Warlord of the Forgotten Age – The Final Legends of Windemere Volume by Charles E. Yallowitz

December 26, 2017December 23, 2017 ~ John W. Howell ~ 20 Comments

I am so pleased to be part of the launch of Charles Yallowitz’s final volume of the Legends of Windemere series. Welcome, Charles.

A big thank you to John for letting me write a guest post to celebrate the release of Legends of Windemere: Warlord of the Forgotten Age. This is it. The final volume of my fantasy adventure series that I’ve worked on for . . . carry the 1 . . . divide by pie . . . 19 years!? Wow, I finally did that actual math on that and caught myself by surprise. Anyway, one of the more common subplots I used in this series is romance. Characters fall in love, have their hearts broken, make mistakes, plan futures, and lock lips. I enjoyed writing these because it felt like rewards and promises to my beleaguered heroes. They also ended up being some of the biggest headaches of my writing career. So, what are some things I learned?

Let’s get the cynicism out of the way. No matter what you do, somebody will hate the pairing, relationship, or existence of romance in the first place. There are many people out there who feel that romance has no place in genres like fantasy and science-fiction. Especially if it’s not the main plot. The thing is that if you want characters to be more human then a relationship is one of the best things to give them. Most people fall in love or get close to others at some point, so it’s one of the easiest points of relation.
You don’t need to write a sex scene to get your point across that characters are in love or lust. Body language like hungry stares and handholding can reveal more than the actual act of procreation. Personally, I see no reason to go beyond the initial kiss and then showing the ‘afterglow’ where the characters are talking, snoring, or raiding the fridge. There’s really no reason for this unless you’re writing erotica or intending to get the reader heated.
There’s only so long that you can play the ‘will they/won’t they’ and ‘who will he/she choose’ game. In Legends of Windemere, I have both situations. One pairing stayed iffy for about 7 volumes because they characters were split up for 2 of them. It was mostly one was open with their feelings and the other was too scared to be honest. The readers knew what was going on, so I had to be careful with how to play it out. Eventually, the audience would think I’m just being a jerk and lose interest in the relationship. When things start to feel stretched and it’s the fourth time they’ve done the ‘so close’ thing then you may have missed your opportunity. As for the love triangle . . .
I don’t know what to tell you here. What I personally learned is that I never want to do one of these again. At least not one that gets this complicated. The problem with a love triangle is that it forces readers to take sides, so you end up creating enemies for the characters involved. People also seem to expect it to be clear from the beginning who will get together. You remove the mystery and risk, so they don’t get invested in a relationship that will fail. I didn’t do that at all. This was a love triangle with an open relationship, three emotionally immature characters, fantasy cultures, and no true hate/malice between those involved. As much as I and others enjoyed this subplot, it was a mess to handle, which is why I brought it to a close earlier than I originally planned.
Love at first sight is a tough card to play, but it’s doable. People talk about how it’s unrealistic and lame. Yet, there’s the chance of two characters having that spark as soon as they met. It can happen with friends, so why not potential lovers? One way I found to make it more palatable is to not go right to the lovey dovey stuff. Such emotions are strong and hit without warning. So, I had one character be overly eager to be honest and another be plain terrified. At least to me, that feels a lot more realistic.
These subplots are perfect targets for villains. Yes, this is a cliché, but what bad guy would pass up the chance to hurt a hero by attacking and possibly destroying their relationship? Many main villains work for psychological victories even if they can’t get the physical one. You stopped my plan to take over this village? Well, the ring you bought from that vendor actually has a memory wipe spell that will go off as soon as your girlfriend puts it on? Villains are cruel and going after loved ones is like stabbing at the heart without actually hitting the heart.
Romantic subplots can change the mentality of a character because they now have something more to live for. With romance comes the possibility of marriage, kids, settling down, and being with someone into old age. Prior to this, a hero might not consider much beyond their final battle or even be okay with dying. Love changes this perspective because it’s something that will last beyond the finale. It’s like a promise to the character that they can have a normal life as long as they survive their adventures.

