Rogue Magician 2nd Edition and Fallen Magician

Tomorrow, the second edition of Rogue Magician should be up on Amazon and available on Smashwords soon. I decided to update the book for the release on Smashwords. The second edition has some changes to the prose and additional editing, but the story remains unchanged.

Also, the official release date for book 2, Fallen Magician, is October 27th. So look for it at the end of next month.

Fallen Magician picks up right where Rogue Magician leaves off and promises to be an exciting ride from beginning to end.

Book 2 Update

It's been a bit longer than I planned since my last post and wanted to provide an update on what I've been up to. Adding new content to the blog has taken a backseat to finishing Book 2.

I've been hard at work on the follow up to "Rogue Magician," which is tentatively being titled "Fallen Magician." For those of you that read the afterword in "Rogue Magician," you know that the second book was going to be called "Rise of the Necromancer." The title change was due to the mood that I think the new book elicits and the developments with several key characters.

The good news is that "Fallen Magician" is scheduled to be out in October, which is five months earlier than I stated in the afterword. The October timeframe is a bit aggressive considering how much still has to get done, but I am currently working on the second draft of Book 2 and plan to have that done within a month. 

The Magician Rebellion Series will be at least four books long. It might flow into a fifth book depending on how the content develops as I write the final volume. All of the books have been planned out, but they tend to take on a life of their own at times too.

I do have additional content planned for the blog too, but for now my focus is on completing "Fallen Magician."

Hunted: The Conclusion

Fear carried his feet forward as he dashed between a pair of Kenzai that clearly hadn’t expected the boy to come their way, but they lost little time before calling to their brethren and following in pursuit. Sane wondered how well his pursuers knew the streets that he tried to lose them on. The sounds of more boots on cobblestone came from behind him. It would not take long for the men with their longer legs to catch the boy. He had to hide.

His eyes flashed around him peering into shadows as he looked for a safe place to hide from the hunters. Magic! he thought, Magic! Magic! Magic! Come to me! Help me! The boy felt a second wind come to him, but if there was any magic about he could not tell.

A hunter appeared before Sane causing the boy to veer down another side street to avoid the Kenzai’s grasp. Another hunter came from the right and two more appeared on his left, but Sane continued to run darting out of each man’s reach in turn. He was getting tired again, but pushed on. There was no stopping now. He knew that if the hunters caught him, then they would kill him.

Still the hunters gave chase and followed him or tried to cut him off. Then he saw what he had been looking for. An unattended merchant’s cart was parked outside of a house. The boy risked a look behind and saw that he lost the hunters- at least for the moment- and slid underneath the cart. It was a perfect hiding spot for this time of night as long as he stayed curled up in the shadows. The cart appeared to be too exposed to make a good hiding spot and Sane thought it might only get a cursory glance from the hunters for that reason, but within the shadows he would be difficult to see.

The moment of truth arrived scarce seconds later as one of the Kenzai ran past. Then three more followed suit. The boy wondered how many hunters there were. It did not matter he was too weary to run any farther. It took all of his concentration just to control his exhausted breathing.

A fourth and fifth man ran past, but they enjoyed a more leisurely jog rather than an all out run. One of them stopped terrifyingly close to the cart.

“Why are you stopping?” asked the other.

“Need… to catch… my breath,” the one near the cart huffed.

A minute or more passed as the hunters rested. One was actually sitting on the cart now. Every nerve in the boy’s body called out for him to move his feet, but he could not overcome the fear and weariness that kept him rooted to that spot.

“Do you feel that? It is like a pooling of magic,” asked the one that stood at the end of the small side street.

The one sitting on the cart did not respond leaving the question hanging in there. Then a sudden jerk of the boy’s tunic pulled him out from underneath the cart and the grim face of a Kenzai hunter greeted him. In a movement so swift that the boy could barely even see the blur of the strike in the night the Kenzai hit Sane in the face with his ham sized fist driving the boy to the ground.

“That is for making me run,” the hunter told him.

“Calm down, Marcos,” said the other hunter, “He is just a boy.”

“You make me run, you get hit. That is the rule,” the bruiser reminded his partner.

Sane rubbed his cheek. “What are you going to do to me?” he asked looking at the one who hit him.

The bruiser jerked the boy up again and began dragging him along until the boy was able to regain his footing and walk between the men.

It was the one who showed Sane some small mercy that answered. “You would have been going to a domain to live out your days, but now that you ran… it will be up to the magistrate to decide. You will either continue to the domain as planned or be sent to the prison of Baj as a rogue magician.”

Hunted (Part 3 of 4)

Night came too quickly as the boy waited for the inevitable to come. It wasn’t fair. Why would they think he knew magic? He never cast a spell or sacrificed the neighbor’s yappy dog in a dark ritual. He didn’t know the first thing about magic.

His mother was sitting in her chair sobbing again as she watched her son and for the first time Sane understood why. She feared this day would come ever since Avelice disappeared. She would lose both of her children to the Kenzai.

His father stared helplessly at a bottle of ale. He had not yet given in to putting the bottle to his mouth, but he did not look far off.

