Wednesday, January 15, 2014

15% Off Coupon for Paperback Fantasy Savage Storm Plus Excerpt

If you don't want no stinking ebook reader or digital books, I offer the print-preferring public a 15% savings off the paperback price of Savage Storm: Rys Rising Book II.Visit my chosen print-on-demand supplier Createspace to get this novel and enter coupon code EHJ77M8M at checkout to apply the discount. 

About the novel

442 page 6 x 9 inch trade paperback ISBN 9780976223580

When Onja enthralls the savage Chatapaka people of the remote north and unleashes their brutal hordes upon vulnerable Nufalese settlements, the militia is overwhelmed. Cruce Chenomet and his comrades struggle to save the fleeing settlers. Cruce quickly loses hope but keeps his courage as he confronts the savage storm.

Read the excerpt from Savage Storm below to get a feel for the style of this fantasy novel. In this exciting scene Cruce Chenomet attempts to rescue two militia comrades kidnapped by the savages after a big battle. A tabre of the Kwellstan Sect has gone with him to help but only has limited magical powers. For Cruce it's likely a suicide mission undertaken in the heat of battle, but the militiamen of Nufal never leave a man behind if any hope remains. 

I chose this excerpt because it demonstrates the intensity of the action in this novel. I promise there's much more of this action throughout the epic series.

From Chapter 14. The Shaman's Dance

Even without Truleo’s help, Cruce could have located the captive militiamen. The howling, singing, and chanting punctuated by the most chilling screams drew him and the tabre rapidly to the fire lit ring. Many rows of savages insulated some horrible scene. On the outer fringe the savages milled and jockeyed for position, trying to see better the ritual murder of their prisoners.
Cruce and Truleo hovered in the darkness just outside the savage gathering. Nearby they could hear other men rushing to the scene, hoping to experience the gruesome sacrifice. Cruce knew that he would have to plunge into that merciless mass of bodies and do what he could. Another scream shredded his ears and amid the shouts and chants he heard screeching Nufalese curse words.
“Truleo, after I go in, make a distraction,” Cruce said.
The tabre was panting, but not from exertion. He was having a startling physiological reaction to the naked emotions rising from the savages and their victims. He had never imagined such horrors nor had he thought he could feel so small and weak before a group of humans. Their bloodlust exceeded those of any other animal and the power of it made him tremble.
“Truleo!” Cruce hissed urgently.
“I’m afraid,” the tabre said.
Cruce’s eyes bulged. “I’m going in there now,” he said, exasperated that the tabre was afraid when he was the one rushing alone into the raving pumping heart of savagedom.
More screams erupted, speaking to the worst of pains, and Truleo quailed.
“Do something now!” Cruce commanded and ran into the crowd.
The savages were transfixed by their dark ceremony and Cruce was just another pushing man in the hot horrible group. His disguise was sufficient and the ecstatic madness around him covered the cries of those men he removed from his path with his knife and sword. Holding the exposed blades close to his body, he pressed through to the inner circle of blood.
The scene he beheld froze him completely. His body burned to take action, but he did not know what to do. He had been willing to die trying to save his comrades, but now that he saw what the savages did to their live captives, quivering fear snatched at his courage like a protective mother.
In front of him, two savages held a prisoner tied to a pole. Their backs were to Cruce, but he recognized Vrostan’s blond hair. Hebensten squirmed and wailed, but he was helpless to flee or stop the atrocities inflicted upon Drumond. Cruce could not tell if Drumond still lived, but he surely must die soon. His guts were spilled onto the ground and the shaman was yanking the entrails apart and examining them for reasons Cruce refused to fathom.
White light suddenly brightened the surreal acts of cruelty performed by the shaman. After flaring brightly and revealing the bloody mess of Drumond’s defiled body, the light moved around the shaman, illuminating his warped frame within a sphere of glistening energy. The songs of the savages stopped and the shaman looked around his bubble of light. Alarm and fascination shone from his pale eyes, and, being a shaman, he quickly took advantage of the mysterious event. Raising his bloody knives, he shouted and exulted in the power that his ritual had released. The ring of savages backed off a little, terrified of their shaman and the strange light.
Because the supernatural display had to be Truleo’s distraction, Cruce smashed the paralysis of his terror. Now was his only chance to vent his hatred and avenge the horrors upon which he looked.
Cruce raised his weapons and approached the two savages holding the pole with Vrostan on it. Cruce shoved his knife into the upper back of one savage and chopped the neck of the other with his sword. They crumpled with hardly a sound, and Vrostan fell forward as the two men restraining him abruptly let go.
The white light left the shaman and moved into the crowd. Its sphere shape dissolved and weird tendrils of light began snaking around the savages. The crowd loosened as the savages backed away from the light that seemed now to be looking for something.
Cruce worked unnoticed as the simple tabre light tricks drew the full attention of the savages. He bent over Vrostan and started cutting him free. Leaning into his ear, he asked Vrostan if he could stand.
The sound of his own language was a mercy beyond all hope. He heaved his battered body onto all fours as the straps around his neck and wrists fell away. In the hectic shifting light, he did not immediately recognize Cruce but he understood that someone had come to help him. This seemed so impossible that he had to wonder if he had lapsed into a hallucination. Even so, he willed his body to function. Moving into a low crouch, Vrostan looked around.
The white light had lifted into the air, pulling all the amazed eyes of the savages with it. The shaman was singing to it in his own trance-like speech. Cruce left Vrostan and darted to Drumond. Beholding the ruined young man almost made him wretch. He saw Drumond’s hands twitch and bloody lips wheeze through pink froth. Life remained in the poor young man and Cruce acted quickly. He slammed his knife through Drumond’s chest all the way up to the black horn handle. Cracking through the tough sternum, the blade split Drumond’s heart and sent him to the Great Divinity.
Cruce pulled his knife free and whirled away from Drumond too sickened to ever look at him again. Loathsome depths of vengeful rage boiled Cruce’s spirit and filled him with a pressurized strength that could only be released in one way. Danger did not matter and escape could wait. The savages would fear Cruce Chenomet of Nufal.
Lifting his sword high, he stalked up to the blathering shaman...

Save 15% off the paperback price of Savage Storm: Rys Rising Book II.Visit my chosen print-on-demand supplier Createspace to get this novel and enter coupon code EHJ77M8M at checkout to apply the discount.

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