Tag Archives: Epic Fantasy

Chaos: Worlds Beyond Tour

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Chaos: Worlds Beyond cover

Reflections of Infinity, Book 1

Epic Fantasy

 

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Amid the power struggle for a vast Empire, a young boy is swept along with
a Tribe of fearless warriors on their Quest to the Mystical uncharted
Crimson World!

As young gods fall to the Worlds from the stars they are born in, appearing
as comets streaking across the sky; sentient magical artifacts call to the
minds of men: calling with images and promises of power from Wild Worlds.
Massive and strange they hold gigantic monsters and wonders that are beyond
the scope of the imaginations of the fearless Tribe of warriors that dare to
magically travel to them!

 

Chaos: Worlds Beyond tablet

EXCERPT:

 

 Within the Obsidian Throne room of the 

Imperial Palace 

PREMERA 

 

Primus Croatius! The men request your presence in the anteroom immediately! His First said, gasping in excitement. The young soldier spun around, his obsidian armor gleaming as he threw his arms out toward the door and the winding hall beyond, before turning and staring at his Primus, who also happened to be his hero coming up through the ranks, saying with a glint in his gray eyes: “my Leader, surely you have heard! The Emperor is DEAD!” 

Primus Croatius slowly turned around to look at his underling, shaking his head with a deep sigh, his hazel eyes glancing down at the ground in demur melancholy, his Premerian obsidian armor clinking at the hinges over his large frame: softened slightly with Palace living in the past few weeks. Overall he thought he looked pretty good for a man of thirty eight sunstrokes, with not one single touch of gray in his thick wavy black hair. 

 

“Why are you so enthused? Our Emperor died today.” He said getting up to walk with the First toward the door anyway. “My Leader, the chamberlains plan to place a mere child on the throne as an heir! Surely, you know what must be done my liege!” Primus Croatius stopped in his tracks, staring over at the man in consternation, narrowing his hazel eyes as he asked: “did you speak of this to the men?” The First looked away from his gaze, his face going red as he stuttered: “y-yes I spoke to them, and they are all behind you my Leader! He said, his deep set brown eyes pleading above his angular clean shaven face. 

 

“Come now Lincian. You know as well as I that the imperial chamberlains will appoint one of their faction to sit the Obsidian Throne as Regent.” Croatius muttered bitterly, addressing the First by his name as the man pulled him insistently on down the ornate winding Kalemian shale corridors, the violet light streaming in from the windows from the bright blue midday sun, hanging in the bright green sky above, gleaming over the shale walls in all the shades of the rainbow. 

 

As they approached the massive double doors to the assembly yard beyond, the air began to thrum with thousands of voices chanting as one beyond. Croatius stumbled to a stop suddenly, as he was finally able to make out what the assembled armies of the Empire were yelling through the door beyond. “I cannot do this Lincian! I cannot be the emperor all of you need!” He yelled running his hands down his face in anxiety as thousands of voices screamed out beyond, over and over again: “Croatius! Croatius! Croatius!”

 

He sat down with a huff leaning back against the doors in indecision with his head resting against the thick wooden doors, the vibrations from the chanting men rattling his skull as his First sank to one knee before him, reaching out to grasp his shoulder; squeezing it reassuringly as he said softly: “The men have chosen you my liege!” Primus Croatius looked up to meet the man’s intense gaze, his hazel eyes hardening in resolve.

 

Chaos: Worlds Beyond paperback,  mobile

About the Author

C.W. Holcomb’s works are based on Ancient Myths and folklore. His first
series is heavily based on Scottish Folklore of werebeasts that prowl the
primordial forests in the distant past! The first novel of his newest
series, Chaos: Worlds Beyond is inspired heavily by Greek Mythology; as well
as works by well known authors such as C.S. Lewis, J.R.R Tolkien and Raymond
E. Feist. The works are filled with passion and adventure on an epic scale
where the lure of magical treasures incites the characters into traveling to
strange and dangerous magical Worlds filled with Nightmarish monsters and
sentient arcane artifacts!

