Monday, July 27, 2026

*Book Tour & Giveaway* The Lesitha Veil Tales-GUEST POST

 


Every choice echoes across worlds.

Freedom or Chaos; Stability or Control?


The Edge of Oblivion

The Lesitha Veil Tales Book 1

by CM Dawson

Genre: Epic SciFi Fantasy Adventure



"We were younger than we realised and equally naïve."

Dive into The Edge of Oblivion — a coming‑of‑age fantasy of secret map‑books, a dying storyteller’s last wish, and a crystal key that reveals tears in reality. Discover a richly imagined world, fast‑paced adventure, and a hero who must choose between duty and destiny — buy now and step over the Veil.

The veil is weakening and shreds between the worlds are becoming more frequent. Darkness is spreading. A new Rysyn is sought to replace the Torsoma before it’s too late and the veil fails, releasing chaos across the facet worlds.

Bex Gartan has no desire to follow her father into the Grinders Guild – or die of stone lung like he did. A rebellious 17-year-old, just weeks before her Liberation Day, a brutal encounter shatters her world. In a shadowy alley, she faces a tragedy and finds her destiny.

Bex's determination to find the truth pulls her into a conflict that spans multiple worlds. She becomes the target of assassins, the pawn of questionable advisors, and now the unlikely successor to the leader of the Facet worlds. Bex must learn to temper her impulsive nature and trust her instincts if she’s to save her friends, and the Facet worlds.

Will she be the saviour they seek or the herald of chaos?

 

Amazon * Direct from Author * B&N * Kobo * Bookbub * Goodreads

 



Chapter 16 Excerpt:


Then there was the Great Xan Janal, who claimed to have gone over the Edge and slayed a mighty beast to save a village. He boasted that there were many worlds, all separated by the Veil. There were people of different races who spoke weird languages. Some were tall and fair with long, flowing, silver hair. Others were short, squat, covered in fur and grunted a lot. Those stories always made me laugh. My eyes blurred as tears welled up, thinking of him. Whether they were real or figments of his imagination, Xan had given his life to sharing his stories of adventure. And I wasn’t about to let him down.

As I crawled on, I wondered which world I would find on the other side of the Veil. Would it be a world of thick jungles, filled with loud, screaming creatures jumping from one towering tree to the next? Or would it be a crystalline world overflowing with unimaginable colours? I was hoping for the water world, for Muut’s sake, except for the whole swimming thing. That scared me.

I looked back again and then beyond Muut. I scanned the horizon and watched as the heat rippled off the scorched ground. The only things that stood as high as a man here were the boulders that dotted the landscape. There was no lush green foliage, and the rivers were more often dry more than filled with water. I dreamed of seeing the leaves of a plant that was as big as me. I fantasised about dipping my fingers into a cool running stream and carrying the refreshing water to my lips; skipping stones across its surface and seeing splashes instead of puffs of dust.

I didn’t know if Xan’s stories were real or made-up fantasies to impress the ladies. But what I knew was that I didn’t want to die without at least attempting to find out. I owed him that much. So I turned back and faced the Edge. I checked the straps that held my knives tucked against my wrists. I placed my right hand out in front of me and then my right knee, then my left hand, left knee. I slowly crawled to the Edge.

The fingers on my left hand reached it first. I stopped and looked at my hand. The tips of my fingers curved over an edge. My breath caught in my throat. I moved my right hand up to match my left and swallowed deeply as the tips of both hands were now bent joyously over the Edge of our world. I slowly lowered myself down to the rough ground and felt the sharp rocks poking me in my chest and belly.

Carefully, I pulled my body up to the Edge and peered over. The air coalesced into a swirling mist of obscurity, roiling and bulging, causing my vision to slide and refocus as I tried to peer through it.

I pulled myself up to the Edge, raising onto my elbows and stretching my neck as far as I could. The grey mist swirled around my head forming dewdrops on my cheeks. I blew into it, watching as it whirled madly away from me, quickly folding back in on itself. I extended my arm and felt a cool dampness cover me like a second skin. The further I extended it, the less I could see of it.

I pulled myself up and swivelled around to sit on the Edge with my legs now dangling freely. My feet disappeared into the swirling mist that roiled below me. Then I leaned out as far as I could and swished my arms back and forth, trying to clear a view through the grey wall.

