Friday, June 27, 2014
About the Book
King Arthur and his extraordinary young Knights used ‘might’ for ‘right’ to create a new Camelot in the City of Angels. They rallied the populace around their cause, while simultaneously putting the detached politicians in check. But now they must move forward to even greater heights, despite what appears to be an insurmountable tragedy.
Their new goal is lofty: give equality to kids fourteen and older who are presently considered adults only when they break the law. Arthur’s crusade seeks to give them real rights such as voting, driving, trading high school for work, and sitting as jurors for their peers charged with criminal behavior.
Understanding that the adults of California will likely be against them, Arthur and his Knights must determine how best to win them over.
However, before the king can even contemplate these matters, he finds himself face to face with an ally from the past, one who proves that everything isn’t always what it seems – even life and death.
The Knight Cycle Continues…
Heart. That's what fills the writings of Michael J. Bowler. Love, empathy, a warm embrace of humanity, together equals a special kind of goodness that flows through his pages. To be blunt, if you don't like to feel, then don't read his work. But if you're okay with getting emotional, he has the ability to tug at your heartstrings like no one else can.
This unique quality is most apparent in the character of John, an eleven-year-old boy dying of cancer who uses his Make-A-Wish to meet Lance, the lynchpin to King Arthur's return to glory in twenty-first century Los Angeles. Yes, this is a fantasy novel, but the realistic way it's written makes it fascinatingly believable. Lance is everything that John wants to be, but since he's living on borrowed time, he'll sadly never make it out of childhood to follow Lance on his crusade.
But Lance has a lot of pressure on his young shoulders. He's only a teen himself, yet kids look up to him as some sort of role model, admiring how he stands up for their rights against the authority figures in their lives, everyone from government officials to teachers to parents. Under King Arthur's guidance, all Lance wants is to give kids an equal voice in determining their futures, changing laws and putting them on a even playing field with adults.
Of course, this causes a social uproar, creating a new battlefront when it comes to ageism, that pits young against old. Lance is treading on ground that hasn't been crossed before. Those in power don't want to give it up, and those that don't have it are going to rally behind Lance until they get it, collecting signatures and staging nonviolent sit-ins, refusing to talk to adults until they sign a petition that would give all those fourteen and over the right to vote.
John knows that he probably won't live to see Lance's initiatives pass, but he's determined to thank him in person, especially when Lance is caught in a compromising position on camera, creating a serious public relations gaffe. Some people turn on Lance, mocking him for being a hypocrite and for hurting the cause, but not John. He stands by his hero, sending him words of encouragement while others mercilessly rip him apart online.
When John finally arrives at the new Camelot, Lance's trampled spirits are buoyed by the boy's sense of optimism and hope. Lance finds the boy's attitude so contagious, he surprises John with a last minute knighting ceremony, making the dying boy's unspoken wish come true, taking it upon himself to reward John for his unwavering loyalty. Lance makes John one of them, inducting him into the brotherhood he admired so much from afar.
When John struggles to his feet and holds a sword aloft, it's easily the most emotional moment in the book. His faith in Lance, reenergizes his idol, giving him a fresh perspective on just how precious life is, making Lance renew his vow not to take a second of it for granted. John's purity of heart reminds Lance that life is a gift and should not be treated lightly. Lance might be the esteemed leader that everyone looks up to, but John is the one who is able to steer him back on course.
The interaction between the two is just a snippet of the entire book, yet it speaks volumes to the type of author Bowler is and the distinctive young adult characters he so lovingly creates.
Running Through a Dark Place can be purchased at:
Prices/Formats: $4.99 ebook, $15.95 paperback
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Young Adult
Release: May 12, 2014
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About the Author
Michael J. Bowler is an award-winning author of three novels - A Boy and His Dragon, A Matter of Time, and Children of the Knight - who grew up in San Rafael, California.
He majored in English and Theatre at Santa Clara University and earned a master’s in film production from Loyola Marymount University, a teaching credential in English from LMU, and another master's in Special Education from Cal State University Dominguez Hills.
He partnered with two friends as producer, writer, and/or director on several ultra-low-budget horror films, including “Fatal Images,” “Club Dead,” and “Things II,” the reviews of which are much more fun than the actual movies.
He taught high school in Hawthorne, California for twenty-five years, both in general education and to students with learning disabilities, in subjects ranging from English and Strength Training to Algebra, Biology, and Yearbook.
