WIP Blog Tour – Bound, Incarnate, Teasers and More

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Hello lovely readers 🙂

So, straight to it. My lovely friend and utmost writing hero J.S Collyer has proceeded to nominate me for the WIP blog tour. I am honoured she has done such a thing as I am a relative unknown in the literary World still. J.S herself has had her debut novel Zero published just this last year and she is already working on the sequel Haven which has a release date of October 2015.

Now I’m getting ahead of myself, let me back track. J.S’s debut novel Zero is a wonderful slice of literary sci fi goodness wrapped in sparkly lasers. Hugo is the reluctant Captain of the Zero after a space manoeuvre during a battle went wrong. He doesn’t expect much from this motley crew but he never expected the type of loyalty, trust and sense of family that he finds. How can he carry on with his orders now? For my full review of this fabulous novel please click here. Haven will be just as epic as the first book so please make sure to check her work out.

Now back to the blog hop. The rules (yes there are rules) basically are:

  1. Link back to the post of the person who nominated you.
  2. Write a little about and give the first sentence of the first three chapters of your current work-in-progress.
  3. Nominate some other writers to do the same.

And follow with interest as I break a good few of the rules 🙂

My First Novel – Incarnate

BlackWingedAngel


Incarnate is the first novel in my Angel of Death series. It is currently with the editor getting shined and be-sparkled ready for my searching for a publisher (I’m a little nervous about that but we’ll see how it goes.) You always have the hope that your work will be good enough for a publisher to be interested in but I also believe that I write for myself and I can be proud of what I do.

Alyssia Morgan has dreams of terror and darkness, falling and endless agony. She discovers all she knew was tainted by her mortal stance and everything around her is a lie. She is the last reincarnation of the Angel of Death and her lover… well… who knew he was magical royalty? She finds herself realm hopping, Angel avoiding and battling for her life while the Second Coming begins. Can she find the strength she needs to fight against fate? What will she do now that she knows she may lose this battle? And what stalks her in her dreams?

Incarnate Extracts

Chapter One:

Darkness surrounded her. Cold slivers of wintry hot fire were caressing along her back, making her gasp. Lovingly aggressive hands held her in place, only holding her arms, but she felt shackled by a million chains in a million places. She heard a laugh, close to her ear, from miles away.

Chapter Two:

The darkness surrounded her once more. She was dressed once again in the shining silver armour, her large ebony wings resplendent in the darkness. Aly turned and turned but couldn’t see where to go. She was lost and she would never be found.

Chapter Three:

She stood in the archway of the overtly extravagant Roman home. She was from Gaul and never quite cared for the luxuries these Romans indulged in, however, it made her enforced Roman husband happy; and when he was happy, she was not beaten.

Hopefully that will intrigue enough people to want to read more 🙂

My WIP – Bound

3908f175914bfe9145d3510ae6db8a56 My WIP is the second novel to the above, entitled Bound and continues the trials that Alyssia Morgan and Alethea, the Angel of Death, face.

No longer does Alyssia house the soul of the Angel of Death but the roles are quite reversed. Alethea is now in control and although sworn to stay out of the business of celestial beings she finds that she’s drawn once again into their pathetic power plays. Hell has quite literally frozen over. The once burning halls of Pandemonium are frosty with the cold and Lucifer is bound by impenetrable crystal. Alethea has to deal with Angels demanding her presence (again, sigh), demons, paranormal beings and her own nagging doubt that she shouldn’t be the one in control given her dark nature. Oh, and lets not forget the mortal housed in her head (a disconcerting feeling to be sure), what more did she need? She’s sworn that she will never be held again but doesn’t her duty govern how she acts? Will she ever gain the peace she so desperately longs for?

Bound Extracts

Chapter One:

She stood with her eyes closed, unwilling to open them. She could smell burning all around her and refused to look at the source. She knew what she would see should she open her eyes anyway; a burned battleground, bodies fallen where they had stood and blood seeping into the Earth. This wasn’t a mortal battle, this was of the divine and utterly… completely… fucking pointless.

Chapter Two:

She was on the battleground once again, the eyes of the fallen staring up at her accusingly. She had failed them but it wasn’t her, not really. She watched as a copy of herself split off and readied her weapons. The armour was strange yet somehow comforting and familiar. Her copy was ready and Thea gasped at the blonde foe the other her faced. He was the absolute double of her boyfriend Lucas but how could that be? The armour and weaponry were alien but somehow, disturbingly, the evil glint in his eye was exactly the same.