I either leaned too far or whipped my arms too wildly, because I tumbled off the ledge into the mist. My heart leapt as I felt myself sliding down the edge of the world. Suddenly, I jerked to a stop when the rope tied to my ankle caught me tight. My breath gushed from my lungs and my heart pounded my ribs.

I heard Muut calling to me, his cries distant, muffled.

I hung for a moment, dangling upside down against the edge of the world. I released my fear as I pushed myself up away from the rough rock face. Curling my knees beneath me, I crouched for a moment, waiting to see if I would fall. Nothing happened. The cool mist swirled around me; my head swooned with the mesmerising movement. 

I filled my lungs with the moist air and stood. Fully expecting to topple over, I stretched my arms wide to catch myself when I did. I stood there as rigid as a boulder with my arms spread, knees locked, breath held, eyes tightly closed.

Nothing.

I slowly opened my left eye, peeking, face scrunched tight, awaiting the imagined impact. Both eyes sprang open, and the air exploded out of my lungs. A breathtaking view assaulted my eyes.



Dark Side of the Veil

The Lesitha Veil Tales Book 2




When Bexlin Gartan is kidnapped into a world of metal and gears, the impulsive daughter of a storyteller must reclaim a stolen Lesitha Crystal and learn why her blood marks her as the next Rysyn—before a tyrant uses her power to shred the Veil and destroy everything.

Bex crossed the veil for adventure - now she may never return home, may never see her ma again or laugh with her friends. Stranded in a dark Facet, ruled by a tyrant set on seeking revenge and using her to fulfil his vengeance, she must decide whether she will become his pawn or fight to save all she loves.

Separated from her friends, she convinces the strange mechanically augmented half-lifes to help her find them and to return home, but not before she tries to stop the demented ruler, Urbo'Krk. Uncertain who to trust or what the rising energy building within her means, she must learn to control her impetuous ways and calm her mind. Only then can she face the truth of her destiny - saviour or destroyer.

Will she bring stability or usher in chaos?

 

**On Sale for Only .99cents on Amazon & Kobo!**

Amazon * Direct From Author * B&N * Kobo * Bookbub * Goodreads

 



Chapter 13 Excerpt:

“Come,” the ‘naut commanded.

I turned my attention back to the wall where a trickle of moisture ran down a groove, around a rivet, and disappeared behind the bench.

The white-hot tearing of my scalp ripped a scream from my chest as the ‘naut yanked me to my feet by my braid. He held me, dangling in the air for a moment before releasing me. My hands went to my head and returned covered in blood.

“Come or be dragged.”

The warmth of the blood running down my back held me for a moment. Then Tar was at my side, gripping my elbow to guide me.

“Walk,” he commanded.

My legs felt like they were full of sand, but I made them move as he guided me out of the cell and we followed the ‘naut through the maze of passages. “Where are you taking me now?” I whispered.

Tar ignored my question, but I felt a tightening on my elbow.

“Why are you helping someone like him?”

Again, no response, but this time there was a tug on my elbow. “Okay, at least tell me where you’re taking me?”

The massive head of the ‘naut glanced back at us. “No speak. Walk.”

We rode up out of the cells in an open lift. The fresh air felt good against my sweaty face. I studied the bleak world of Vrellum as we rose and wondered if my friends were somewhere lost in the labyrinthine maze of metal gantries and yellow haze.

The platform stopped and the ‘naut led us out into brighter, well-lit passages. We were back in the fortress of Urbo’Krk. We weren’t led to the main assembly chamber. This time the ‘naut led me past the big wooden doors with the familiar motifs etched on them. Instead, I was taken to a smaller chamber. As we entered, a light came on above a large metal chair that sat in the centre of the room. There were straps on the arms and the footrest. I stopped short, making Tar bump into me.

The ‘naut pointed. “Sit.”

I threw my head back, catching Tar off guard and smashing his face, just missing his already flattened nose. My elbow connected with his ribs, and I heard a satisfying grunt. Turning to run, I wasn’t quick enough. The one-eyed Omaj blocked my exit, and the ‘naut grabbed my shoulder, pinching me, and I screamed at the crushing of my bones. He threw me into the chair, slamming my head against the upper backrest. I left a bloody imprint from his earlier threat of dragging me. I tried to get up but felt pressure on my chest. It forced me back into the chair.