He has also been a volunteer Big Brother to seven different boys with the Catholic Big Brothers Big Sisters program and a thirty-year volunteer within the juvenile justice system in Los Angeles. He is a passionate advocate for the fair treatment of children and teens in California, something that is sorely lacking in this state. He has been honored as Probation Volunteer of the Year, YMCA Volunteer of the Year, California Big Brother of the Year, and 2000 National Big Brother of the Year. The “National” honor allowed he and three of his Little Brothers to visit the White House and meet the president in the Oval Office.
He has already written the four continuations of Children of the Knight that complete The Knight Cycle and all will be released in 2014.
He is currently at work on a new novel.
Links to connect with Michael:
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Monday, June 23, 2014
About the Book
In a land where magic is outlawed, a young boy is living a double life. Although Kay is training to be a knight, he has been secretly studying the forbidden ways of magic with Alamin, a powerful but eccentric wizard.
After passing of the Trial of the Rings and being raised to squirehood, Kay has decided to tell Alamin that he is going to leave his magical studies behind. And why not? Kay hasn’t ever cast a spell without something going seriously wrong–like the random appearance of frogs or hungry wolves–besides, Kay could be banished from the kingdom just for associating with Alamin.
Kay’s plans are quickly obliterated when a horde of goblins attacks his village and captures his family and friends. Now, with his home lying in ruins, everything has changed. Along with Alamin and Felix, a self-serving kleptomaniac sprite, Kay embarks on an adventure that takes him across the Kingdom of Gaspar and into the dark and treacherous caves of the Goblin Realm. What Kay doesn’t realize is that his journey is leading him on a collision course with the Lord of Nyn – a being so powerful that none dare face him...not even Alamin himself!
The Sword of the Dragon's Flame can slaughter any foe. The Gauntlets of Might imbue the wearer with indomitable strength. The Helm of Truth reads the thoughts of friend and enemy alike. Ancient magical artifacts that according to lore are the only things that can defeat the Lord of Nyn. But not just anyone can use them. Prophecy states that it must be a young boy who is the embodiment of goodness. Everything he does must be for the cause of justice, or his mission will fail, and evil will triumph over the light for generations to come.
It's an awful lot to ask of a newly christened squire, but Kay is no ordinary boy. Magic flows through his veins, even if he doesn't know how to properly channel it just yet. He's a work in progress in more ways than one. But the grizzled wizard, Alamin, knows that ready or not, his protege is going to be put to the test. Time waits for no one. Goblins are advancing upon human settlements, plundering village after village in the kingdom of Gaspar. Someone must rise to challenge this spread of murder and destruction, and Kay's the one destiny has appointed as mankind's champion.
Michaud weaves a tale full of elements that are staples in the fantasy genre from Latin-esque spells reminiscent of HARRY POTTER to a kingdom besieged by internal politics a la GAME OF THRONES. Yet he doesn't get too deep or graphic in his storytelling. He approaches things with a gentle hand. Sure, there are fire-breathing dragons and bridges made of human bones, but he never crosses the line into anything gratuitous or grotesque. Michaud tastefully handles the level of violence and gore, making it appropriate material for readers of all ages.
There's the humorous sidekick for levity. The feisty girl for romance. The no good ruler's son as a rival. It has all the ingredients required for those who like a little make-believe when it comes to action and adventure. Michaud delves into the handbook of the masters from the Brothers Grimm to Aesop and comes up with something all his own.
Part morality tale, part Hollywood blockbuster, THE ROAD TO NYN is a road fantasy lovers will want to travel.
The Road to Nyn can be purchased at:
Prices/Formats: $0.99 ebook, $8.99 paperback
Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult
Release: November 2013
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About the Author
Brian G. Michaud lives in a small town in Massachusetts with his wife, Kim. When he is not reading or writing books, he can be found teaching music at a local elementary school or rocking out on guitar with the band, Too Loud.
Links to connect with Brian:
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Monday, June 2, 2014
It was a pale spring morning when a green butterfly failed to save the Alsvid herd. The wind, brisk in the early hour, carried the small creature in its swiftly flowing current. The sun had not quite risen but lit the edges of the world, colouring the sky a still and sullen grey. The butterfly, whose name was Gideon, pulled out of the rigid breeze and swirled down to the empty field below. Landing on a fat coneflower, he hungrily searched for food. An inky black bat swooped and darted behind him.
Gideon took a deep gulp of nectar and then shook his head sadly. He turned to the bat that had landed softly next to him.
“Well, Arkas,” he said gloomily. “I tried.”
Arkas nodded sympathetically and dug around the flower bed, as if he hoped to find something tasty.
“I should have put an arrow through Arion’s heart,” said Gideon, plucking half-heartedly at a petal. “His…and the rest of the horses. They’re all are as good as dead now, anyway.”