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Promo Link

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

B&N

B-A-M

IndieBound

 

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Blood Feud TOUR

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Blood Feud cover

The Legends of Ansu (Book 9)
Epic Fantasy
Date Published: July 16, 2020
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Jaran Saerk is an exile from the North, driven out of his homeland by a
sorceress who killed his family. Now serving as a warrior in the armies of
the Imperial Shen, he’s never forgotten his vow to avenge his family
and take back what is rightfully his.
Recently captured, Savarna hides a dark secret and doesn’t plan on
staying a slave for long. Once she’s escaped, she’ll slip inside
the Golden Palace and kill the Empress of Shen. When she meets the exiled
warrior from the North, she finally may have her chance.
Finvar the Droll is a retired thief who insists he can help Jaran in his
revenge against the witch. But whose side is he really on?
With enemies surrounding them on all sides, the trio must unite to stay
alive in a realm trapped between war and sorcery, and to take down the witch
Sheega before she destroys them all.
Blood Feud tablet

EXCERPT

Bera gazed out from the cabin as the flakes swirled and settled, hiding the track through the woods, obscuring tree line and sky above. She gazed up into that blanket of white, hearing the cry of geese winging south somewhere far above. Lucky birds––escaping from this place.

No escape for her.

The wind cried chill and far off, deeper in the forest, she heard wolf voices calling out to each other. Bera wiped damp from her hair and stamped her feet. She should go inside, see to young Jaran. He’d be hungry again soon. Her son was always hungry. Like his father, Jaran came from fighting stockthe Jarle’s eldest son was the best warrior on the island. But where was Hrelgi now? What had come over him, tramping off to the hall in such a manner, with the promise of winter storm to come? That temper would ruin them all.

Her husband had left three hours ago, and night beckoned. Night was no longer safe. Not even for him. It was scarce ten miles to the hall where Hrelgi’s father held power.

Or tried to…

 A short trip––even in this weatherand Hrelgi was strong and clad in the finest wool and furs. He should be here with them. Hrelgi’s business with the Jarle could have waited until morning. Jaran needed his father.

Bera chewed her lip and shivered as the wild creatures called out from the forest. Not that she was worried about those––for her or her beloved. They were just beasts. Hrelgi was more than a match for any creature or man. Stalwart and steadfastunlike his brother and father, both lesser men in Bera’s opinion. But she who now resided inside that hall was another matter.

Sheega

Bera repressed a shiver when she thought of that woman. It was all so strange, uncanny even. Sheega. The beautiful enigmatic foreigner had appeared like a drow out of the mist, scarce two weeks before the untimely death of Casla, Jarle Hrund’s beloved spouse. 

Poor Casla had been found floating face down, drowned in the river. No witnesses, just a body floating out to sea, seen by fishers leaving at dawn. She’d been a good swimmer, Casla. Strange. 

Jarle Hrund should be in mourning. Instead the old fool was caught like a wasp in amber. Hooked and trapped by those canny blue eyes and clever, beautiful face. Sheega ruled the hall these days. Word was, she came from cursed Dunnehine far to the east. Bera could believe it. The woman was as frightening as the rumors of that strange land.

She’d warned Hrelgi to stay put. “Don’t provoke that woman. Your father’s folly is not your affair,” she’d yelled at him as Hrelgi had strode off through the snow, his axe hanging at waist belt and a short bow slung across his shoulders.

He’d turned once and blown her a kiss, his fair hair lifting in the wind. “I’ll return before dusk, sweetheart,” he’d told her, the liar.

Bera glanced up again. Quiet, calm. The wind had eased back, and an icy chill settled in the crack of willow branches surrounding her. She knew something was amiss. Call it female intuition, but every fiber in her body urged Bera to wrap Jaran in swaddling furs and leave this place. But where to go, and what about her man? She heard a scream from inside and Bera felt an icy chill cramp her stomach.