“Enough.” Urbo’Krk stepped out of the shadows with Cog at his side. He’d removed his cape and the silver breastplate. He now wore a black vest that allowed him to display his mechanical arms. Beneath the close-fitting fabric, I could see that his neck and chest were flesh. There was a seam where the augmented arms attached to his shoulders. The join was smooth and had a natural appearance as if the black mesh were just another type of skin.

He leaned over me. His presence felt heavy. The pressure built on my chest, and I tried to take a deeper breath, but could only sip the air. I turned away and refused to acknowledge him.

“Ah yes, you feel my strength.” He stood and pointed at Tar. His energy pushed against me, pressing me into the metal seat. Tar remained standing against the wall and motioned for Omaj to strap my wrists and ankles to the chair.

“I wish to examine you.” He spoke calmly as he turned and walked to a table that ran the length of one wall. “It isn’t every day a Rysyn passes through my world.”

My teeth felt like they might pop out as I spoke through my clenched jaw. “I’ve never heard of a Rysyn and don’t know why you think I’m one. I was only looking for the truth.”

I glared at Tar as I spoke my defiant words. His stoic face drew tight as he stared at me and shook his head. Cog had stepped further into the room and now sat at my side. His quizzically tilted head indicating his attention.

Urbo’Krk’s broad back hunched over the table now straightened as he slowly turned back to look at me. “I will learn what makes you a Rysyn,” his eyes flicked to Cog, “or I’ll make the cog suffer for your defiance.”

Cog tilted his head as he gazed from me to his master. I couldn’t be certain if he understood the threat that Urbo’Krk had made, but I also wouldn’t be the reason that he suffered any further abuse under this monster.

My jaw remained clenched as I slumped defeated into the chair. Tears welled in my eyes as Urbo’Krk came toward me carrying a mesh of wires.

“That’s better. Now sit still; this will hardly hurt.”




CM Dawson is an indie fantasy author and the founder of Crystal Path Publishing, writing multi-world adventure fiction from the rolling green hills of Wiltshire, England. Her debut series, The Lesitha Tales, follows Bex Gartan — a headstrong, impulsive 17-year-old who finds herself thrust into a power struggle that spans multiple worlds. Compared to Samantha Shannon, Brandon Sanderson, and Suzanne Collins, the series blends fast-paced action, vivid world-building, and a fierce coming-of-age heart. She crafts immersive multiverse fantasy filled with emotional stakes, dark magic, and lore rich worldbuilding. The first two books — The Edge of Oblivion and Dark Side of the Veil — are available now. A space opera trilogy, a short story collection, and a dystopian novel are all in development. When she is not writing, she can be found gardening, editing the local parish magazine, playing skittles, or being bossed around by her two English Bulldogs, Sage and Bubba.

 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bluesky * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

GUEST POST

Can you, for those who don't know you already, tell something about yourself and how you became an author? 

My first book, a space opera, came to me on the third day of a silent meditation retreat. I woke up and had this very insistent character tapping on my skull. I ried to meditate him away, but he was relentless and so I started listening to him as he told me his story. I was travelling a lot so I committed to writing every time I sat on a plane. Thousands of miles and 110,000 words later, I had the first rough draft of book 1 of The Eververse Chronicles. I also wrote book 2 and outlined book 3, but they are all still in draft because Bex stepped in and pushed Penon aside. So now, I need to finish Bex’s story so I can get back to Penon’s. 



What is something unique/quirky about you? 

I taught myself to be ambidextrous. Mostly out of necessity after I shattered my left shoulder tripping over one of our bulldogs, but also because I like to challenge myself. I’m currently working on throwing a skittles ball with my left hand in the hopes it will improve my game.



Tell us something really interesting that's happened to you! 

Nearly 30 years ago, I was kidnapped in Spain by a band of strolling musicians. They escorted me and a friend to a little, white-washed casa down an alley. Between my broken Spanglish and their thick Basque accent, there wasn’t much opportunity to decline their insistent invitation. Ducking through the door into the dusky room, the hard-packed dirt floor and the toothless nanna bent over a big pot on a fire made me wonder if we’d slipped into a Grimm’s fairy tale. Fortunately, they fed us, entertained us, we danced and drank moonshine, and we had a truly magical time.



Where were you born/grew up at? 

I was born on the foggy Northwest coast and grew up in the Midwest running amongst cornfields and catching crawdads in the streams. I then moved to the East coast before skipping across the pond to England. 


Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!






Friday, July 24, 2026

*Cover Reveal & Giveaway* The Half Kasst

 


An ancient bloodline.