Arkas chirped in agreement then scrounged up a strawberry and stuffed it in his mouth. He had begun rooting around for more when a rumble of thunder shook the sky. The ground began to quiver and the trees that lined the meadow swayed wildly from a sudden, howling wind.
“They’re coming!” yelled Gideon over a sharp crack of lightning. “Let’s go, we have to find Daleth and Mareva.” He dove into the air and sped away while Arkas flapped closely behind.
* * *
Mareva awoke with a jolt. Her mate, Hengist, flicked one gray ear at her movement but did not wake. The cave was quiet in the early morning. The queen mare took a deep breath. The tangy smell of smoke reached her nose and lit her senses with an uneasy spark.
She shook her chestnut coat and stepped carefully through the sleeping horses of her herd to the entrance of their cave. Looking out, she faced a long stretch of white sand and deep green sea. As she listened to the rush of the surf, her instinct began to nag in slow whispers. She listened closely, and then crept out of the cave. A cold wind whirled around her, bending the flowers and tearing the leaves from the trees. Shielding herself behind a gnarly oak, she peeked down a worn path to a clearing where several figures were gathered.
“Are those humans?” she asked herself, drawing a deep breath. “Yes…that is the smell of man, but…it’s different somehow.” She inhaled again. Her nose picked up the scent of unfamiliar horses—a dusty smell that didn’t match the burnt-grass odour of her herd, the Harena. She moved closer for a better look, jumping when thunder crashed closely overhead. A storm was coming.
“Do you smell that?” asked a voice from behind. Her younger sister, Daleth, a golden mare with amber eyes and a pearly mane, had followed her. “That is the stench of man and his fire.”
“It doesn’t smell like a regular man,” Mareva said with a puzzled frown. “And that fire is black—that’s not a normal flame. There is something else... a strange scent I would not associate with humans.”
Daleth studied the clearing through narrowed eyes. She flared her nostrils, testing the air for herself.
“You are right, Queen Sister,” she agreed. “It smells like an animal that has lain dead in the sun. It is the Rakhana Army, the Silver City’s most dreadful pick of soldiers, led by that reprobate, General Caucus. That’s him there, the tallest one. I’ve tasted that scent before.” She pushed her sister with her muzzle.
“We should wake the others and hide further in the cave.”
“Not yet,” said the queen, for her instinct had begun to whisper again, telling her to wait… or she would miss it. “Miss what?” she thought as watched a terrible scene unfold in front of her.
The Rakhana had caught a herd of horses, trapping the terrified animals in a ring of black fire. With fat whips, the men lashed any horse that tried to dash out of the blaze. General Caucus, his face hidden by a glinting silver mask, had cornered the herd’s king. The stallion reared and struck, but the man quickly leapt out of the way and jabbed the horse with a long stick. A jet of blue flame stunned the creature and he crumpled to the ground. Men swarmed the horse, tightly pulling ropes around his thrashing form.
The general attacked the stallion’s mate with bolts from his weapon until she too collapsed, only with a loud ‘snap.’ He stood over the mare and watched her flail on the hard ground.
“Oh, no,” Daleth whispered in horror. “Her leg is broken.”
General Caucus pulled a small, silver ball from his cloak and aimed it at the wailing mare, who scrambled to get to her feet. A thunderous boom rang across the field and the mare was still. He kicked at her limp form and then strode away to where the stallion lay struggling against the ropes. Mareva strained her ears and fought to pick up what the man was saying, but his words were lost under the stallion’s furious whinnies. The sisters huddled miserably together.
The moon still cast its faint light across the land as Gideon and Arkas reached the beaches.
“What pretty green wings,” said Daleth dryly, spotting the butterfly who landed at her side. Arkas squealed and flapped over to Daleth. He nuzzled the large horse affectionately.
“Daleth,” Gideon said breathlessly. “It is good to see you, old friend; you too, Mareva.”
“Never mind that,” said Daleth impatiently. “What are you doing here, Forest Man? You’re only a lucky charm for humans. Anytime I see you, it usually means trouble.” She tossed her head warningly at him.
“Gideon, what is going on down there?” asked Mareva anxiously. “Who is that herd?”
“It’s the Alsvid. That fool, King Arion, came here to make a deal with Queen Asura. She wanted animal Bonds with his herd for her soldiers of the Rakhana. In exchange, she promised them immortality.”
“What?” Daleth shrieked. “Immortality…has he been bitten by a rabid fox? How ridiculous!”
“I thought the Alsvid were dead against Bonding,” Mareva murmured.
