Inkitt’s New and Noteworthy Fantasy

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Inkitt is a publisher that champions writers by providing them with a platform to showcase their writing to the thousands of readers on Inkitt, who are free to read as-yet-unpublished gems in a range of genres: fantasy, science fiction, horror, romance, humour, thriller, or mystery.

Today I’m posting a bit about the fantasy ebooks Inkitt loves, and those ebooks that harbour fantasy worlds you really want to lose yourself in. Click on the banners and take a quick read of the variety of fantasy. If one takes your fancy you can take a closer look at the book page’s description and an extract, or even the whole story. Some ebooks are entered in contests and you are encouraged to reserve a copy if you want to read the whole ebook, which is exciting.

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Inkitt is a team of friendly professionals who are committed to helping soon-to-be authors connect with their readers. Inkitt doesn’t discriminate based on subjective taste, preferring to differentiate itself from the traditional way of selecting which books should become bestsellers. What’s great about this is that it encourages diversity in writing in niche genres, as well as mainstream ones, and can give those authors hope that they can reach more readers and have the potential to become bestsellers, especially with the online tools on their account dashboard. Here is a bit about Inkitt, in its own words:

“For those of you who are not familiar with Inkitt, they are the first readers-driven book publisher and a fast growing community for emerging authors and book lovers.

Inkitt’s mission is to help rising talent get discovered: as readers read novels on the Inkitt website (or their iOS app), the Inkitt algorithm analyzes reading behavior to predict future bestsellers. If readers love it, Inkitt publishes it! To date Inkitt has published 5 books with 6 more on the way.
If you’re looking for new and noteworthy novels, then definitely have a look at these reading lists. Discover these hidden gems and help new talent shine!”
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To Review – Phoenix

Yes, I’m showing off!

Author Daccari Buchelli is a fellow author with Asperger Syndrome who also writes in the fantasy genre. I agreed to review his story Phoenix (Book 1 of the Peradon fantasy series), and he kindly signed it for me. I’m looking forward to finishing reading. I will be posting the review on alexjameseditor.com/blog Why not started reading it with me, and let me and/or the author know what you thought about it?

Phoenix by Daccari Buchelli

Phoenix by Daccari Buchelli

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phoenix by Daccari Buchelli

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Daccari Buchelli’s website

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Lighthouse School Visit

Thank you for your welcome!

Lighthouse School Photo 1


Lighthouse School Photo 2
Lighthouse School Photo 3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Some of my books photographed in the Lighthouse School library, as well as a display.)

On 4th November 2016 I had the pleasure of visiting the Lighthouse School, which is a school in Cookridge, Leeds for young people with an autistic spectrum condition or related communication disorder.

I was kindly invited and welcomed by teachers Caroline Maston and Lisa Mitchell. I was there to speak about my experiences as a writer in the hope that I could help encourage the students. I had an informal talk with several of the students, who asked well considered questions, such as how long it takes me to write a story, how I keep my writing going, and what advice I would give to young authors. I thoroughly enjoyed visiting the school and meeting the teachers and students; there was a nice atmosphere and I would be happy to visit again.

I hope the students continue with their interest in writing, and I’m sure they have a lot to write about 🙂

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Publisher Inkitt launches new iOS app

Today Inkitt is introducing an iOS app for iPhone and iPad available to readers globally. The iOS app will give book lovers and publishers greater access to Inkitt’s digital library of over 80,000 stories by up-and-coming authors. Key features include:

  • Access to 80,000 stories in every genre: fantasy, sci-fi, romance, thriller, horror, adventure, action and more
  • Personalized suggestions: hand-picked novels based on reader’s preferences
  • App customization according to user preferences (e.g. font size, colors)
  • Online/Offline: readers can save novels to their offline library to access them without an internet connection

Inkitt’s iOS app was released in beta in Australia and Canada earlier this year and is now available for download globally here:

Inkitt App

 

Screenshots

 

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Demonstration video

Introducing Inkitt for iOS: Read great novels by up-and-coming authors on your iPhone and iPad from Inkitt – The Hipster’s Library on Vimeo.