A forgotten war.

A woman destined to awaken both. 


The Half Kasst

by Delilah Belvedere

Genre: Paranormal Vampire Romance, Urban Fantasy



After a charged encounter ignites something ancient in her blood, Sarai Davis becomes entangled in a world of hidden magic where pleasure and danger are inseparable.

A shocking prophecy shatters her reality: Sarai is a Half Kasst, descended from an erased bloodline and born to stand against a secret network of aristocratic vampires.

Now hunted, Sarai must reclaim a legacy meant to be wiped from history, and embrace her power before the forces hunting her finish what they began millennia ago. But power always demands payment.

 

**Releases Sep 8, 2026 – PreOrder Now!**

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads






Delilah Belvedere is a Kenyan-born, Washington, D.C.–based author and keynote speaker whose stories weave together mythology, sensuality, and power. Her writing blends African-inspired mythology with nontraditional vampires, witches, immersive worldbuilding, and unapologetically sensual storytelling, exploring themes of identity, legacy, and self-discovery through bold, unforgettable characters. Drawn to the spaces where ancestral magic, forbidden desire, and hidden histories collide, Delilah creates worlds where passion is transformative, power is inherited, and destiny is written in blood. Through every story, she champions authenticity, body positivity, curiosity, and the courage to embrace one’s truest self. When she’s not writing, Delilah is exploring new cuisines, hosting backyard BBQs, or binge-watching her next favorite series.

 

Website * X * Instagram * TikTok * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

 


Follow the reveal HERE for special content and a giveaway!


Enter The Half Kasst - Cover Reveal Giveaway Here


*Release Blitz* Wrath of the White Wolf


Title: Wrath of the White Wolf 

Series: The Damned Return

Volume: Two

Author: Karina Espinosa

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Cover Designer: Covers by Christian

Publication Date: July 24th, 2026

Hosted by Lady Amber’s Reviews & PR


Blurb:
I escaped Queens with my freedom—but not my enemies.

They accused me of kidnappings and poisonings I didn’t commit. Turning an entire city against me. So I did the only thing I could—I ran. Back to Colombia. Back to the only place that’s ever felt like home.

But peace doesn’t last long. A new alpha from Medellín steps onto my territory, testing what’s left of my control. And before I can finish dealing with him—Queens reminds me exactly why I ran in the first place. Because they don’t let their enemies go. They finish them.

What comes for me isn’t a warning. It’s a message. And it costs more than I’m willing to lose.

So I stop running. I go back to New York with one goal: revenge.

But Queens isn’t just waiting for me. The God of Death is. The man I thought I could trust when everything fell apart. The one person who should have stood at my side—and didn’t. Now Elias is the only thing standing between me and the war I came to start… and I don’t know if I want to destroy him or make him understand exactly what his betrayal cost me.

And somehow, there’s someone willing to follow me straight into the chaos. No questions. No hesitation. Angel walks into the destruction with me like it’s the easiest choice he’s ever made.

Queens thought the bastard of the alpha had run. They’re about to learn the truth. I’m not running. I’m coming back. And this time? I’m bringing wrath.



Karina Espinosa is the Urban Fantasy Author of the Mackenzie Grey novels and The Last Valkyrie series. An avid reader throughout her life, the world of Urban Fantasy easily became an obsession that turned into a passion for writing strong leading characters with authentic story arcs. When she isn't writing badass heroines, you can find this self-proclaimed nomad in her South Florida home binge watching the latest series on Netflix or traveling far and wide for the latest inspiration for her books. Follow her on social media!



*Book Tour & Giveaway* The Purebeck Mysteries

 


The Dorset coast holds its secrets tight—

and the dead won’t stay quiet.


Vex Not Her Ghost

The Purebeck Mysteries Book 1

by Gill Calvin Thomas

Genre: Paranormal Mystery


A quirky detective tackles a haunting family mystery.

 

Caitlin was four years old when her mother died in mysterious circumstances. Thirty years later she comes into possession of her family home in Dorset. As she slowly recovers memories of her past, she becomes convinced that her mother’s ghost is warning her of impending disaster.

Aided by Charlie Bond, a private investigator, an enthralling story of deceit and deception unfolds as Caitlin and her friends expose the ultimate truth.

