My latest book, Vargrom: Modrad's Exile, will release on February 23 by MuseItUp Publishing. This is a fantasy novelette focusing on the early days of Modrad the dwarf, which is a character in my young adult fantasy novella, The Fire King. The print version (cover above by the talented Jeffrey Kosh) is already available through Amazon and other sites. The audio book is also available through Amazon/Audible. I've been very hush about this because I wanted to have everything come together before fully promoting the book.
I will be revealing the e-book cover soon and, in celebration of its upcoming release, I will be giving away copies of all versions (print, e-book, and audio)...so stay tuned! In the meantime, I will be posting excerpts from the first chapter of the book. Below is the first installment.
“Modrad,” a muffled voice called out.
The dwarf thought it was a dream, but the pain felt real enough. Putting a hand to his head, Modrad rolled onto his back, letting out a groan. He felt the unforgiving wood beneath him, the noticeable discomfort still no match for the throbbing inside his skull. Modrad lifted his eyelids, but the intruding light of a nearby lantern forced them closed again.
“Modrad!” The visitor put fist to door this time.
His eyes shot open but not because of the banging. Something moved up through his throat, demanding to be released. Modrad quickly turned over and got to his knees. The dwarf vomited, the contents spattering the floor. Modrad never did make it to bed after arriving home from the tavern. That much had become certain.
A dwarf rarely needed incentive to drink, but the prior day’s events begged to be washed away, so Modrad had taken on that challenge with a vengeance. Somewhat relieved, he managed to get his feet under him, though he stood with a clear lack of confidence. Another bout of door pounding ensued.
“Enough already,” Modrad rumbled.
Brushing past a clothes line, he made his way to the front of the house. Modrad grabbed a lantern, which hung along one of the walls, and opened the door. A male, one old enough to be his father, stared back at him.