fell off the big rock headfirst.

            “Stay there, Hemmett!” Kaymar shouted as he launched himself from his branch before Katrin hit the water. He’d seen the little boy ready to plunge in after his friend. One thing Kaymar couldn’t handle was two drowning children.

            He hit the water just after Katrin but she’d gone to the bottom like a stone as her little dress and petticoats floated up over her head, pinning her arms to her sides. She normally swam like a fish. Menders had taught both children to swim early, knowing that with a lake and a river nearby, the day would come where that knowledge was needed.

            The coldness of the water, even in late summer, felt like a stomach punch. He forced his eyes open, looking for Katrin. He could see her, wildly struggling in the wet folds of her dress, her face frantic and darkening. Any moment she would have to breathe.

            Kaymar swam forward, ignoring the weight of his suit and shoes, grabbed her, then kicked hard for the surface. The current here, even in this quiet hole, was intense. He was fearful that Katrin would lose consciousness before he reached the surface with her, inhale and let the water into her lungs.

            Holding her above his head, he kicked harder and faster.

He felt her break the surface, heard the loud whoop of inrushing breath, then broke the surface himself, gasping and choking on water he’d inhaled.

            Hemmett was lying full length on the rock, holding a large tree limb out over the surface of the pool, shouting to them to grab on. Kaymar blessed the little boy, his precocious size and strength and all his descendants as he held Katrin so she could catch hold of the limb.

            “All right, sweetheart, you’re all right,” he said soothingly, helping Katrin move hand over hand along the limb until Hemmett could catch hold of her fingers. With a boost from Kaymar, Hemmett managed to haul her up onto the rock and collapsed back with her held tightly in his arms.

            For a moment Kaymar was tempted to let go of the limb and sink into the water. He was washed over with a terrible lassitude that bled all the energy from his limbs. He’d saved the child, he could go now, go to Etahn…

            Katrin, caught her breath and began to wail, shocking Kaymar into action. He boosted himself onto the rock and took her in his arms.

            “I didn’t intend to wash my new suit today,” he said in a hearty tone. “That was a sudden bath, wasn’t it? Cold too.”

            She was shivering, her lips blue from shock and the icy water. He could feel her heart racing. Hemmett was standing by, shivering as well, almost as wet as Katrin was. Kaymar was shivering himself.

            “Everyone to the house,” he said, making it sound like a wonderful adventure. “We all need dry clothes and something hot to drink.”

            He managed to stand despite the terrible weariness and took their hands. He made hurrying along into a game and by the time they came in sight of the house, Katrin had forgotten her fear. The two children were chattering about the incident as if it was a great adventure, the tree limb becoming an entire uprooted oak, Katrin’s fall of some four feet becoming a headlong dive of twenty yards and the like.

            Menders had seen them coming and raced into the drive with blankets, flinging one around Katrin and making a quick cursory check of her before hurrying both children into the house, where other members of the household were bustling about with towels, hot water, dry clothing and the like.

            Kaymar stood in the drive, wondering if he was would be able to climb the steps at all. He knew shock could make him feel weary, but this was dreadful. He started dragging himself up, moving painfully from one step to the next.

            Menders dashed out the front door again.

            “Cousin, I’m sorry, I had to see to her first,” he said as he ran down to Kaymar and got an arm around him. “Are you hurt?”

            “No, just exhausted,” Kaymar managed. “She went to the absolute bottom of that hole by the big rock. Got her dress up over her head.”

            “That’s near thirty feet you dove then! No wonder you feel terrible.” Menders was incredibly strong and before Kaymar knew it, he was in the entry by the big fireplace that was always in use, feeling the fire’s warmth on his face. He held his hands out to it and was stunned to see they were dusky blue. He put them under his arms quickly, shivering at the clammy wet wool that had been a brand-new suit.

            “Here.” Ifor Trantz’s heavy voice cut through the shivering and Kaymar realized the big man was draping a warmed blanket around him. “Hold that around you and I’ll get you out of those wet clothes.”