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads





Sister Olive Wouldn't Hurt a Fly 

The Purebeck Mysteries Book 2


Fleeing to Dorset traps a mother and son between a cult and a killer waiting in the shadows…

 

If this whole saga was a fight between good and evil, then who had won? As far as Miriam could work out, neither good nor evil had triumphed yet. Now she was having to confront the grim consequences of Will’s behaviour, and she was mortally afraid. Maybe he and his darkness would win after all.

The tragic suicide of a young student starts a shocking chain of events for William Marshall, his wife Miriam and their son, Ollie. As Will descends into madness, a ghostly presence appears in their old house to protect Ollie. However, when two strangers threaten Miriam and an attempt is made to snatch Ollie, mother and son are forced to flee.

Amidst ever-present danger, they shake off pursuers to seek sanctuary in Rock House in Dorset, where they meet Caitlin and her friends. Twenty years have passed since Charlie Bond helped Caitlin solve the mystery of her mother’s death. Now, it is the turn of Charlie’s sidekick, Sam Haskell, to investigate a mysterious cult and unmask a killer.

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads






Gill Calvin Thomas is a retired academic who lives with her husband in Swanage , UK.  She finds inspiration in the landscape around her – the Isle of Purbeck has a spectacular coastline and beautiful beaches, and it is whilst walking here, that Gill develops characters and plots the twists and turns you will find in her books.

 Gill’s life experiences have informed her writing.  For example, her mother’s death when she was a small child, influenced her first book, Vex Not Her Ghost, where the heroine has to delve into the past to uncover the real circumstances of her mother’s death, the cover up and the ongoing corruption.  Her experiences as a social work academic governs the plot of her second book, Sister Olive Wouldn’t Hurt a Fly.  In this book the fatal combination of a researcher's mental collapse and a sociopathic opportunist give rise to a cliffhanging finale.

 Reviewers have said that Gill writes the sort of books in which you find yourself racing to the end, whilst not wanting to finish.  Her characters are compelling, well-drawn and sensitively portrayed.  In her books bad people get what they deserve, but it is never quite what it seems.

 She is currently writing her third book. 

 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads


Follow the tour  HERE for special content and a giveaway!


Enter The Purebeck Mysteries Tour Here


Tuesday, July 21, 2026

*Book Tour & Giveaway* Mystics in Hell

 


No heaven can save them from their own twisted visions—

welcome to a side of the underworld you have never dared to imagine.


Mystics in Hell

A Heroes in Hell Anthology

compiled by Janet Morris

Genre: Dark Fantasy Anthology


Mystic Madness!

Join the doomed on their vision quests in eleven stories by the damnedest writers in Perdition: Janet Morris; A.L. Butcher; Joe Bonadonna; Andrew P. Weston; Gustavo Bondoni; Seth Lindberg; Tom Barczak; Michael H. Hanson; Louis Antonelli; Christopher Crosby Morris.

 

Mystics in Hell is the latest volume in the notorious Heroes in Hell series of anthologies and novels created by Janet Morris.

 

A Frame of Mind by Janet Morris & Chris Morris

Kit Marlowe treks back from exile, where he has encountered three witches. Carrying a skull which he found on a blasted heath, he arrives at the Globe, where Satan and the angel of death accost him. At their displeasure, he’s banished once more, this time to return instantly via the powers of the Fates. Satan meets him at a cast party and decrees that Kit not only will spy for him, but play Banquo, beheaded in each subsequent performance of Macbeth.

 

The Come Right Inn by Andrew P. Weston

Where we meet up with one of Satan’s most secretive agents. A charming woman with a finger—and most other body parts—in every pie. She’s bewitching, beguiling, and bedeviled to be sure, but won’t think twice about skinning you alive if you cross her.

 

Abode of Woe by A.L. Butcher

When the self-proclaimed anti-messiah builds a temple on their doorstep and ruins business, Calchas and Cassandra look to some devious means to bring down the walls. Dueling mystics and misinformation bring mayhem to the underworld.

 

Fool’s Gold by S.E. Lindberg

A tale of the Egyptian god of mysticism, Thoth, who seeks conspirators to retrieve the Philosopher’s Stone; with it, Thoth could usurp Satan’s control of the realm of Duat. Taking up the charge is Howard Carter, infamous antiquarian and tomb raider, and the disgraced evolutionist Ernst Haeckel. They discover that King Midas’s alchemical ability to transmute flesh into gold relies on the stolen stone, and Midas is producing Hell’s new gastro-currency: buttcoin. They infiltrate the Mortuary Mint and sabotage the currency’s production. Instead of returning the stone to Thoth, the duo uses it to build up their own fortune. The auditors of Hell, namely the First and Second of the Sibitti, police the matter.