Again, thank you to John for letting me be a guest and also being there to help support me from early on. It’s been a really long road and it’s great to have people who travel the whole thing with you. Please check out Legends of Windemere: Warlord of the Forgotten Age and I hope you enjoy the adventure.

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

A New Adventure by Charles Yallowitz

July 7, 2017July 4, 2017 ~ John W. Howell ~ 9 Comments

Spend your summer with Ichabod Brooks in this 11 story collection! $2.99 on Amazon!

Enter the world of Windemere with 11 action adventure short stories featuring a man who is out to make an honest living.

Some heroes seek fame. Some seek fortune. Others simply want to save the world. Ichabod Brooks only wants to put food on the table for his family.

Known and respected as the man who can get any job done, Ichabod has seen his share of adventure. Most of which have been highly exaggerated by bards. Still, the man has his famous reputation for a reason. Whether it be climbing a temperamental mountain for eggs or escorting orphans to their new homes, Ichabod takes every job seriously and makes sure he is as prepared as he can be. Not that it helps since things always take a turn for the worse.

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Excerpt: Preparing for Galaces

“Is this any way to greet an old friend?” a dwarf in dark gray chainmail asks before plugging his ears with his dark red beard. Wanting the bard to stop, the mountaineer marches over and puts a hand over the young woman’s mouth. “Are you supposed to use her as bait? I did hear there’s a hobgoblin pack that moved in a few months ago. You know how those drooling scavengers love elf flesh.”

“Sorry about that, Dex. She latched on at my last stop and I haven’t been able to shake her off,” Ichabod replies, shaking his guide’s hand. He rubs his own black and white beard at the sight of how his friend shows no sign of graying. “I have to give this one credit for tenacity, but this is where we part ways. Galaces Mountain is not a place to go unless you have experience, an excellent guide, and common sense. So far, I don’t see you having any of those things and I’m not going to babysit.”

“I must go. That’s the only way I can write about your newest adventure,” the bard insists, unwittingly proving Ichabod right. She crosses her arms and meets the icy stare of the dwarf, who she considers leaving out of her tale. “Being the first to speak of your climb will help my reputation. I promise not to cause any trouble and pull my own weight. Elves are graceful and agile, which makes us perfect companions for whatever it is you’re doing. Besides, Galaces Mountain doesn’t look like that bad a climb. The stories must be nothing more than colorful exaggerations.”

Ichabod puts on a pair of white-palmed gloves and slips a blue band on his finger, a charge going through his body to enhance his lungs. “I suddenly relate very well to this mountain. Take a look at the empty space between us and Galaces. You’ll see why this place has earned a reputation.”

The bard puts her lute over her shoulder and walks to the yellow rope, which sparks with a mild magic. At first, she is unsure of what she is supposed to pay attention to among the shrubs and fallen rocks. It takes the elf a few minutes to recognize weather worn bones sticking out from under a boulder. The limbs are splayed since the climber plummeted with the rough stone pressed against his back and the landing embedded him in the ground. Knowing what to look for, the bard realizes that there are at least ten old corpses hidden by the mountain’s litter. The bard spots the fresh body of a yellow-skinned creature sitting behind a shrub, the armored creature crumpled from landing butt first after its fall. She is about to ask a question when a small pain runs up her arm and she collapses into a magical slumber.

“Guess that’s more humane than knocking her on the head,” Dex mentions while Ichabod carries the young woman to the dwarf’s cart. He shields his eyes as he stares at the churning clouds that have been trapped around the peak. “Looks like the eagles captured a storm beneath their nest this year. Means the winds are going to be brutal and the tunnels are infested with horned spiders and revelers. Not going to be an easy trip. Sure, you don’t want someone else to take this contract?”

“I’d love to hand this off to someone else, but Chef Zyrk always insists that I take the job. I have no injuries, diseases, or family events, so I’m here,” Ichabod replies, sheathing his sleep-inducing shortsword. As an afterthought, he grabs a horse blanket and tosses it over the bard to hide her from view. “The Starwind Eagles lay eggs every ten years and now is the time to get to them. Wait any longer and the mountain will be crawling with hunters. A youngster wouldn’t know that or have you as a guide.”