Jaran was crying. That boy never wept. She ran into the room, blinking as warmth and hearth-light dazzled her. Jaran lay face down on the floor. He’d fallen from the cot. He wasn’t crying now. He was gazing up at her with those knowing blue eyes. His gaze shifted to the door, left ajar from her passage. Bera turned as the wind returned sharply and blasted the coals across the little room. A man stood there. Tall, stooped. His face shadowed by a hood, and gloved hands reaching out for the boy.

“I’ve come to take your son.” The man’s voice was crow-raw as he stooped over mother and child. Bera shrieked and reached for her hidden knife.

Grabbing its bone handle, she stabbed upward at his shadowy face. He didn’t blink, but a gloved fist snatched the knife from her grasp with eerie speed. “You don’t need that,” the stranger said with that rope-rough voice. “I am not your enemy, woman––but rather one who would help you.”

“Unlikely words for a specter in the eve of night,” Bera hissed, and gazing down at Jaran marked how quiet and calm he was. Unafraid. Curious. A warrior. The child seemed at ease in the presence of this stranger. Reluctantly, Bera tore her gaze from Jaran and glared up at the man holding her knife. So hard to see his face inside that hood.

He flipped the blade deftly through gloved fingers, then tossed it into the oak mantle, where it quivered twice and settled. Jaran giggled as though approving.

“We’re short on time, Bera Ormesdottir,” the raw voice barked, making her jump. “They are coming for the boyJaran will be charcoal embers by dawn if you tarry here.”

“What madness is this?” Bera lashed out with a fist. 

Again, he was quicker, catching her wrist and lowering her arm, none too gently. He slapped her face with his free hand. “Give me the boy.” 

“My husband will be here soon,” she said. “He’ll cut out your knave’s heart for striking a Jarle’s daughter.”

The stranger laughed, his cold gray eyes blazing like winter stars. “Hrelgi cannot help you, girl. She will cast the runes. Soon the hunt will range out, by order of your father the Jarle, and led by your husband’s brother.”

“How do you know this? What is it that they hunt?” Bera felt the icy stab of dread again. Hrelgi.

“Hasn’t long to live.” The uncanny stranger nodded briskly, his sharp eyes pinning her gaze. “I can save you, Bera. But first I must take this boy.”


About the Author


J. W. Webb is an English writer living in Georgia. Mostly he writes
fantasy, though sometimes diverts in even stranger directions. His epic
saga, The Legends of Ansu, blends the mystic grandeur of J.R.R. Tolkien with
the gritty realism of George R.R. Martin. Webb’s characters are three
dimensional and flawed, their world a tapestry of vivid color and constant
motion. All the books feature beautiful sketches by the late Tolkien
illustrator, Roger Garland. When he’s not writing, he spends his time
in the garden or attending to the demands of his cat-overlords and dog
companions.
Contact Links
Purchase Link
Read FREE with Kindle Unlimited

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Chaos Worlds Beyond Blitz

Chaos Worlds Beyond banner

Chaos Worlds Beyond cover

Reflections of Infinity, Book 1

Epic Fantasy

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

Amid the power struggle for a vast Empire, a young boy is swept along with
a Tribe of fearless warriors on their Quest to the Mystical uncharted
Crimson World!

As young gods fall to the Worlds from the stars they are born in, appearing
as comets streaking across the sky; sentient magical artifacts call to the
minds of men: calling with images and promises of power from Wild Worlds.
Massive and strange they hold gigantic monsters and wonders that are beyond
the scope of the imaginations of the fearless Tribe of warriors that dare to
magically travel to them!

 

Chaos Worlds Beyond tablet

 

EXCERPT

 

Within the Obsidian Throne room of the

Imperial Palace

PREMERA

 

Primus Croatius! The men request your presence in the anteroom immediately!
His First said, gasping in excitement. The young soldier spun around, his
obsidian armor gleaming as he threw his arms out toward the door and the
winding hall beyond, before turning and staring at his Primus, who also
happened to be his hero coming up through the ranks, saying with a glint in
his gray eyes: “my Leader, surely you have heard! The Emperor is
DEAD!”