“So did I,” answered Gideon. “But her falsehoods fed his large ego. He actually believes his herd legends about being created for the Gods and he was lured by the lies of Asura and that wizard of hers.”
“Oh, don’t tell me that scoundrel of a magic maker, Dazra, is still hanging around and stinking up the castle?” Daleth hissed. “Why he and Asura weren’t beheaded for killing their human king is beyond anything I’ve ever…”
“They weren’t beheaded because they rule the Silver City now, in his place,” Gideon interrupted.
“Most people still believe their lies about him dying in a riding accident. An accident while atop your back.”
“Hmpf,” Daleth snorted. “So, they’re still up to their two favourite pastimes, trickery and untruths, are they? I see nothing has changed since I left.”
“It’s gotten worse,” Gideon answered grimly.
“Did you not tell Arion what that so called “queen” has been doing to the animals in the Silver City?” Daleth asked bitterly.
“Of course I told him,” came the reply, followed by a soft pop.
Where a butterfly had been only moments before, stood a tall, lean man. He had a bony face lit by fierce, green eyes. His long hair was the colour of tree bark and he wore a green cloak that brushed the tall grass. Arkas flew up and roosted on his shoulder.
“You’re getting old, Gideon,” said Daleth, studying the lines on his face.
“If Arion was coming to make a deal with the queen, then why are the Rakhana rounding them up?” asked Mareva quietly.
“Because she had no intention of giving them immortality,” Gideon said angrily. “She just plans on turning them all into warhorses. I came to warn him that it was the army coming to meet him, not her, but he didn’t believe me. What a fool.” He watched the soldiers with an expression that was both miserable and furious. “Oh, no,” Mareva whispered, “the entire Alsvid—finished.”
“Not quite,” said Gideon turning to her. “I managed to do one thing right today and that’s where you two come in.”
“What do you mean?” Daleth asked.
“I took his foal.” “Good heavens, you did what?” gasped Mareva.
“I took him,” Gideon replied. “Like I said, Arion wouldn’t believe me when I told him the army was on its way. I stood there arguing with him as the minutes ticked by and with each one the Rakhana grew closer. So, I changed to my butterfly form and teased his foal into following me. He’s so young; there’s no way he could have made the journey from here all the way to the Silver City. The first time he tried to lay down to rest, the Rakhana would have just left him there…that or killed him.”
“Where is he?” Daleth asked.
“I hid him in that brush, just over there.” Gideon pointed to a clearing further up the edge of the forest.
“Oh, Gideon, his son…” Mareva whispered unbelievingly.
“He’s your son now,” said Gideon. “Mareva, I need you to keep him here at the beaches and raise him as your own.” “Wait a minute, you mean you want us…?” Daleth began.
“Daleth,” interrupted Gideon, “I don’t trust anyone else to take him. There’s more to this and I don’t have time to…” he stopped short, as if taking a cue from the worried looks on their faces.
“There is a legend,” he said as the violent wind that whipped his hair, “about a man who rides a ‘white-eyed steed; Alsvid are the only horses to have white eyes, as far as I’ve seen. I must keep him safe. What if he is the horse from the myth?”
“A legend,” Mareva muttered. “But if the legend is about a man and men are rounding them up then wouldn’t—”
“No,” Gideon interrupted shortly. “I need you to trust me, Mareva. Now, tell no one he is here except for the Forest Council, do you understand me?”
Without waiting for their answer, he and Arkas disappeared in a rush of green smoke.
“Good old Gideon,” said Daleth with grudging affection. “Always running around sticking his nose in everyone’s business—turns out it was a good thing, this time.” She turned to Mareva. “You stay behind me and if I tell you to run, you do it, no matter what. Let’s go find that foal.”
Daleth quickly led her sister in the direction that Gideon had pointed. As they reached the small clearing, Mareva caught the fresh-morning scent that always accompanied a young horse. She pushed past Daleth and poked her face into a small hillock.
Huddled in the weeds was a small, shaggy foal. His coat was the deepest shade of midnight and his hooves were as black as coal. He would have looked like a perfectly ordinary horse if not for his white, glowing eyes that shone like two full moons in the dark morning. He looked up at Mareva’s looming figure and gave a surprised snort.
“Daleth, my goodness,” Mareva whispered in amazement. “Look at this!”
“Let me see him,” said Daleth, shoving Mareva aside. She eyed the odd shape on the colt’s flank—a white spiral, bordered with a scattering of tiny, silver spots. “There is his mark,” she muttered. “Alsvid, indeed; we should get him to the cave.” She stared back out at the Rakhana army.