Chapter Three:

Alethea groaned as she opened her eyes, her body aching and her wings felt knotted. How long had she been laying here in that Him forsaken spell? Gingerly she moved one leg over the side of the ice laden alter, not quite liking the sacrificial implications. After she found this a success she moved the other and mentally berated herself for going slowly.  Rise and shine sleeping beauty, came her voice from the back of her mind. You are not funny mortal, she replied already casting her senses out to see if danger were near. They appeared to be in an ice cave of some sort but why would Lucifer store her here away from his slimy grasp? I would look closer were I you, came the voice again.

Next on the WIP Blog-Hop I Nominate…

… some of the most brilliant authors I have had the honour to be in contact with. Check out their work now, you won’t be disappointed 🙂

Philippe under carpark

Philippe Blenkiron is a British poet and the author of ‘The Pustoy’, a dystopian novella in verse. He holds a Master’s degree in Creative Writing from Keele University and enjoys writing poetry of varying styles, some of which can be found online at
Ink, Sweat and Tears: (http://www.inksweatandtears.co.uk/pages/?s=philippe+blenkiron)
Dagda Publishing: (http://dagdapublishing.co.uk/2014/08/22/faces-curtains/)
and The Screech Owl: (http://www.thescreechowl.com/page-2.html)
as well as in many other print publications.
Philippe’s current projects include adapting ‘The Pustoy’ for the stage/screen, fronting alt-metal band ‘Skybald’, and work of a more theological nature. He also has some ideas brewing for a second novella, but is keeping his cards close to his chest for the moment…

Order ‘The Pustoy’ at: http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Pustoy-Philippe-Blenkiron/dp/1499238665 

ericEric Robert Nolan graduated from Mary Washington College in 1994 with a Bachelor of Science in Psychology.  He spent several years as a news reporter and editorial writer for the Culpeper Star Exponent in Culpeper, Virginia. Eric’s debut novel is the postapocalyptic science fiction story, “The Dogs Don’t Bark In Brooklyn Any More.”  It was published by Dagda Publishing on November 19th, 2013, and is available at Amazon.com both in paperback and for Kindle. Eric’s poetry and short stories have been featured by Dagda Publishing, Every Day Poets, Every Day Fiction, Illumen, Under The Bed, Dead Beats Literary Blog, Microfiction Monday Magazine, Dead Snakes, The Bright Light Cafe, Aphelion, Tales of the Zombie War, The International War Veterans’ Poetry Archive, and elsewhere.

Order ‘The Dogs Don’t Bark in Brooklyn Any More’ at Amazon UK here.

Find Eric’s fabulous work along side some of my own in Threads and All Hail the New Flesh.

dennis

“Dennis Villelmi was born in Norfolk, VA in December of 1976.  An only child, Dennis very early on developed an imagination that ran the gamut.  But it wasn’t until the age of thirteen, with the discovery of Clive Barker’s ” The Great and Secret Show,” that Dennis realized that he wanted to be a writer, and moreover, like Barker and H.P. Lovecraft before him, a traveler through realms surreal, macabre, and, to a measure, blasphemous.  But it wasn’t until Halloween of 2014 that Dennis Villelmi finally etched his name onto the roster of explorers, both well known and obscure, of those tenebrous avenues that many would choose to ignore with the publication of his book, “Fretensis.”  Dennis Villelmi continues to live and work in Virginia.

Order Fretensis at Amazon UK here.

Thank you 🙂

Frozen Rewritten

Hi 🙂 Well I would like to say great minds think alike as over the weekend I had more concepts for Frozen, the other novel idea I had, much like the continuing creativity of my fellow fantasy writer Jex. This is a rewrite of my original post as I wanted to add what would be percieved as flawed aspects to the character, giving her an almost human nature. I wrote this in my 30 minutes lunch so please forgive me if it is rough around the edges 🙂

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The heat from the golden sun burnt its way into her flawless skin. The multi faceted smell of the summer flowers forced its way into her delicate nose. Snow grimaced. She couldn’t understand why her father had called her from her boarder home, or even why he had shown an interest in her at all. She was the unwanted daughter, allowed to do as she willed as she brought shame to her families name. She was used to being ignored and that was the way she liked it, spending her endless days in The Order.

She sighed as she allowed the Ice Silk to fall across the window once more, encompassing her in its cold calmness. The carriage she was in was built specifically for her family to travel to the High Court in the perilous seasons and today it just happened to be summer. Why had her father recalled her once more? She hasn’t even been near court in an age. She actually grimaced at the thought.

“Do not fret so Snowflake,” her father pleaded. He was Frostfall, King of the Winter Fae and she was sure she had never heard him plea before, what was he up to? “This is merely a trip to acquaint ourselves with the other Fae people’s. You know things have been tense between us and we do not want war to break out.”

Snow actually laughed inwardly at that. Let them bring war to her doorstep; with her Nightsilver bow and armour she was nigh on undefeatable. Her father tended not to involve her in court politics as she was the defective child as she had been labeled and he usually took one of his other children.