Primus Croatius slowly turned around to look at his underling, shaking his
head with a deep sigh, his hazel eyes glancing down at the ground in demur
melancholy, his Premerian obsidian armor clinking at the hinges over his
large frame: softened slightly with Palace living in the past few weeks.
Overall he thought he looked pretty good for a man of thirty eight
sunstrokes, with not one single touch of gray in his thick wavy black
hair.

“Why are you so enthused? Our Emperor died today.” He said
getting up to walk with the First toward the door anyway. “My Leader,
the chamberlains plan to place a mere child on the throne as an heir!
Surely, you know what must be done my liege!” Primus Croatius stopped
in his tracks, staring over at the man in consternation, narrowing his hazel
eyes as he asked: “did you speak of this to the men?” The First
looked away from his gaze, his face going red as he stuttered: “y-yes
I spoke to them, and they are all behind you my Leader! He said, his deep
set brown eyes pleading above his angular clean shaven face.

“Come now Lincian. You know as well as I that the imperial
chamberlains will appoint one of their faction to sit the Obsidian Throne as
Regent.” Croatius muttered bitterly, addressing the First by his name
as the man pulled him insistently on down the ornate winding Kalemian shale
corridors, the violet light streaming in from the windows from the bright
blue midday sun, hanging in the bright green sky above, gleaming over the
shale walls in all the shades of the rainbow.

As they approached the massive double doors to the assembly yard beyond,
the air began to thrum with thousands of voices chanting as one beyond.
Croatius stumbled to a stop suddenly, as he was finally able to make out
what the assembled armies of the Empire were yelling through the door
beyond. “I cannot do this Lincian! I cannot be the emperor all of you
need!” He yelled running his hands down his face in anxiety as
thousands of voices screamed out beyond, over and over again:
“Croatius! Croatius! Croatius!” 3

He sat down with a huff leaning back against the doors in indecision with
his head resting against the thick wooden doors, the vibrations from the
chanting men rattling his skull as his First sank to one knee before him,
reaching out to grasp his shoulder; squeezing it reassuringly as he said
softly: “The men have chosen you my liege!” Primus Croatius
looked up to meet the man’s intense gaze, his hazel eyes hardening in
resolve.

 

About the Author

C.W. Holcomb’s works are based on Ancient Myths and folklore. His first
series is heavily based on Scottish Folklore of werebeasts that prowl the
primordial forests in the distant past! The first novel of his newest
series, Chaos: Worlds Beyond is inspired heavily by Greek Mythology; as well
as works by well known authors such as C.S. Lewis, J.R.R Tolkien and Raymond
E. Feist. The works are filled with passion and adventure on an epic scale
where the lure of magical treasures incites the characters into traveling to
strange and dangerous magical Worlds filled with Nightmarish monsters and
sentient arcane artifacts!

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Promo Link

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

B&N

B-A-M

IndieBound

 

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

1 Comment

Filed under BOOKS

Blood Feud RELEASE Blitz

Blood Feud banner

Blood Feud cover

The Legends of Ansu (Book 9)

Epic Fantasy

Date Published: July 16, 2020

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 

Jaran Saerk is an exile from the North, driven out of his homeland by a
sorceress who killed his family. Now serving as a warrior in the armies of
the Imperial Shen, he’s never forgotten his vow to avenge his family
and take back what is rightfully his.

Recently captured, Savarna hides a dark secret and doesn’t plan on
staying a slave for long. Once she’s escaped, she’ll slip inside
the Golden Palace and kill the Empress of Shen. When she meets the exiled
warrior from the North, she finally may have her chance.

Finvar the Droll is a retired thief who insists he can help Jaran in his
revenge against the witch. But whose side is he really on?

With enemies surrounding them on all sides, the trio must unite to stay
alive in a realm trapped between war and sorcery, and to take down the witch
Sheega before she destroys them all.

