You’re due an extra newsletter this month, on May 21st, which I believe is next Sunday, with an extra promotional offer where you can take advantage of space adventure and swords and sorcery books.
Just a gentle reminder that your next newsletter is coming into your inboxes on this Saturday, May 13th. It will cover some of the interesting reads I was introduced to at last year’s Bradford Literature Festival that since stayed with me, and it will include an epic sci-fi and fantasy promo.
Good morning. I hope you’re enjoying April.
There have been some updates to my blurbs. Getting them the right length is important, so that they’re not too long with boring, inessential information and yet not so short that they’re missing logic that ties all the lines together. I’ve tried to add doubt into my blurb ingredients in the hope it generates interest.
Please do let me know if any further tweaks are needed or if better words can be used.
On a world of fortresses, gone is the age of barbarians when Aerol, their warlord, built his fighting force into warriors powerful enough to defeat any enemy standing before them.
Long-dead enemies haunt Aerol’s mind – enemies that should have been vanquished. He must show them no fear, even if it means sacrificing himself. But when the kind and beautiful Hermena needs Aerol to save an order of scholars from death he’s soon conflicted about his plan.
~ A Tale of Sword & Sorcery, Mana-wielding Heroes and Demons ~
2. On a world of fortresses, gone is the age of barbarians when Aerol, their warlord, built his fighting force into warriors powerful enough to defeat any enemy standing before them.
Now, with Aerol’s old friend bewitched, rumours of a dread sorcerer abound with the fantastical. Aerol refuses to believe the rumours – he cannot allow himself to, for the integrity of the fortress, but when assassination rears its ugly head he needs a plan.
The Fortress holds the key to Aerol’s salvation, if only he can find a way in.
~ A Tale of Sword & Sorcery, Mana-wielding Heroes and Demons ~
I’m reminding myself as much as you folks that I released a prelude for my Warlord of the Lonely Fortress series, and you can either get it for free by signing up to my newsletter, joining select book promotions, or purchasing it at your favourite retailer.
Excerpt of the first sentence: ‘Warlord Aerol was seeing obscure visual memories: formless limbs and faces. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t sleeping.’
Your next newsletter is due on April 22nd. It will contain details of recent launches you may have missed.
The newsletter after that will be arriving in your inboxes on May 13th, and it will include details about my day out at Bradford Literature Festival last year and the books that came to my attention at that time.
There may be an occasional book promo in your newsletters from now on. It’s not official advertising space for other writers but it does help readers find more books and authors that may take their interest. Hopefully, this will mean more readers can find me also.
Your next newsletter will be coming into your inbox on April 1st 2023 – April isn’t far off now. It will be about some of the recent autism insights I’ve had.
As it happens, beyond some autism and reading posts, for the foreseeable few months I’m posting in your newsletters Warlord of the Lonely Fortress extra material so if you want to get some new angles on the book or maybe decide if it’s your thing, you could sign up to my newsletter.
Next Wednesday, March 1st 2023, is release day for Warlord of the Lonely Fortress – Prelude.
And that’s great news because you can purchase it for very little: £0.99 or its equivalent.
The message of this post seems to be: don’t get it free on my mailing list! Purchase it! 😀
In my last newsletter you may have missed the cover reveal for Warlord of the Lonely Fortress – Prelude, completed by the talented Lawrence Mann
You can glimpse the cover on Amazon
If you’d like to read the book before its release on March 1st 2023, then simply join my newsletter and it’ll come to you powered by mana.
They were heading north, and Aerol was among them in the group, spearheading the many relaxed lines of his soldiers as they hastily went to work on the bridges, for a reason that he’d not asked about, but he assumed it was the occasion. That was until he saw his soldiers were hastily folding or sliding the bloodied and battered enemy soldiers away, revealing puddles of smeared blood that could not be hidden.
The fallen scarcely had bodies left, crushed as they had been by brutal warfare, caked with blood; bruises having burst to leak with congealing blood spots. The bodies were dotted all over the place, lying in wait. No pattern to the conflict and attack, but whether they’d been cleared away or whether it was the reason for their demise, was to be seen. Their armour, weapons, and possessions had mostly been stripped, and flimsy tunics and the odd weak segment of mail their only protection from nakedness. Their eyes stared upward in shock, the whites of them chilling to behold.