Maybe Avelice will save me, Sane thought hopefully, or her husband, Xander.

He finished packing his meager possessions: some clothes and an old slingshot he got as a gift on his last birthday. It seemed wrong that that was all his life had boiled down to. A few possessions that fit snugly into a backpack and any trace of the boy would be gone from this place after tonight.

The family ate dinner listlessly. No one wanted to say their final goodbyes and they could think of nothing else to talk about. The moment they finished there was a knock at the door. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence. If there was any doubt that the Kenzai were watching them, then that doubt was now gone. The three of them stared at it intently, but did not move. A second knock followed. This one was a bit louder and sounded somehow more insistent than the one that came before. Sane’s father finally rose from his seat and opened the door.

“Sir Cordwainer,” the cloaked figure nodded, “It is time.” The man entered the room without being asked. He was followed by another Kenzai who was similarly attired in a non-descript brown cloak with the hood pulled over his head and the husky Constable Ragnit.

“It is good to see you again, Josef,” the constable said to the boy’s father, “although I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“As do I,” replied Josef. He spoke like a man resigned to his fate.

The first Kenzai stood before the boy and pulled down his cloak revealing the face of a man who was probably in his mid-thirties. To Sane, he said, “This is scary, I know, but I promise that nothing bad is going to happen to you.” He cautiously took Sane’s backpack from him and handed it to the other Kenzai without looking. His focus was always on the boy.

The other man rifled through the bag and pulled out the slingshot. “A weapon,” he said devoid of any warmth in his deep voice. That was probably why the first Kenzai had done all of the talking up to that point. He handed it to his partner.

“You can’t take this,” said the first Kenzai, “I’m sure you understand.”

“It was a gift from my parents,” Sane told him on the verge of tears, “It’s all I have to remember them by.”

“Rules are rules,” the baritone Kenzai told him stoically.

“Let him keep it!” his mother wailed to the surprise of everyone there. “Let him keep the slingshot!” She lunged at the Kenzai holding the slingshot and made a grab for it, but the Kenzai was a battle hardened warrior and flung her to the ground with his free hand causing her to cry out in pain.

Josef went for the man next, but he was pressed up against the wall by the apathetic Kenzai who pinned him by the throat with one arm and freed his sword with the other.

“Easy,” Constable Ragnit cautioned pulling his own sword, but it was unclear whether he was warning the Kenzai or Sane’s father.

Sane was unsure of what to do as he looked at his mother crying on the floor and his father turning red from a blocked windpipe. He felt the blood pumping through his small body. He wanted to fight these men and save his parents. Instead he turned and he ran down the hall toward his bedroom. He had a hand on the doorknob when he remembered the dreams about these men catching him in there. He ran into his parents’ bedroom on the opposite side of the hall instead and climbed out of their bedroom window with an ease only possessed by those that were both young and swift.

Hunted (Part 2 of 4)

The boy thought back to the dreams he had about the man who whisked his sister away and how happy she seemed. He guessed that Avelice ran away with the man, because she loved him, but somehow that did not feel like the answer his father was searching for. Sane shook his head. “Why did she run away?”

“Your mother and I hid the truth from you and now I think maybe we were wrong to do that.” Sane’s father swallowed deeply and his voice was nearly caught in his throat as he forced the words out, “Avelice was a magician and so was the young man she left with- Xander was his name. He said that he could feel her drawing on magic power subconsciously and offered to take her away before the Kenzai discovered her.

“You can imagine what I thought of his offer. I threw him out of this very shop, but he seemed to take it all in stride as if he knew that he would win out eventually.

“Avelice heard us arguing and wished to seek out the man, but I forbid it. I declared him a crook and a charlatan.” Sane remembered those fights between his parents and his sister. His father continued, “Eventually Avelice gave in and for a time it seemed like the whole thing was behind us.

“Then came the day the hunters arrived. They knocked on our door like any good, decent folk would, but they were far from decent. Avelice and I were the only ones home at the time. When I opened the door, a pair of them identified themselves as Kenzai hunters and forced their way in asking to see your sister. They had Constable Ragnit with them, so I knew they were telling the truth about who they were. I did not know what to do. I did not want them to take my little girl.” Sane’s father suppressed his feelings of sorrow and resentment for fear that he might not be able to continue. After a long moment, he did, “I yelled for her! ‘Avelice, the hunters have come for you!’ I shouted. ‘Run, girl!’ They ran past me and kicked in the door to her room. They knew exactly which room it was too. It did not occur to me before then that they had been watching her.”

“They took her?” the boy asked breathlessly.

“No, she was gone. I didn’t know it then, but the house had been surrounded by the hunters in case she tried to escape and they knew she was there. Near as I can tell that magician, Xander, had come for her and they vanished into thin air. We lied to you then, because we thought the truth would be too painful.”

The boy thought about what his father told him letting the information slowly sink in. After a long silence he finally asked, “Then why are you telling me this now? It has something to do with that man that just left, doesn’t it? He is one of them.”

Sane’s father nodded. “Since your sister is a magician, he said that there would be a chance that you would be one too. They have been watching you for signs of magic ever since Avelice vanished.”