Demonstration video: https://vimeo.com/189025933

About Inkitt

Inkitt, the world’s first algorithm-based book publisher, helps readers and publishers to discover the world’s next bestsellers. On the surface, Inkitt is a platform where writers can share their novels and readers can unearth fresh content. But under the hood, Inkitt has built an algorithm which analyzes reading patterns to predict future bestsellers. Using this unique data- and readers-driven approach to uncover stories, Inkitt’s goal is to remove the middle person so that a blockbuster book is never rejected by a publishing house again. Using this unique data-driven approach, Inkitt aims to help emerging writers achieve their dreams of getting published by becoming a point of reference for publishers In other words, if readers love it, Inkitt publishes it.

Back in April, Inkitt announced the signing of the platform’s first algorithm-chosen novel. Since July, Inkitt has published another 3 novels, two of which became bestsellers in their respective categories upon launch. In less than 2 years, Inkitt has attracted over 700,000 unique readers.

Inkitt’s bestsellers

inkitt-bestsellers-picture

 

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Marcellus: Origins – Page 6 Preview

‘That dark domed edifice you see rising beyond the walkways, is the Tower of Banuk,’ Cress informed him.

On their march Cress had seen it as his responsibility to make him aware of the various landmarks they had passed, and the Tower of Banuk wouldn’t have been an exception if it had not been the intended destination. Though the brief names and basic facts given about the landmarks piqued his interest on occasion, nothing was committed to memory because he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts: his purpose among a group that was full with an intent he didn’t understand.

From the way Cress treated him, it was obvious he had a privileged status as the bearer of the cloak, compared with the other soldiers or any ordinary Tekromun. He began to understand that they couldn’t dispose of him without disposing of the cloak, which was knowledge he could use for his survival. He was unsure how he felt about being special, but it may keep him alive until he learnt more about his strange predicament.

‘Why are there no walkways connecting to the Tower, Commander? How does a Tekromun gain entry?’

‘That is a mystery none of us know,’ Cress admitted.

‘Do they suspect an attack, Commander?’

Cress sighed, ignored his question, and proceeded to inspect the ranks behind him to ensure there was adequate discipline. Marcellus could vaguely sense their anxiety.

‘We don’t know, but we’ll have to try to attack them,’ Cress said fatalistically.

‘We can’t reach the Tower without dropping to the Black Chasm, and none of us can fly, Commander…’

‘I know, we’ll think of a stratagem.’

They camped on the edge of the walkway. For the rest of the day they didn’t see anything move outside or within the Tower. It stood there motionlessly, as if it was abandoned.

The Tekromuns started to fall asleep, their armour clinking and rustling unsettlingly. Their loud snores irritated Marcellus, for he wanted greater awareness of his surroundings now that it was dark.

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Marcellus: Origins – Page 5 Preview

‘You are unusual,’ Commander Cress stated brusquely, striding at the head of the armed unit.

Marcellus silently considered his words.

Commander Cress had huge rippling purple muscles on his arms and legs. He wore steel chain-mail, a spiked helmet, and shoulder-plates. As he surged forward, the ranks followed behind swiftly, and Marcellus had opportunity to study this Tekromun.

Cress wasn’t remarkable in appearance, but he was in bearing. He carried himself proudly, rather than aggressively or violently. It could have been his high rank, he reasoned, but there did seem to be something different about him. It was ironic, after having heard Cress’ first words to Marcellus.

‘We are going to the Sorcerers of Banuk?’

Cress’ gaze was vicious as his head spun to face Marcellus, his sickly green eyes flaring in warning.

‘Never address a Tekromun Officer without first acknowledging his rank!’ Cress reprimanded.

Marcellus bowed his head in acknowledgement.

‘Commander, are we visiting the Sorcerers of Banuk?’ Marcellus tried again.

‘Yes, we’re going to visit them with an invasion,’ Cress replied, seething with impatience.

‘Is that wise … Commander?’ Marcellus added ruefully.

‘They are our orders, given by Mighty Warlord Aerol. We must obey, regardless of what we think of them,’ Aerol confided.

The armed march was at a fast pace, but he felt as if things were moving slowly. Their progression covered expanses of long grey bridges and walkways. He had no idea how far they would have to march, and he had a headache from the beating he had received only yesterday. Nobody seemed to have noticed the mess that was his face, perhaps because some of the company were guilty of having caused it. It didn’t bother him, for he couldn’t remember the faces of his attackers; they were like phantoms that had come at him too fast for him to perceive and register as reality. Besides, if he had to blame one Tekromun, he would have blamed Aerol.