 

The True Believer by  Lou Antonelli

Few national leaders of the 20th century had as much of a negative and controversial impact on history as Hendrik Frensch Verwoerd, prime minister of South Africa from 1958 to 1966, when he was assassinated. Commonly referred to in South Africa as “Dr.” Verwoerd, he had a PhD in psychology, and went down in history as The Man Who Invented Apartheid. Now in Hell, Dr. Verwoerd refuses to acknowledge his infernal fate and gets a special visit to set him straight.

 

By Any Means Necessary by Gustavo Bondoni

Umberto Eco knows he’s in Hell; the suffering and multiple deaths that never kill him permanently are more than enough of a clue for a man of his learning.  But when he gets forcibly recruited by Nazi Commando Otto Skorzeny to prove the theories of one of history’s greatest charlatans, he thinks things can’t get any worse.  He’s wrong.  Hell can always get worse.

 

Excalibur by Tom Barczak

When dealing with the harsh reality of the Afterlife: Hell can be hard. But Rasputin has something even harder, and Lafayette Ronald Hubbard desperately needs it if he is going to pull off the greatest magic trick Hell has ever known.

 

On The Run by Michael H. Hanson

Tells of Sufi mystic Rumi, Zen Buddhist Dōgen, and Charlatan Spiritualist Mina Crandon using their new-found magics on the grandest of all quests, to find powerful talismans that will allow them to escape Hell itself.

 

The Sorcerous Apprentice by  Andrew P. Weston

Daemon Grim learns new tricks from an old dog. And just as well. There’s a fallen saint to bring to heel, and she’s not known for playing ball . . . crystal or otherwise.

 

The Colossus of Hell by Joe Bonadonna

Doctor Victor Frankenstein and computer scientist Alan Turing want to build a cyborg. Quasimodo wants to win the hand of the French fortune teller, Marie Anne Lenormand. Rasputin and Cagliostro want to open an exclusive, private club. And a mysterious damned soul, known only as the Orange Ogre, wants revenge against anyone in Hell who ever cheated or betrayed him, laughed at and humiliated him, or even ignored him—especially His Satanic Majesty himself.

 

Strange Arts by Janet Morris and Chris Morris

In a Tower cell, Marlowe’s head struggles to regain consciousness and rejoin his body. Here he finds his Elizabethan spymaster, Walsingham, waiting with J the Merciful and three mysterious Sisters. After painfully stitching together his body and soul, the five entreat him to join their most secret conspiracy.

  

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads




From The Abode of Woe by A.L. Butcher

 

Paradise’s dim light grew ever dimmer as the hell-lights began to glare with the blue glow of sulfur. It was an unforgiving light for the unforgiven. Word had got around, and crowds had begun to gather for the evening’s entertainment. Calchas had started a book on the outcome of the battle, and the diablos were rolling in.

“Two to One for the Pig Man!” yelled a grifter clad in the sharpest suit of the evening.

“Seven to Four for the Prince!” bellowed another voice, shrill in the crowd.

Kevin the fiend grinned. He was having the time of his unlife; he’d read the small-print.

“Are they ready?” Calchas asked, eying the large and sinister cloth-covered mounds on opposing sides of the temple.

“Yep. Ready for mayhem, master.” A smiling fiend is not something to stir the heart with confidence or joy and Calchas sobered. He wondered if he should feel guilty, but he had enough of that to last a thousand lifetimes and these New Dead had brought it on themselves. At least that is what he told himself and Cassandra.

“Ego fighting ego will bring no good for either. A temple built in haste to honor mere vanity and lies will surely fall to dust.” Cassandra stared at the mounds, hoping these fire-spiting death machines would not bring them all to the Undertaker’s door. Were they too close? She closed her eyes and let her mind wander.

“Will we be punished for this venture?” He’d asked, thinking too late they may have erred and voicing both their fears. He hoped nothing would backfire; plans in hell oft went awry. And he knew that sooner or later he’d pay the price for this deceit.