The Alsvid had stopped fighting and were grouped miserably under a swollen storm cloud that had settled solely over them. Under a shroud of pounding rain, the soldiers bound the horses into a long line. The largest soldier led the limping king stallion to the front of the row and began dragging the horse away.
“That is not a fight we can win,” Mareva said warningly, after seeing the blazing look on Daleth’s face.
“And if the Rakhana see you, you will be caught too. Come, Sister, we have to get this foal to safety.”
“Quickly now, little one,” Mareva whispered to the small horse. He shakily got to his feet and they rushed him to the trees outside their cave. Here, they looked him over.
“An Alsvid,” Daleth said wondrously. “I’ve never seen one before. Look at those strange eyes. Oh, how I hate leaving them to this. Now that the army has them, who knows what dreadful things fate has in store for them.”
The foal sank to his knees and laid down between the sisters. Mareva began to wash his coat with soft, gentle licks. Comforted by the queen horse’s affection, his strange eyes grew heavy, and with a deep sigh, he fell fast asleep.
“Look at that,” said Daleth quietly. “He’s settled right in already. How lucky for us too, what with no foals this year.” She swished her tail and gave the foal a small push with her nose.
“I worry about what Hengist will say.” Mareva said with a frown. “Bringing a strange male into the herd will seem like a challenge to him, don’t you think? He won’t like it at all.”
“Well, that’s too bad for Hengist, isn’t it?” Daleth answered, laying her ears back. “You are the Queen of the Harena herd and your stallion will do as you say, if he knows what’s good for him. Besides,” she added, “Gideon told us to take him and trust me—you do not want to go against his wishes.”
Seemingly satisfied with this reasoning, Mareva finished grooming the foal. “There you are,” she whispered. “You don’t need to worry; we are your herd now.”
“I wonder what his name is,” Daleth mused. “Gideon, that twit, he forgot to tell us.”
“Now, now,” chided Mareva. “Gideon might not have known it himself. This poor, little fellow; he must have one. I hate the thought of changing it on him.”
“Well, he can’t tell us what it is and we have to call him something,” Daleth said logically. “What should it be?”
“I don’t know,” answered Mareva as she got to her feet. “You’ve never had a foal. Would you like to name him?”
Daleth looked pleased. “Well,” she replied, licking her lips. “My Bonded human used to shout a very strange word just before he led his army and me into battle. I don’t know why he said it—it didn’t seem to have any effect on the enemy, but he did it every time. I always loved the sound of that word. To me, it meant victory.”
“What was it?” asked Mareva.
“He yelled, ‘Mandamus.’”
“Mandamus,” murmured the queen. “What does it mean?”
“He told me that it meant “we command,” in a very old human language, spoken before creatures decided to use the Common Words that we and the humans share now.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mareva said with a frown. “That sounds dangerous to me, naming him after a human battle cry. It could bring all sorts of problems and we don’t want that for him.”
Daleth snorted. “Right, well if you think this little guy is going to go through this life without running into any problems, then guess again—no one gets off that easy. For starters, he is the last of the free Alsvid… I’d say his troubles have already begun.”
“‘We command,’” said Mareva thoughtfully. “Shouldn’t it be ‘I command’?”
“Absolutely not!” Daleth answered. “Who should be allowed to command on their own? You said I could pick what we call him; now, let’s name him.”
Mareva smiled at her sister’s stubbornness. “Mandamus,” Mareva said softly, touching the foal’s forehead with her muzzle. “By the Goddess Epona, we will call you Mandamus. Mandamus of the Harena.”
The sisters stood over the sleeping foal and listened to the fading sounds of his herd being forced away. When the sun finally rose on that dreadful morning, the Alsvid and the army were gone.
About the Book
Mandamus is only a foal when his herd is captured by the terrible Rakhana Army. Rescued and raised in secrecy, he knows nothing of his heritage until a dreadful incident in the woods brings him to the attention of the Forest council – and everyone else. Sent away for his own protection, he is determined to seek help on behalf of the many animals who have gone missing from the forest, including his own family.
With the help of a troubled man and a stout-hearted bat, can Mandamus save his fellow creatures before it's too late?
Prices/Formats: $2.99 ebook, $7.45 paperback
Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy
Release Date: February 20, 2014
Buy Links: Amazon
About the Author
A chronic “head in the cloudser” K. Madill lives in a rickety house on a well treed street in British Columbia, Canada. When she’s not hanging out with her best equine friend in the woods she can be found trying to stay upright on her roller skates or mediating the affairs of her various furred and feathered friends that rule the aforementioned rickety house.
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