Did soldiers, or any Tekromun, ever really die? There was something ‘present’ about their stillness. A few shifting noises and grunts preceded his soldiers hurling the bodies off the edge of the bridge, falling to the silent all-encompassing black abyss that they called the chasm that was a spectator in this event. Aerol walked to the edge of the twelve-foot wide bridge, and watched the bodies engulfed by the immensity of the blackness, returning to the womb of the world, until a mist flowed over the chasm to hide it from view. He could hear no roaring or see no magical emanations from the chasm at this time. All was dull.
Aerol shook his head, and then noticed General Cress close by.
‘They looked like soldiers, but with cheap armour. Care to enlighten me, General?’ Aerol said.
General Cress who had been issuing orders calmly close by, turned to answer. His squat body still had heavy armour plates on with gaps to allow for movement and skill – important for Aerol’s soldiers. His helmet rose with a peak, and sat on his head like a squat creature, with its narrow nose-shaped protrusion at the top looking down as if to see Cress’ chubby face with emerald eyes below.
‘It was ridiculous, Aerol. There were soldiers, bandits, warriors, and all manner of odd creatures we’d never seen before. We hacked them and hewed them for years but they kept coming. Then, they stopped early this month. We sent scouts in all directions, and the way was safe. Perhaps we finally beat their numbers. We were gaining ground year on year, after all.’
Aerol crouched on the edge and squinted below, looking into the mist where the enemy soldiers had been swallowed.
‘Yes, Cress, but where did they come from?’
‘Our territories are not so great to know that, Warlord Aerol. I assumed they came from the dilapidated structures that are north-west, which are the usual hideouts for warriors, and there are a few theories from the apprentices they came from the under-surface at specific locations. Even the apprentices don’t know why there was a rise in the population of enemies. Now they’ve been culled, it may not matter until we’ve conquered further.’
Aerol stood and looked back the way they’d come.
Behind him were the onlookers outside the West Dominion: soldiers and lines of civilian spectators forming a semi-circle of expectant faces, or the judgemental faces standing above them on higher ledges from the white-robed apprentices with their arms folded and faces held high above to appraise this event. Where they were now, the expressions had become indistinct, and the impressive West Dominion, encircled by rising white-grey walls that curved to conceal rising turrets and structures that belonged to his fortress and the curious habitations of the city that had grown within his dominion.
‘Apprentices … I rely on them too much and they’re overstretched working on demand for the thriving city that my dominion has become. I can’t rely on them much longer,’ Aerol said.
He rubbed his chin with thumb and index finger.
‘Warlord Grin is a Tekromun who has been north, and has seen horrors, perhaps not too dissimilar from those you describe Cress. Could he shed light on this?’ Aerol said.
Cress turned and gave Aerol a bizarre look.
‘You told me his theories were crackpot ones and that he was crazed. We’d give credit to his ravings now?’ Cress said.
‘What choice do we have?’ Aerol said.
‘Inde has travelled further also. Should I bring her on the trip to see what she says?’ Cress said.
Aerol glared at Cress.
Cress shifted back and hesitated.
‘She is, after all, still a member of the War Council. Her contributions may help.’
Aerol let silence be his answer.
On opposite bridges were soldiers going back and forth in lines, idle, and Aerol looked away in distaste at the lack of discipline and orderliness. Their purple forms bobbed up and down, and they passed among themselves trinkets they’d forgotten on previous searches of the bodies, while casting the bodies away, and some of them passed things down the line all the way back to the dominion where eager Tekromun awaited for them. It still seemed strange to Aerol that the soldiers had wives – it had never been commonplace in the past.
‘I’ll bring them both, then,’ Cress said.
Aerol tensed the fingers of his right hand and then clenched them, but didn’t reply.
He gazed north at the mists that hid from view the great spaces that would lead to yet more bridges, destroyed structures of battlefields and even surface platforms, and he wondered how far up he’d continue before reaching the limits of what could one day form part of his new dominion. For now, he brushed away from the soldiers who had surrounded him and were perhaps waiting for new orders in Cress’ absence.