“This is Hades. Punishment is inherent. But I think not . . . at least not on this day. ‘Rue thy former life, and revel in thy afterlife, for thou art damned.’ Is that not the advice you once gave me? We are the damned. We must survive as we may. But those infernal and wicked weapons of the new-dead — Surely the walls of Ilium would have fallen on the first day.” She paused, “Would we have fought with such demon-weapons of war?”

Calchas gazed over to the two looming cloth-bound shapes. “Probably. Priam and Agamemnon would have found some means to destroy one another, no doubt. Man’s capacity for war outweighs his capacity for reason — and this place is full of the testimonials to that.”

“They will fall in dust as vain men are wont to do.” Cassandra told him.

“They won’t go through with it. It would be suicide. That building will fall down in the next hell-storm,” Calchas replied, doubtful.

They’d watched the crowd assemble from a reasonable distance. “Pack up. In case. And I will try to steer the mayhem from our door to be on the safe side, should the range of those war-weapons be enough to hit us. Make sure you are careful where you stand.

“Look there’s old Assisi. Out for the entertainment, along with everyone else by the looks. Let’s see — drinks are half-price.” Calchas would not let this opportunity pass.

Cassandra nodded, “Where did you get the fire-spitters?”

“Che Guevara owes me a favor. It might be useful to keep one—just in case. How hard can they be to use? Look, come there are our two brave heroes.” Calchas separated himself from Cassandra, still in the guise of the department man, and wandered over to the two Prophets.

“So, gentlemen, are we ready to settle this? Remember the winner gets control of that site, should it still be standing. The loser, or losers . . .will have more immediate issues to deal with.” Calchas motioned to the nearer of the covered shapes. “Who would like Big Bertha?”

The Reverend Henry Prince stared doubtfully at the shape. “That’s not a sword, or a firearm.”

“Give that make a Heck-Cookie!” Kevin chortled. He’d been milling and warming up the onlookers. With a flourish he tugged the cloth away — to reveal a howitzer, pointing towards the Temple of Woe. It was an evil-looking device, as were many man-made machines of death. “Humans, they do like to kill one another in all sorts of inventive ways! Welcome Big Bertha. She’s a friendly girl!”

“And the other?” Smyth-Pigott asked, his voice tremulous.

They walked across to a lower-slung shape. “Gentlemen, meet Roaring Meg, the deadly maiden of the English Roundheads,” Kevin chuckled.

“Not your era, I suppose, but they do the job. They are primed for combat. Meg has helpers: she fires but one ball at a time, yet she’s a fiery lass and one of the more knowledgeable operatives of hell has evened the odds.” Calchas held his palm out, containing dice. “Whoever rolls snake-eyes gets first choice, but Meg is a little slower, and older, and thus she fires first.”

“What happens if we refuse this ridiculous plan?” Henry Prince could not take his eyes from the cannon.

“Refuse? I wasn’t aware that was an option.” Calchas feigned surprise.

Kevin murmured something in Calchas’ ear, “My associate says it is an option but if a refusal is forthcoming then all rights are revoked to build now and for infernity, Sentence will be the six-hundred and sixty-five years of cleaning Perish sewers, and you must publicly affirm your rival as the true Chosen One, the true heir and the ultimate seer. And as both are equally guilty you will have to work together, and your women too, forever. If both refuse, then it must be done at exactly the same time. Whomever speaks first is deemed the greater coward.”




British-born A. L. Butcher is an avid reader and creator of worlds, a poet, and a dreamer, a lover of science, natural history, history, and monkeys. Her prose has been described as ‘dark and gritty’ and her poetry as ‘evocative’. She writes with a sure and sometimes erotic sensibility of things that might have been, never were, but could be.

Alex is the author of the Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles and the Tales of Erana lyrical fantasy series. She also has several short stories in the fantasy, fantasy romance genres with occasional forays into gothic style horror, including the Legacy of the Mask series. With a background in politics, classical studies, ancient history and myth, her affinities bring an eclectic and unique flavour in her work, mixing reality and dream in alchemical proportions that bring her characters and worlds to life.

She also curates speculative fiction themed book bundles on Pubshare - for the most part - the Here Be Series

Alex is also proud to be a writer for Perseid Press where her work features in Heroika: Dragon Eaters, Heroika Skirmishers – where she was editor and cover designer as well as writer – as well as Lovers in Hell and Mystics in Hell – part of the acclaimed Heroes in Hell series. http://www.theperseidpress.com/

 

Website * Website * Facebook * X * X * Instagram * Instagram

 Bluesky * Bookbub * Goodreads