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Marcellus: Origins – Page 4 Preview

The terrifying images of yesterday’s fight came rushing back in the morning, causing his heart to beat very fast.

He knew he wouldn’t survive another harsh beating. It was likely that he already had severe internal head damage, or at least it felt as if he had, though his knowledge of the extent of damage was limited to his physical perception.

The Tekromun Guard unlocked the cell door and beckoned Marcellus out. Marcellus felt timid, and was slow to respond. The Tekromun Guard yanked him out and dragged him by what was left of the fine black hair on his head. Small tufts of hair had been falling out, presumably because of the swelling on his face. Marcellus submitted, if only to avoid further harsh treatment or physical violence.

Marcellus was led outside, in broad daylight, and then up a flight of concrete steps to a higher level, where there was a spacious chamber that had windows that were open to the air. Marcellus was ushered inside and thrown before a Tekromun sat on a large luxurious brown couch, at odds with the dull appearance of the grey featureless chamber.

He lifted his heavy head to see the figure on the couch, which was set against the wall.

The Tekromun was muscular and lean, wearing only a loin-cloth and golden bracelets and anklets. His white eyes spoke of violence and murder, having only a small black pupil in the middle.

‘My name is Aerol. I saw you enter the building of my headquarters. Are you a spy, and if you are why wear that distinguishable black cloak?’

‘I’m not a spy, I entered without knowing whose building it was,’ Marcellus spoke softly.

‘We tried to rip your cloak off, but it wouldn’t be removed. Is it a weapon?’ Aerol spoke threateningly.

‘I don’t know what it is,’ Marcellus confessed helplessly.

‘Wrong answer!’ Aerol said icily.

‘The cloak doesn’t come off. We have tried everything possible,’ the Guard behind him grunted in a deep voice.

Aerol nodded and began to speak in guttural tones. He raised his mottled purple fingers to his pink thin lips, and looked speculative.

‘If it is a weapon, then it is one we know nothing of. The other Warlords have not developed anything this advanced that we know of.’

‘It could be sorcery, Mighty Warlord!’ the Tekromun Guard boldly suggested, promptly bowing afterwards to signal his subservience.

‘Yes, it could be…’ Aerol pondered. ‘The Sorcerers of Banuk are potent and secretive. It is conceivable they could have created such a cloak.’

They spoke as if Marcellus was not there to hear their words. Aerol wasn’t even looking at him. It was the cloak they were interested in. As far as they were concerned it was only an accident that it was attached to him, or at least he hoped they thought that.

Aerol’s face pressed close to Marcellus’, and he breathed his next words in rapid succession:

‘I need that cloak, or a weapon that can help me defeat the other Warlords. You will be the key to achieving my aims. Do not cross me!’ he finished, sitting back up and looking back at the Tekromun Guard he had been speaking to earlier.

Marcellus did not even consider betraying Aerol. There was something sinister about his threats and his bearing. Besides, it wasn’t as if Marcellus had any other option, for he knew very little of this world and its inhabitants, though their appearance was similar.

Marcellus nodded briefly.

‘Good,’ Aerol cooed in mock humour. ‘Summon Commander Cress here immediately! Take this individual back to his cell, and double the guard; he will be very important to us I am sure.’

The Tekromun Guard nodded and roughly yanked Marcellus by the neck to lift him up.

‘Wait!’ the steel tone of Warlord Aerol resounded.

There was a palpable stillness in the air.

‘What is your name?’ Aerol demanded.

‘Marcellus,’ he replied obediently.

‘Ensure Marcellus is not harmed!’ Aerol commanded, switching his glance to the Guard.

The Guard nodded meekly, and instead gestured for Marcellus to follow, which he did.

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Marcellus: Origins – Page 3 Preview

When Marcellus came to his senses, he found that he was in some darkened cell. It was night again, he could tell from the window set in the ceiling, which was far out of reach. There were no glorious stars to behold, only a chill wind to make him feel more uncomfortable. His face felt numb, and he had a nasty stomach ache whenever he sat up or bent.

He took a tour of the cell, but there was only a wooden bench.

Why? Why was I burdened with the cloak? Why can’t I even take it off?

Marcellus was very confused, just as much as he was by the actions of the Tekromun Guards. Who would have ordered the activities of the day to be ceased in order to attack a lone Tekromun who happened to wear a black cloak?