            Kaymar didn’t protest. He would have done anything to be free of the icy clothing. He clutched the blanket around him as Ifor reached under and into it, carefully easing the sodden garments away from him without exposing him to view. Menders unlaced Kaymar’s shoes and steadied him as he stepped out of them.

Kaymar could see Doctor Franz looking Katrin over, then tweaking the end of her nose. Good, there was no damage. Hemmett submitted to a brief sounding of his chest and then pointed insistently toward Kaymar.

            Doctor Franz looked over and then stood.

            “I’d like to get you back to my office, as soon as you’re finished being undressed there,” he said, his voice hearty and warm, concern in his eyes.

            Ifor took a warmed towel from Cook and gave it to Kaymar. He rubbed his hair with it gratefully, wanting to wrap his entire head in the heated cloth.

            Someone came with Kaymar’s dressing gown and slippers. Ifor demonstrated that he could dress someone under a blanket just as skillfully as he could undress them.

            “Is this skill of yours some kind of party trick?” Kaymar asked Ifor, trying to smile.

            “Amateur theatricals as a boy, quick changes my specialty,” Ifor replied, almost smiling himself. “I’ll put some heated bricks in your bed. You’re going to need them.” He took himself off toward the Men’s Wing.

            Doctor Franz escorted Kaymar down the hall to his office, shut the door, opened the draft on the stove as far as it would go and helped Kaymar up onto the examination table. He inspected Kaymar’s lips, fingernails and toenails and then sounded his chest thoroughly.

            “Who in your family has a weak heart?” he asked bluntly.

            Kaymar blinked.

            “My father died from a heart spasm. He had a bad heart,” he answered truthfully. “But I’ve never had any trouble.”

            “Until now. Any pain?”

            Kaymar quieted his mind and listened to his body.

            “No.”

            “Breathlessness?”

            “Not now. When I came up out of the water, yes.”

            “That’s to be expected. You’ve had a serious shock and you have a bit of a heart murmur. Listen.”

            The doctor put the earpieces of his stethoscope in Kaymar’s ears and held the bell to his chest. Kaymar had the eerie experience of hearing his own heart beating, complete with a soft little hiss between the beats. He looked at the doctor anxiously.

            “And this means?” he asked.

            Doctor Franz shrugged.

            “Likely a small hole between the chambers of your heart. It’s not uncommon. If you’ve never had trouble before, short of diving into icy cold water after drowning children all the time, you should be all right. I’d like to keep an eye on it, of course. Get in a warmed bed, have some hot food and you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I’ll check you then and we’ll see about possible treatment, though I think your life is quiet enough here to give you any support you need.”

            Kaymar nodded in relief. Doctor Franz didn’t mince words and he was truthful.

            Franz looked at Kaymar’s fingernails again.

            “There, see? Pinking right back up. That ticker of yours will be fine.”

            “I go swimming in that spot all the time,” Kaymar protested, the idea of having a heart problem sinking in. “The cold water has never bothered me before.”

            “Yes, at your own speed, not headfirst to a depth of thirty feet. I’ve seen you wallowing around down there like a baby whale. There’s been snow up in the mountains too this summer, and a melt since, so the water is probably a lot colder than it was in the middle of the season. Add to that the shock of Katrin being in such danger and I’d bet every pennig I have you dove from quite a height. All this adds up, young man.” The doctor put his stethoscope aside.       

 “Now, off to bed with you. Do not get up until I give you leave, except for the privy or if the house catches fire.”

            “I want a bath.”

            “Tomorrow. The river’s clean. I mean it, Kaymar. This is not something to shrug off.” The doctor turned toward him, looking grave. “And thank you for your selfless actions, my boy. Katrin came very close to drowning, as I’m sure you know – closer than Menders needs to know, may I add.”

            “Is she all right?” Kaymar asked sharply.

            “She will be. Needs to be in bed a day or two. Some bruises where you grabbed her.”

            Kaymar flinched, and the doctor laughed. “Nothing worth that,” he grinned. “You’ve done yourself proud, young man. Now, off to bed.”

            Kaymar had never been one for being an invalid, but found his bedbound afternoon and evening quite gratifying. People kept popping in to see him. Hemmett reported that Katrin was sound asleep and looked better. Cook plied him with various delicacies, including chicken soup laced with cream, which he loved. Menders perched on the side of the bed and chatted for a while. Haakel looked in to let him know that the planned dinner and dancing in the village had been postponed until he could go along too.