“Father,” she began tentatively. “You worry beyond measure. I know of the myth where the War of the Fae begins and I think you put too much merit into it. Why did I have to attend?” She knew she was whining but couldn’t help it. She had been happy hunting and defending the borders when she had been called to the court. She was surprised her father had even remembered her existence. Yes she was the Crown Princess but she had been sure her father had been intent on naming one of his several other children as heir. She was the only child by Queen Winter before she had been killed in a riot and that made her sole heir but she was allowed to not like it.

She remembered the exact moment she had received the missive. One of her brothers in The Order, Winterfrost, had found her just having finished defending from an attack by bandits. She enjoyed his description of the scene in front of him as he always used so many colourful phrases, “a tumultuous orgy of blood and gore that paints the forest red,” she always had to laugh. This time however she sensed his move was pensive and he began by reading out the missive,

Dear Snowflake, Crown Princess of the Winter Fae and beloved by the

people. You are neededat the court to undertake a journey of the

utmost importance. The King will be accompanying

you as you travel to the High Court to ensure the realms peace.

Regards, Frostfall, King of the Winter Fae

How dispassionate she had thought. Not a word of comfort or love from her father as was the norm with him. She had debated whether to actually return to the court, claiming ignorance of the missive but she was sure he would just ask the Oracles to scry and see if she had received it. This was why she now sat beside her father traveling through the stifling heat to the High Court more uncomfortable than she had ever been. She currently wore a pure gown of spider’s silk and the jewels as befitting the crown princess f the court. The dress felt alien to her, like it was too heavy and it over encumbered her. She longed for her Nightsilver armour and pure Nightsilver bow. Then she felt invincible, away from the politics and drama of the court. No one could touch her, ignore her or demean her. She had no responsibilities there and it felt wonderful. She brushed a lock of silver hair back behind her ear and winced. Her hair was a sign she was of royal blood; her family were signified by their silver hair, piercing ice blue eyes and blue tinged skin. When away she had sought different ways to hide it and blend in with the green-eyed, black-haired demeanor of her people but had failed miserably. Instead she had woven a tail about the bastard child of the High King unwanted and unneeded and for the most part it had worked.

“You come because you are needed.” That was all her father would say and she felt him sit back and shut her out once more. She knew she should be insulted but she had been shut out most of her life so she was indeed used to it. She sighed once again as she felt the golden sun trying to work its way through the Ice Silk. Her people thrived in the crystal snow and silver moonlight of the frozen realm but the High Court existed in a realm where all seasons were predominant and of course it was now summer. This seemed like a waste of time.

She was about to protest once more when a loud sound sounded and a heavy object hit the side of their carriage. It was followed by a second and a third. Her father tensed and the sound of a sword being drawn resounded through their small compartment. When had he stood up? He was in front of her and she was both touched by the sentiment and annoyed that he thought Snow would run out into the sunlight. She had spent her time defending the border for longer then he had had other children, surely he must know that she wouldn’t give up their strategical position; her iridescent wings twitched in annoyance at the thought.

She had pitch perfect hearing and she could hear the sounds of a frantic battle outside. Who would possibly attack them? They were in the official court carriage and they must know that her father was an accomplished warrior even though they may not know of her own existence. Sword clashed with sword and the was blood curdling war cries from both sides. Snow worried for the men at arms that were traveling with them. They were part of the realm defense but they were not her fathers elite, those that usually accompanied them on important issues. Where were they now and why had he not brought them with him?

Eventually the fighting outside subsided and Snow knew the men must be dead. She weeped silently for them but would grieve later as she was almost certain an attack would come. Suddenly the door to the carriage flew open and she knew her father had been blinded by the sun. She listened in horror as a sword penetrated his ceremonial armour and into his chest. How could that have happened?

Snow reached for the fallen sword and promptly thrust it into the chest of the attacker. She kicked him to the floor and then she did charge outside. How dare they injure her father??? She blocked an attack from the left and promptly kicked out in that direction as much as the dress would let her. She had the satisfying sound of a body falling to the floor as she blocked another attack from the front. She parried this for as long as she was able until she hears a voice claim,

“What’s up with her? Why isn’t she paralysed in the sun like most winter fae?”

“Look at her eyes!” another exclaimed, “they’re pure white, there’s no iris or pupil at all. She’s blind!”