It didn’t make sense.

It was true that he hadn’t seen anybody else wearing a cloak, but Tekromuns still wore contrasting clothes.

Possession: they must have wanted the cloak for themselves.

The truth of it hit him like a wave. He wondered where all these truths came from, and why they seemed to be self-evident in hindsight. Was it to do with the cloak, or was it just how he was? He hadn’t lived long, so he couldn’t make an accurate assessment.

As Marcellus sampled the material of the cloak between his fingers, he realised that it was fine, of a high quality and very nice. It was therefore understandable why somebody would want it…

Marcellus pondered many questions in his imprisonment. Food and drink were pushed through the bottom of the cell door, which was too thin to crawl through. Sometimes he heard the thudding feet of guards outside. Besides the chill wind, Marcellus spent the night alone, huddled in the quiet on the wooden bench that was his one companion.

When day came Marcellus’ face felt ruined. Parts of it would drip blood, and the aches it gave him were unbearable. The sharp pains sometimes caused him to yell in agony. The pains and aches gave him headaches, but overall his head and mind still felt numb.

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Marcellus Origins – Page 2 Preview

He woke alive, to a bright new day. The sun shone powerfully through the layers of grey mist that swirled in the sky above. Marcellus sat up and rubbed his head. It took a moment before he remembered the nightmare that had assailed him last night.

He jolted at the creepy silken sensation at his back; and leapt upwards, staring behind at the long black cloak, which swept by his ankles, and was fastened to his neck by a chrome clasp. It was unbreakable, he realised with consternation, tugging at it with his primitive hands.

It took time for Marcellus to realise that he could hear voices, and even see purplish beings moving on the balconies of grey buildings all around him.

Am I one of them?

He walked to the entrance of the building on his left, still struggling to rip off the chrome clasp that bound him to this unknown evil.

Everything was going fine before this burden…

It appeared that he was standing in a lobby that was bustling with creatures that looked as he assumed he must to them. After all, what else would he look like?

Around him, there were slender females standing behind desks with easy smiles on their faces, and large muscle-bound brutish guards positioned around the circumference, with implacable expressions painted on the sculpted musculature of their faces. The contrast between the two types of creatures was confusing to him at first, before he realised how much shorter and slimmer he was than the guards, despite having their body hair.

Am I a third type?

He glanced at the females first, and their smiles elicited a pleasant uplifting sensation in his heart, before it was momentarily cut off by the dangerous glare of a nearby guard. As with the other guards, he proudly hefted a large pole-axe, and while Marcellus’ eyes were meeting his, he looked like he was going to move the weapon into an attacking stance if eye contact was maintained for a moment longer; and so Marcellus shrunk away from the bad emanating aura of intimidation, which he could somehow sense, because he didn’t know how to react safely..

As he proceeded further into the lobby he realised that he felt quite exposed. Groups of these purple creatures started to point or gesture to their friends.

Marcellus felt like he stood out.

Marcellus?

He had just realised that was his name.

Powerfully aggressive Tekromun Guards closed-in on his position, hefting great silver pole-axes and bearing armour that resembled silver exo-skeletons, which hid the hues of their skin behind the bright reflective flashes that rebounded from them.

There was a dozen of them, surrounding him and muttering curses. Their slow and ponderous gasping breaths were marked by their large chests repeatedly pushing the armour up and down.

Marcellus was much shorter than these Guards.

Why do these Guards wear exo-skeleton armour?

Marcellus scanned the lobby for the explanation. He noticed that the general populace was scurrying out of the exits, as if aware that something dangerous or violent was afoot. The slender female receptionists were escorted out of the spacious lobby discreetly, leaving the place empty.

‘Take that cloak off!’ one of the brutes barked, before Marcellus was able to ask why he was being accosted.

‘Why?’ Marcellus challenged back boldly, his back upright.

The closest brute stepped forward and slashed downwards in a heavy arc. Marcellus stepped to the side easily enough, just avoiding the vibrating hum of the axe.

The attacker paused, as if at a loss because he had missed. The others narrowed their eyes, and their perverted breathing increased in tempo.

‘Take the cloak off now!’ a slightly taller and more commanding Tekromun Guard ordered with an imperious finger pointed at the chrome clasp.