Beef and bread fell from the dropped sack the boy had been carrying, but he did not care despite his rumbling hunger. “How could you let them spy on me and say nothing?!” the boy accused.

“Easy, son,” Sane’s father put his arms around the boy, “I did not know until just now. That man that came in here- the hunter wanted to buy you. He said it was to compensate me for the loss of my apprentice and to encourage me to turn you over without difficulty.” The boy’s father placed five gold coins in his still too small hands. It was enough for him to start a new life. “This is the money that the hunter gave me. He said he would pay half now and half tonight when they retrieved you, but I am leaving it up to you. You can take the money and run or you can go with them peacefully to one of the magician cities, but no matter what you decide this life will be closed off to you.”

The boy looked out the shop’s front door and saw the flutter of a brown cloak disappear into the shadows about a half block away on the opposite side of the street. The hunters already had him. He was in their net. It was just a matter of time until they reeled him in.

“They are watching even now,” the boy whispered. He placed the coins back on the counter.

Hunted (Part 1 of 4)

This story takes place about fifty years before the events in Rogue Magician. It is split into four parts, so be sure to check back in one week for part 2 of "Hunted."

Hunted (Part 1)



            The boy’s days were spent at his father’s feet in a very literal sense fore he was the son of a cordwainer and now that his eldest sister had run off with some hooligan leaving him the only child and heir to the family business it was the boy’s lot in life to learn all he could about crafting the fanciful shoes of the wealthy and their repair. It was a terribly dull profession, but the boy put his heart into learning it. After all, he did not want to disappoint his parents.

His father would become dispirited like when his sister left and take to the bottle again. He had only recently begun to sober up though it was more than a year since she left.

The boy’s mother was in some ways far worse. Ever since his sister left she would sit huddled in a chair with her knees up to her chin and whimper or cry openly. In the winter, she was covered with a blanket and in the summer, she was not. This was at the best of times. At the worst she would begin sobbing uncontrollably usually triggered by the boy walking in the room and he learned to avoid the poor woman and the unexplained guilt this caused him.

So he studied his father’s work for hours on end and learned his craft and at the ripe age of thirteen the boy decided that he knew all he could about making fine shoes and was ready to set out on his own, but he did not. He could not abandon his parents. Despite the difficulties at home, they needed him and loved him.

Every night he stared out of his window as he drifted off to sleep thinking of his sister and wondering where she might be. Was she happy with the lout who stole her away? Were they married now? He hoped so. His eyelids would grow heavy and sleep would take him to a land of dreams that could be blindingly bright. He would see his sister there sometimes. She would be sitting or cooking and the hoodlum would come up behind her and hug her lovingly. Then, he would kiss her neck or her lips. They would laugh often- much more often than the boy ever saw her laugh before.

At other times the dreams were darker than any moonless night. Men cloaked in shadows would come for him and bang at his window. The boy would hide under his blanket hoping that they would go away, but they never did. They would break through the latched window with a sword radiating a soft blue shine that illuminated their faces revealing contorted features and eyes that hungered after the boy. The house would then explode with noise as the house became overran with the cloaked men. They would pull his covers, his only form of protection, away leaving him completely vulnerable. Then one of the men would reach for him…

He was always startled awake at that point. His body would be covered in sweat and his breathing would be weighty and loud.

It was following one of these dreams that he caught his first glimpse of one of these men. He had gone out to fetch some lunch for his father and himself after they had spent most of the morning cobbling old, but well crafted shoes or cutting strips of leather for some new creations. The boy had worked up quite a hunger and was quick to return with their cut of beef and bread. As he rounded a corner, he saw a hooded man dressed in drab browns leaving his father’s shop. The hooded one started a little as he almost ran into the boy turning the corner. His cloak whipped up as he shifted his weight to avoid the boy revealing a sword belted at his waste.

The boy hurried into the shop and found his father glowering at the wall.

“What is wrong, father?”

“Nothing, Sane,” he paused as if he had something else say, but only repeated, “It’s nothing.” He absent-mindedly clunk some coins together under his palm. He would lift them up and let them fall again producing the light clink sound. Eventually, he asked, “Do you know why Avelice ran away?” His eyes were bloodshot.



And the Reviews Are Not In

Recently, I've been trying to find someplace that does indie fantasy reviews with no luck. Most sites that do specialize in fantasy reviews either flat out refuse to do indie reviews or may review indies, but have no activity on their site within the last year or so.

The main reasons that I have heard from the sites that don't cover indie books is, because they don't want to be deluged with mounds of poorly written garbage in the hopes of finding a gem, which is understandable if somewhat short sighted on their part as more authors (including some who have been established for years) choose to go indie every day, but that is another rant for another day.

So to all my fantasy brethren- authors and readers alike- where do you go to get/read reviews on fantasy novels by indie authors, or if you are like me and can't even find any reviewers for indies what factors do you take into consideration when plunking down your hard earned coin on an indie?


Also, if you are a fellow fantasy author feel free to plug your book in the comments to this post.