“Grab her quickly then, she’ll pose no real threat.” And with this came a resounding crack to her skull, from what she knew not but she felt herself lifted over a shoulder and the feeling of oblivion starting to take her. She wished she could see her father to know he was alright but wishing did not make it so, as she was well aware…

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So what do you think? 🙂

Frozen

This is the working title I have given to my second concept for a novel. I want to store the first writings of it here and if you wouldn’t mind giving me feedback that would be wonderful 🙂 Please keep in mind this is a very, very early attempt. Thank you 🙂

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The journey to the High Court was always perilous for her people at this time of year. The golden sunshine shone down on their carriage with intense venom. Snow sighed and pulled the silk back over the window, being enveloped once more in its cool calmness. The silk was made especially for her family by the Oracles and she appreciated them beyond all others. Her people thrived in the crystal snow and silver moonshine and could not understand why her father was insisting they make the journey now. The High Court existed in a realm between all others and every season had a turn of being predominant; at this moment it was Summer with its treacherous sun. Snow sighed again and adjusted her spiders silk gown. In turn she heard her father sigh;

“Do not fret so Snowflake,” her father pleaded. He was Frostfall, King of the Winter Fae and she was sure she had never heard him plea before, what was he up to? “This is merely a trip to acquaint ourselves with the other Fae people’s. You know things have been tense between us and we do not want war to break out.”

“Father,” she began tentatively. “You worry beyond measure. I know of the myth where the War of the Fae begins and I think you put too much merit into it. Why did I have to attend?” She knew she was whining but couldn’t help it. She had been happy hunting and defending the borders when she had been called home. She was surprised her father had even remembered her existence. Yes she was the Crown Princess but she had been sure her father had been intent on naming one of his several other children as heir. She was the only child by Queen Winter before she had been killed in a riot and that made her sole heir but she was allowed to not like it.

“You come because you are needed.” That was all her father would say and he sat back and shut her out once more. She knew she should be insulted but she had been shut out most of her life so she was indeed used to it.

The dress felt alien to her, like it was too heavy and it over encumbered her. She longed for her Nightsilver armour and pure Nightsilver bow. Then she felt invincible, away from the politics and drama of the court. No one could touch her, ignore her or demean her. She had no responsibilities there and it felt wonderful. She brushed a lock of silver hair back behind her ear and winced. Her hair was a sign she was of royal blood; her family were signified by their silver hair, piercing ice blue eyes and blue tinged skin. When away she had sought different ways to hide it and blend in with the green-eyed, black-haired demeanor of her people but had failed miserably. Instead she had woven a tail about the bastard child of the High King unwanted and unneeded and for the most part it had worked.

She sighed and was just about to settle back into her contemplative whining when a heavy object hit the side of their carriage. It was quickly followed by another and another. The horses screamed in protest and bolted, breaking their fine Nightsilver chains and leaving their passengers behind. Snow stood, a little unsure of what to do in her father’s presence. He never condoned her fighting in any sort of way; he prefered she sit back and let the men fight in her stead. Her luminescent wings twitched in annoyance at that thought.

She could hear the footmen fighting outside and feared for them. They were part of the army but they were not her father’s elite, the men he usually took everywhere. Perhaps he had not expected an attack of this level on this particular journey. Whatever the reason he should have been more prepared and the warrior side of Snow rebelled.

She was taken aback however when her father stood, moved in front of her and drew his sword. Even she was not foolish enough to go outside, they would lose their strategic ground, surely he must know that. In any case he adopted a defensive position and waited. She hoped he did not need to fight as he hadn’t done for an age and she was unsure how good he was anymore.

They waited in silence while the fighting quietly ended outside; she wept silently for the footmen as she knew by now they must be dead. They had been good men and all with families who loved them. How would she ever be able to face them again?

Suddenly, the door to the carriage flung open and both were dazzled by the harsh sunlight. Her father faltered, as she somehow knew he would, and she had to listen as a sword sliced through his ceremonial armour and pierced him. She screamed. Still blinded by the sunlight she felt for the sword and started swinging it almost wildly, hoping she wasn’t injuring her father in the process. She could hear male laughter coming from all directions. How hilarious it must be to see a woman struggle with a sword. She wished again that she had her bow, then they would not be laughing as hard; she loved to shoot things blindfolded.

This carried on until someone grew tired and decided to hit her over the head and pick her up. She was trying her hardest to stay awake but the blackness of oblivion was quickly replacing the golden sun spots. She caught a brief glimpse of her father knelt as if in pain and in a pool of his own silver blood. She hoped he would make it; her heart broke at the thought of him dying. She tried to get to him but the overwhelming darkness consumed her…

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Thank you for taking time to read this 🙂 I would love just a general thought on how I could improve it. Thank you.

I Cast Magic Into the Darkness – A K Hinchey

I took inspiration again from my wonderful friend Jex (jcollyer.wordpress.com) and added a new page to outline the story of my novel. I Cast Magic Into the Darkness is my telling of fantasy and having to survive through incomparable odds mixed with a little confusion along the way. I really hope you will enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it 🙂

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Dream, Play, Write!

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