Marcellus considered taking the cloak off, to avoid further confrontation. His hands grappled with the chrome clasps, but it was futile. The chrome was too hard and solid, and the black cloak seemed to be magically bonded with it.

His struggle continued for a few moments, while the Tekromun Guards watched quietly.

‘I can’t,’ Marcellus breathed in frustration, giving up and letting his hands fall to his sides.

‘Take him!’ the commanding Tekromun Guard ordered.

They converged forward. Marcellus felt threatened, and didn’t want to be handled against his will. He prepared for combat, spinning on his toe and evading the first oncoming assailant.

The remainder crossed the floor in swift large strides, their pole-axes crashing down upon his space. Marcellus stopped the progress of a pole-axe by grabbing its handle and using force to try and wrestle it away, but the Tekromun was too strong, and threw him off. Marcellus landed to the floor painfully.

A pole-axe smashed the floor beside his head, causing splinters to avalanche to his left. Marcellus rolled forward, and was back on his feet. He used his thumb to attack the eye of a Tekromun Guard, and then rolled backwards. But a brute grabbed his waist and squeezed tightly. A moment later the handle of a pole-axe thudded heavily into his stomach, winding him.

Marcellus looked downward, not even seeing his attackers as he fought against the tidal impact of the pole-axe handle. The Tekromun who had grabbed him threw him powerfully to the floor, and stood on his shoulder, pinning him.

They turned him around and pummelled his face with their wide fists, using their full weight to smash his face in. Marcellus couldn’t even feel the blows, but he could feel his face becoming a distorted mess as each blow landed too quickly for him to count.

He blacked out.

Marcellus Origins – Chapters 1-5 PDF

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Marcellus Origins – Page 1 Preview

From a distance it was beautiful, like a shining beacon of tranquillity and hope. Its lighted ambience caressed the near distances of the long thin bridge upon which it sat. Its brilliance showered the dark empty depths beneath, as if suffusing the area with something too pure to exist. The bright rounded egg began to pulse, shadowed by the odd few brownish splotches. As it hummed and glowed with warmth, it altered colour; changing from a pinkish-white, to a blood-red, and then to an indigo colour. The glowing lime-green mucus membrane of its surface stretched tentatively. Progressively the stretches became more forceful. There were mild tremors close to the bottom of the egg. Then there was suddenly a “plop” noise.

Out came a limb, darkly indigo and hairy, with ivory claws at the end. The long pointed claws ripped the wall of the lime-green mucus egg shell apart. These were claws with a purpose.

The hand-shaped purple protrusion reached out far. It rotated a few times, and then grasped at the cool atmosphere outside.

Coughing and spluttering with all the mucus spread over his exterior, he hatched.

The thick black birth hairs on his arms and chest began to recede, fading into the tough purplish skin of his young and supple body. He had toned muscles all over, coating his body with bulk. He was now stood erect, and he regarded his impressive physical stature with pride.

His sharp teeth cut into his lip, his nose felt chunky, and his jaw was heavy like a jutting cliff. It was as if ages of physical change had occurred. He stretched his wide shoulders and broad chest a few times, and roared loudly to express his might.

It was night, and the stars twinkled invitingly.

Marcellus considered them, and thought about a word, but it didn’t rise to his perception immediately. He had to think the concept over, for the juices inside his brain were not used to moving.

Opportunity!

His feet rested upon a long thin bridge, connecting two tall floating grey buildings; floating because of the black chasm that existed below. All of the grey tubular buildings he could see in the distance floated side-by-side. It was how things appeared, he concluded.

There was a faint peach colour on the horizon, marking the start of a new day.

A flicker at the corner of his eyes made him snap his gaze to the right, and then the left. He was acutely aware of some presence close to him that he couldn’t see. It was still dark, but he knew he wouldn’t even have seen this presence during the day.

A cool silky sensation slid down his back, and he spun in fright. A black presence clung to him, enveloping him from behind and clasping together in front of him. He thrashed viciously, suffocated and oppressed by this alien object. It throttled him painfully, and he moaned like an animal; a call for help. Still the silky blackness pushed inwards, cutting off the beauty of the night and hurtling him backwards.

Onto his back, his repeated punches into the black fabric failed to change his situation, and he gasped. The resistance stopped, and he rested in a black cocoon, mental oblivion replacing the cool serenity he had felt upon being born.

Marcellus: Origins – Chapters 1-5 PDF

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