            Finally, the visits stopped and Kaymar could hear the house settling down. Cook banged the range doors shut in the kitchen after settling the fires for the night. Menders moved almost soundlessly along the Men’s Wing and then down the stairs, where he wound the enormous clock in the entryway. The after-dinner dishwashers clanked the last pot back into place in the kitchen and went toward the Men’s Lounge, chatting companionably.

            Kaymar set aside the book he’d been reading and doused his bedside lamp, more than ready to rest now his hair was dry and he was finally warm again.

            “If you need anything in the night, sing out and I’ll help you,” Ifor’s deep tones came from his room across the hall. “I’ll be listening.”

            Kaymar smiled, remembering his hallmate’s deafening snoring.

            “Thank you,” he replied, not letting his humor sound in his voice.

            He turned over in the bed, pressed his toes against the heated bricks wrapped in flannel that were the bedwarmers at The Shadows, and went to sleep.

Preview of Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series

Book One

The Middle Continent

  

Prologue 

A

t the center of The Sea of Grass, Tharan-Tul, Great Shaman of the Thrun, sat on a hilltop by the dying flames of his fire. His gnarled hand smoothed an area of fine gray ash.

            He waited, listening, closing his eyes.

            They came – the whispering voices rising from the Sea of Grass. They sighed and sang of past and future.

            Tharan-Tul drew three interconnected circles in the ashes with his forefinger – Ascendance, Balance and Descent.         

           He drew his runes from their small leather pouch and passed them from hand to hand, the worn bone discs clicking together softly. His mind called to the Spirits at The Light At The Top Of The World to help him see clearly. He cast the runes across the drawn circles.

            He frowned.

The rune of the Winter Sun was in the uppermost circle, Ascendance, but the other two had fallen together in the adjacent circle of Balance. The third circle, Descent, was clear.

Not a bad sign, but unexpected.

Could Light Of The Winter Sun ascend so soon? The runes of Reflection of My Friend and Light Brighter Than The Sun had fallen under another influence, when before, all three of the chosen children’s runes had always been unified in one circle.

The whispering voices sang that this was the near future he was seeing, not the present.

Sweeping the fragile discs together into his hand, Tharan-Tul replaced them in their pouch, then erased the circles in the ash. Sitting back on his heels, he looked up at the night sky.

          The prophecy might yet come to pass, despite the division between the chosen children he had just seen. They could be reunified. There was still time.

            In the interim, there was much to be done.

The Shadows, Mordania

 1

Gladdas Dalmanthea

Visits The Shadows

I

for Trantz, former Mordanian spy, was riding home from a day of hunting when he saw a woman burdened with a particularly large portmanteau trudging along the road from The Shadows’ railroad halt. He frowned. No visitors were expected today. This was a serious breach of security.

            Ifor urged his large black gelding forward and rapidly overtook the figure toiling along in the dust of the midsummer road. As he got within earshot, it was obvious that not only was the woman toiling along, she was swearing expertly as she did so.

            “Gladdas, you old biddy,” Ifor grinned as he drew even with her.

            Piercing eyes as dark as his own glared up under heavy, shapely eyebrows.

          "Retribution for those tight shoes you sold me will begin,” Gladdas Dalmanthea, the only female freelance spy and assassin on Eirdon, snapped.

            “Gladdy, that was twelve years ago,” Ifor chuckled, sliding from his horse’s back and taking the portmanteau from her without a by-your-leave. “My back was so bad that day, it’s a wonder I didn’t sell you hobnail boots.”

            “They would have pinched less,” she retorted as he began securing the portmanteau to the front of his saddle. “Don’t think I’m going to flop around behind you on that grundar you call a horse,” she continued.

            Ifor smiled to himself and tied the portmanteau behind his saddle instead.

            “Should we leave her to cope with the dust and heat, Blackie?” he asked his very large saddle mount.

            “You call your horse Blackie?” Gladdas Dalmanthea asked sarcastically.