About the Author

 J. W. Webb is an English writer living in Georgia. Mostly he writes
fantasy, though sometimes diverts in even stranger directions. His epic
saga, The Legends of Ansu, blends the mystic grandeur of J.R.R. Tolkien with
the gritty realism of George R.R. Martin. Webb’s characters are three
dimensional and flawed, their world a tapestry of vivid color and constant
motion. All the books feature beautiful sketches by the late Tolkien
illustrator, Roger Garland. When he’s not writing, he spends his time
in the garden or attending to the demands of his cat-overlords and dog
companions.

 

 

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

Goodreads

 

 

Purchase Link

Amazon 

Read FREE with Kindle Unlimited

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on Blood Feud RELEASE Blitz

Filed under BOOKS

Blood Feud Teaser

Blood Feud banner

Blood Feud cover

The Legends of Ansu (Book 9)

Epic Fantasy

Date Published: July 16, 2020

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 

Jaran Saerk is an exile from the North, driven out of his homeland by a
sorceress who killed his family. Now serving as a warrior in the armies of
the Imperial Shen, he’s never forgotten his vow to avenge his family
and take back what is rightfully his.

Recently captured, Savarna hides a dark secret and doesn’t plan on
staying a slave for long. Once she’s escaped, she’ll slip inside
the Golden Palace and kill the Empress of Shen. When she meets the exiled
warrior from the North, she finally may have her chance.

Finvar the Droll is a retired thief who insists he can help Jaran in his
revenge against the witch. But whose side is he really on?

With enemies surrounding them on all sides, the trio must unite to stay
alive in a realm trapped between war and sorcery, and to take down the witch
Sheega before she destroys them all.

 

Excerpt

 

A huge figure knelt by a roaring blaze. A shaggy haired man he appeared,
with corded muscle and barrel-chest. He wore a kilt, but no cloak to cover
his naked torso. Like Jaran, the stranger bore many scars on that flesh. And
on closer inspection, he saw the man had only one arm. A distant memory
flickered through him. And a name.

Tyho.

The one-armed warrior. A god of the north. Jaran knew the god was testing
him. Despite his fear he stepped out, approached the crouched figure, who
looked up casually as he walked close.

“Your friends worry that you’ve left them, Jaran Saerk.”
The voice was a gravel-scrape and thunder boom, those eyes glints of blazing
sliver fire, the moonlight trapped inside.

“I needed time alone.” Jaran shoulder-tossed the elk in front
of the god as a gift. He heard it boded ill, meeting Tyho the War God alone
in the wild. “Time to think.”

“A gift for a gift.” Tyho rose to his feet, standing massive
before Jaran. He reached behind his back and produced a huge long-hafted
axe. “Your enemies are closing. You will need Griner to kill
them.”

Jaran felt uneasy. Why would Tyho want to help him? And what would he ask
for in return? Despite his misgivings, he gripped the weapon and thanked the
god. Tyho pinned him with that terrible gaze. “Use it well. Griner
belonged to Borian once, before that deity perished in the timeless wars. It
serves you now—in the new struggle.”

“You mean against the witch, Sheega?” Jaran hefted the axe. It
was heavy, the intricate rune markings glinted on its beard. He sensed power
in the weapon. Felt strength flowing into his arms. Strength and something
else. A slow burning rage. “I will avenge my father,” he told
the god.

“You had best go back,” Tyho said, his silver eyes blazing.
“Your little camp is under attack.”

 

 

 

About the Author

 J. W. Webb is an English writer living in Georgia. Mostly he writes
fantasy, though sometimes diverts in even stranger directions. His epic
saga, The Legends of Ansu, blends the mystic grandeur of J.R.R. Tolkien with
the gritty realism of George R.R. Martin. Webb’s characters are three
dimensional and flawed, their world a tapestry of vivid color and constant
motion. All the books feature beautiful sketches by the late Tolkien
illustrator, Roger Garland. When he’s not writing, he spends his time
in the garden or attending to the demands of his cat-overlords and dog
companions.

 

 

 

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

Goodreads

 

 

Purchase Link

Amazon 

Read FREE with Kindle Unlimited

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on Blood Feud Teaser

Filed under BOOKS