Hello, readers mine… er… so, many of you know that I publish through Smashwords. You may have been wondering why. You see, Smashwords is an aggregator. This does require a lot more work on my end–the books have to be cleaned of behind-the-scenes junk code by copying the raw text into Notepad, copying it back, […]
–the Necromancer and the Reaping Spear is a book you can buy right now–
Hello, readers mine. I’m feeling a bit better today. A fortunate change, for it’s today I’ve chosen as the day I’ll throw together some cover art for this leviathan of a book. It’s already formatted for Smashwords, so I hope to have it finished out and submitted to the self-publishing process by the end of […]
Winter rains streamed down black bows and dribbled along emerald creepers. Somewhere downhill, through the storm-misted labyrinth of the bogs, a creature chirped deep from its gullet.
They stood upon rust-colored ground in a liminal space. Overhanging crags and shattered boulders filled it farther than the eye could see along its longest axis.
Roiling plumes, flecked by coursing shapes like obsidian shards, swam about a striated stony pathway. Dusky glows seeped through the encroaching clouds.
Faint primal impulses flooded Urzen. They called him to stand. To clench his fists. To bellow, stalk, hunt until he found prey worth the killing!
Hello, readers mine! Today I’ve started on line-edits for The Necromancer and the Reaping Spear. The total number of preview chapters will be greater this time, partly due to chopping a couple of over-long ones in half, partly because I’m going to share two that I previously didn’t. Each preview chapter I post will arrive […]
(Editorial Note, Nov. 29 2020: I’ve left this post up for posterity, but if you haven’t already, you should read this one first: Making Points, Mental Health, and the Necromancer’s Vengeance Series (northbornsword.blog) –in short, yes, everything written and posted today on the 29th is something I was fighting myself over when I wrote and […]
Divari held back a whimper.
It was not for want of heartening beauty nor factual security that she hugged herself, sometimes, when she thought no one was looking. Her spirit did not abide here. It was caught elsewhere still.