            “Makes sense. He’s black,” Ifor responded laconically. He remounted and crooked a booted foot for her to step onto, pulling her upward to sit sidesaddle before him. He pretended not to hear her involuntary sigh of relief. She had walked almost halfway to The Shadows from the halt on an unpaved road – a difficult journey on a hot day, particularly for a woman wearing very citified shoes.

            They were silent until they rounded a bend in the road and the great estate house called The Shadows came into view.

            “Good gods!” Gladdas Dalmanthea burst out. “Is that Menders’ little hut in the woods?”

            Ifor grinned to himself. The Shadows was as striking as it was imposing, four stories of elaborate Old Mordanian architecture. It soared against the sky, its onion-domed turrets frosted with decorative painted woodwork. Sixteen years of loving restoration and maintenance had made what was once a neglected, near-ruin into a gracious home for nearly seventy people – including Princess Katrin Morghenna, second Heiress to the Throne of Mordania

            “That’s it,” was all Ifor said.

            “It’s incredible – but not worth Menders staying out here in this wilderness,” Gladdas sniped.

            “He didn’t have any choice about it, if you’ll remember,” Ifor rebuked gently. “These days it’s far from a wilderness. You’re just grumpy because you were shuffling along in the dust. What brings you out, Glad?”

            “I thought I would take a look at the place I’m exiling some of my best operatives to for the next three years,” she responded, still staring at the house and grounds as Blackie strutted along.

            The grounds of The Shadows were at their summer best, green lawns sweeping up a gentle slope to the house. A lake on the right side of the curving oval drive shimmered in the sunlight, ringed with purple flag flowers and lilies. An extravagant rose garden nestled against the south side of the house – a dense forest of old growth trees guarded the sunlit gardens adjacent to the massive house. The display of light and shade was dazzling.

            A small, blond man sauntered out onto the massive front steps of The Shadows, shaded his eyes and stared in their direction. Ifor waved before the man darted back inside, to emerge a few seconds later with a pair of binoculars. He surveyed them and dashed indoors again.

            “Gone to tell Papa?” Gladdas sniped.

            Ifor smiled, but he pinched her waist just hard enough to get her attention.

            “Now then, Glad – we’re happy to have you, but if you’d let us know you were coming, we would have met you at The Halt,” he chided gently. “What’s more, I could have come and brought you over from Erdahn on the boat. That would have saved you the two day delay the trains have been having outside of Rondheim.”

            She groaned and he could hear the weariness in the sound. She leaned back against him. He wrapped a big arm around her waist affectionately. They had known each other for more than twenty-five years and nothing she threw could rattle or offend him.

            “You may take me back on your boat,” she finally said as they started up the drive to the house.

            The blond man reappeared with a companion who wore dark spectacles and thigh length black hair held back with a decorative clip. He peered through the binoculars held out to him by the blond fellow and laughed before he waved.

            “That is Sir Slippery Eel?” Gladdas Dalmanthea asked in astonishment. “Last time I saw him, he looked like a naughty schoolboy!”

            “It’s been a very long time,” Ifor observed. “Since before he went to deal with the Surelian Problem nineteen years ago? You haven’t run into him since then?”

            Gladdas shook her head, staring at the men she knew were Aylam Josirus, Lord Stettan, who went by the name Menders and Kaymar Shvalz, his second in command – first cousins to each other and second cousins to the Queen of Mordania.

            “No, it never came up. I spend a lot of time in Artreya now,” she answered distractedly. “And that’s Kaymar. The last time I saw him he was a child – albeit a frightening one.”

            “He still is at times.” Ifor smiled at her description of the mercurial man he had been bonded with for eight years. “I believe you’ll find that he’s quite grown up – for the most part.”

            Gladdas laughed outright and Ifor smiled. Now her visit would go well and she wouldn’t appear on the doorstep at her worst.

            Two heads popped out of a second story window – those of a golden-haired young woman and a striking young Thrun man. Gladdas glimpsed startling blue eyes on the woman and dark spectacles, like Menders’, on the man before the heads popped back out of sight and excited conversation could be heard.

