BEA'S BOOK NOOK "I can't imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once." C. S. Lewis “If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.” ― Oscar Wilde

Showing posts with label Mike Phillips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mike Phillips. Show all posts

Monday, May 20, 2013

Excerpt from The World Below by Mike Phillips



Welcome to today's stop on the blog tour for "The World Below"; I have an excerpt for you to enjoy. Mike is the author of not only "The World Below" but "Reign of the Nightmare Prince". His short stories have appeared in ParAbnormal Digest, Cemetery Moon, Sinister Tales, Beyond Centauri, the World of Myth, Mystic Signals and many others. Online, his work has appeared in Lorelei Signal, Kzine, Bewildering Stories, Midnight Times, and Fringe. He is best known for his Crow Witch and Patrick Donegal series.

Find Mike online:  

Websitemikephillipsfantasy.com

 

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Mike has a brief message for you all:

Good morning, everyone. Mike Phillips here. Thank you for joining us on the book tour. I hope you check out The World Below. I was asked to say a little something about the authors that have influenced my work. The poetry of WB Yates has been a big influence on my writing. I love the imagery. My style of writing is most influenced by James Lee Burke. Beyond that, I must give a nod to Dean Koontz. He taught me how to write suspense, how to draw out key moments to the action more dramatic. Thanks again for joining us. I’m off to work, but I’ll be checking in during the day. Please visit me at mikephillipsfantasy.com Take care, Mike Phillips

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EXCERPT

Magic sigils were hidden all over the city, but along the Riverwalk powers of earth and water converged. Magic here was strange and unpredictable, but always strong. A star was carved on the nearest of the old cottonwoods. It was ancient magic, made perhaps by the native tribes who once inhabited this place. 

Hume could not guess what its purpose was. For all he knew, it would take him away to some desperate corner of the underworld to be forever enslaved. He did nothing to protect himself. He had to let events run their course.

Finding Lady Elizabeth proved impossible. If this stranger had information, then he would surrender himself to free his sister. 

A breath of chill air interrupted his thoughts. He shivered. 
It was his humanity giving him warning. People who didn’t know any better would attach some old wives’ tale to the feeling, but he was not so blinded by the mundane. No one tread on his future grave. Evil approached.

In the world outside the reach of the cottonwood, the sun escaped below the horizon. Night had come.

Darkness coalesced; growing deeper in this haven below the trees, gathering until the river and the bay and everything beyond the sphere of darkness was lost. A black bird flew to a nearby piling. The crow was mangy and looked only moments from death by old age. It ruffled its ancient feathers and stared at Hume, penetrating his mind. 

Unafraid, he stared back, filling his thoughts with a variety of deaths the crow might suffer at his hand. The bird cawed angrily, its harsh voice a show of defiance. 

“Let’s get on with it,” he said. “Sunset was an hour ago.”
“Nightfall is now,” snapped the bird. 

“Point taken. My mistake.” 

The crow’s voice was as harsh as its call. “Patience Hume, your eagerness does you no credit. A lesser being than I might take it as a sign of weakness, but no advantage will I press. I know what it is to have a loved one in danger.” 

“Oh? So, is that why you are here? How nice.”
“Yes, I wish to help you, and I have other reasons.”
“What are they?”

“Patience, Hume. Patience” The crow laughed. “We’ll get to that later.”

“Lovely.”

Another crow flew to the piling. Soon the place within the dark was full of crows. They raced to the piling, circling Hume like a cyclone. He stood still, and though the impossibility of safety seemed assured, he wasn’t touch. 

The birds fused together, forming something in the shape of a man. The man was covered in black feathers. He had a crow’s head with a sharp beak and beady eyes. A mantle of greater feathers ringed his neck. 

“That’s a little much,” Hume said. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“I must admit I’ve always had the knack for the dramatic. As a show of trust I appear to you as my true self.”

“Does that make you a murder or a man?”

“Ha, ha, quite clever,” said the crow man. “I shall have to remember that one. Yes, quite clever indeed.” 


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Publisher: Damnation Books
Series: Chronicles of the Goblin King, #1
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Formats: paperback, ebook
Length: 206 pages, 799 KB
Release Date: March 1, 2013
Buying Links:



The book is on sale for half off if you buy direct from the publisher, use code: 50worldbelow The discount ends June 2nd.





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