            “The Princess, I presume?” she said. “I hope she doesn’t expect curtseying.”

            It was Ifor’s turn to laugh.

            “Glad, you have no idea – absolutely no idea,” he said, swinging off the horse and lifting her down to the steps, where Menders came forward and to her utter amazement, embraced her like a long-lost sister.

Love and Sacrifice: Book Two of the Prophecy Series is available on Amazon.com at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072WPSP65

Free reading for Amazon Prime and Kindle Unlimited members!

Those Teasing Questions Left Unanswered...

I hope everyone is having a wonderful Saturday, be it morning, afternoon or night wherever you may be!

I've been thinking a bit about fantasy writing - after all, that's what the Eirdon books are. A couple of people have contacted me after reading Love and Sacrifice - which is great! I love to hear from people who care enough about the books to ask questions or make comments.

It's great to know that people so accept the world a fantasy author has created that they almost see it as a real place - and when something seems jarring and out of place, it unsettles them. When I have someone ask me about a certain device in Love and Sacrifice (no spoilers policy in effect!), I know that reader cares about and accepts the world of Eirdon. For me, there is no greater compliment.

It's very important to remember a couple of things:

• Eirdon is not Earth. 
• The Eirdon Books are a series. 

Time to reveal some of the plan:

The Prophecy Series will ultimately consist of four main books, with a few possible ancillary books as well. The main books are:

• Weaving Man - How Menders ended up at The Shadows with Princess Katrin and how he and the family he gathers around them lives out the next sixteen years.
• Love and Sacrifice - Covers the next sixteen years in the lives of Menders, Eiren, Katrin, Hemmett, Borsen and all the other characters. The focus is on all types of love (for people, country, places) and sacrifices that all the characters make.
• Eirdon - Covers the next ten to twelve years of all characters' lives - there is a great danger to the entire planet of Eirdon and it falls to Katrin and the rest of her family to struggle with the balance between light and dark.
• The Light At The Top Of The World - the fourth and final book of the main series - all is revealed and all questions that might be left hanging in the other books are wrapped up here, as the young genius, Dahrien (yep, you haven't met him yet!) unravels the great mystery of Eirdon.

So if something seems out of place or even impossible - it will be explained and revealed! Tove really hasn't snapped her cap and written something goofy!

Keep comments and questions coming! I truly appreciate each and every one of you and thank you so much for enjoying and caring about my stories.

An Update and an Answer to a Question

Hello! I realized that it's been quite a while since I posted here and didn't want to let things fall completely by the wayside. Unfortunately, I'm in Week 4 of a terrible sinus infection - the third I've had in my lifetime. Anyone who suffers from chronic sinus problems - I take my hat off to you and empathize so much with your grief. The recent medical trend for not prescribing antibiotics backfired in my case - I started out with a viral infection, but it segued to a bacterial one which has called for the heavy artillery. I've been one sick chick. Never taken so much sick time from my day job since I had an emergency gall bladder removal.

Sadly, my writing schedule has fallen way behind and this, my first weekend in a month where I've felt relatively human, is being devoted to moving forward with Love and Sacrifice and clearing some of the wreckage that occurs when you don't pick up the house for God knows how long!

I'm still hoping for a late April release of Love and Sacrifice. It was largely finished, but I go through an exhaustive editing process that sometimes requires rewriting of entire portions of the book. To be honest, I never want to read Weaving Man again! I must have read it over a hundred times during the final editing - and believe it or not, after I did so, I found a screamer on the third page as soon as I punched the "publish" button - a terrible grammatical error that made me turn red in embarrassment. Part of the editing process involves reading the material aloud - you can find really cringeworthy phrases and errors that you would never notice by reading it silently.

It's a good thing I live alone (well, I do share the house with a big red pitbull named Waldo), particularly when the reading aloud begins. Especially when I start doing the voices, including any who speak with an accent (Borsen.)

A question I've been asked a few times might need an answer, so here goes.

Question: Why did you leave sex scenes out of Weaving Man?

Answer: This was a deliberate decision. When my ex-husband and I were collaborating on the original storyline, we discussed this and decided that, as the novel was written in something of a Victorian/Edwardian style and would also reflect the morals and outlook of of the characters, that leaving actual sex acts up to the imagination of the reader would be most appropriate.

We aren't prudes - but our society is so inundated with sexual imagery that we didn't feel that we needed to add to the array. My intent with the Eirdon books was to explore the minds and relationships of the characters, who are in an unusual and often dangerous and heartbreaking situation. They are bound by duty, honor, morals and many of them sacrifice a great deal of themselves for a higher cause. Of course they fall in love and express that love with one another - but do we really need to peer into their bedrooms? Do we need to know who did what, how, how long and in what positions?

You can find graphic descriptions of sex acts in so many books, to say nothing of on millions of sites online, in movies, in all forms of media. Weaving Man didn't need it to tell the story. So we didn't put it in. The imagination can far surpass any description I could write of people having sex!

So that's the thought for the day, for what it's worth. And just to give you a little glimpse at my very attractive housemate, I'm going to put in a picture of the Wonderful Waldo, my adorable and slightly insane rescued pitbull. He's a seven year old red-fella with a gammy leg and a very highly attuned sense of humor, who tolerates my reading chapters of the book aloud while he's trying to sleep!

Waldo, aka Walderino, Waldingus, The Wonderful Waldoni, etc.

Sequel News!

Update! Love and Sacrifice, the sequel to Weaving Man, is available through Amazon.com as an e-book and paperback! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072WPSP65

Enjoy!


Love the book and can't wait for the next one 

- Kathryn L. Gauny, February 3, 2017

I really enjoyed this book and am anticipating the sequel

The writing is excellent, and the story is well crafted. It held my attention throughout. I recommend this.

 - Lauren G, January 10, 2017

Loved this book!

Can't wait for the next in series!

- Robin Smith-DeBrayon, January 26, 2017

I just wanted to dedicate a post to the next book in the series, as these reviews and quite a few more focus on readers’ anticipation of the sequel to Weaving Man.

Weaving Man is the first book in a four volume series that focuses on the lives of Menders, Katrin, Hemmett, Borsen and the other characters who have caught readers' imaginations. 

The next book is titled Love and Sacrifice, and picks up where Weaving Man ends. It will be followed by the third book, Eirdon and the final book in the story arc, The Light At The Top Of The World.

I am on a schedule to release Love and Sacrifice during April, 2017. So far, things are going well. I'm coming out of a very busy time at my day job, and can afford a little time off, so I don’t anticipate delays.

And now, back to the keyboard!

For A While...

For a while, Weaving Man was outselling Stephen King on the SciFi/Fantasy Epic Bestseller List on Amazon.com.

I'm sure Mr. King didn't lose any sleep or spend any time weeping on anyone's neck, but it was a bit of a rush for a while!

Such is the life of a new, indy author! Many thanks to all who have bought Weaving Man or read Kindle Unlimited/Kindle Online Lending Library copies!

Weaving Man

How do you say...

I've had a few questions about the pronunciation of the names in Weaving Man. I thought I'd put together a short glossary here, combined with a bit of a Who's Who.

Place Names

Eirdon - EAR-dun - the planet, plagued by constant warfare and threatened by a rapidly advancing industrial revolution. Eirdon is where everything happens in the Prophecy Series.

Mordania - more-DANE-ee-uh - an enormous country on Eirdon, landmass approximately the same as Eurasia on Earth, home of the oldest civilization on Eirdon.

Erdahn - ER-dun - capital city of Mordania and oldest city on Eirdon.

Erdstrom - ERD-strum - nearest city to The Shadows.

Leptham - LEPT-hum - seaside resort city on the southern coast of Mordania.

People at The Shadows

Aylam Josirus - AY-lum joe-SIGH-rus - Menders' given names, unused since his childhood except by a very few.

Eiren Spaltz - EAR-ren SPAWLTS - farmer's daughter at The Shadows.

Kaymar Schvalz - KAY-mar SHVAHLZ - Menders' cousin, retired assassin.

Ifor Trantz - EE-for TRAHNTS - Menders' spy networks' "brain".

Rainer Franz - RINE-er FRANZ - Katrin's personal physician and estate doctor for The