The dwarf grins as he lifts the rope and gestures for his friend to lead the way. “They also don’t have your wife making deals that you can’t say no to. She mentioned that you’re getting three times the usual pay because this baby is going to be prepared for Duke Solomon’s wedding. Personally, I’m looking forward to your wife’s cooking after this. Surprised your gut isn’t huge considering that woman can make a pot roast even the gods would praise. Did you happen to bring some of her dishes for the road?”

“I can cook too, you know.”

“You can bake, Ichabod. Not the same as cooking in my book.”

“So you don’t want the cookies I brought.”

“Oatmeal and cranberry?”

“With a touch of cinnamon.”

*****

About the Author:

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Book Launch – Ritual of the Lost Lamb by Charles Yallowitz #Fantasy

May 12, 2017May 11, 2017 ~ John W. Howell ~ 15 Comments

Dark times are waiting for the champions in
RITUAL OF THE LOST LAMB!

Death is a blessing that the Baron is not ready to bestow upon his new toy.

In the chaos surrounding the Spirit Well, Luke Callindor has disappeared and the only clue the psychic scream of agony that Dariana cannot ignore. Knowing that a journey to Shayd will result in their ultimate battle, the champions have devised another way to rescue their friend. With permission from the gods, Nyx has begun the Ritual of the Lost Lamb. It is a long and exhausting spell, which is made even more difficult by a new threat that is out to make all of the Baron’s enemies suffer.

It is a race against time where every minute lost brings Luke Callindor one step closer to a fate worse than oblivion.

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Excerpt: Audience Granted

Having said her piece, Nyx gnaws on a hunk of jerky and sips at a waterskin while the others discuss her idea. She refuses to admit that she is having second thoughts about breaking a god seal even with permission. The last time she accomplished such a feat was by accident and resulted in her magic being sealed for days. Nyx shudders at the memory of feeling so many lives ending at her hands and takes a sloppy drink of leathery water to steady her nerves. The result is a full body convulsion of disgust and a hacking cough as the liquid goes down her windpipe. Flicking a green beetle off her shoulder, the channeler impatiently paces in a circle and wonders why the others are taking so long.

The hairs on the back of Nyx’s neck rise and her arms become covered in goosebumps as a pulse of energy ripples through the clearing. She is about to ask her friends if they feel anything, but stops when she sees that they are frozen in time. The half-elf’s heart pounds in her chest as she fears that the Baron is about to attack. More terror seeps into her mind when she expects to turn around and find Luke’s tortured body dangling before her eyes. Not wanting to be caught by surprise, a flaming disc appears in her palm and hums as she searches for the source of the powerful spell. The snap of a twig to her left causes Nyx to hurl the fiery circle, which splits into a swarm of deadly copies that would destroy any normal enemy. Against the ebony platemail of Gabriel, the discs puff into balls of harmless smoke that remain hovering in place.

“Your friends have agreed to your idea,” the Destiny God states, ignoring the mortal’s amusing attack. He removes his black cape, which becomes a vague chair for the nervously bowing channeler. “Now, this is unique. In fact, it is quite unheard of, which is why I am granting you an audience. The Law of Influence says I cannot get involved, but nobody has ever asked for permission to do something like this. Needless to say, all of us are very curious to see how all of this plays out.”

“I want to unseal the Ritual of the Lost Lamb,” Nyx politely requests while she takes a seat on the cape. An enchanting warmth rises from the cloth and she nearly falls asleep from the blissful energy that infects her body. “This is the only way to save Luke without marching into the Baron’s territory. We both know that is what he wants. With the forbidden ritual, I can gather my little brother’s residual energy and bring him home. None of us will be at risk since it’s a combination of a summoning and teleportation spell.”

“Strange that you know about a spell designed by channelers. Especially since it has not been used since the ancient Race War,” Gabriel says with a nod of his head. Urging voices in the back of his head causes the god to hum with his mouth closed, the spell jolting the sources of his rising irritation. “The Ritual of the Lost Lamb was taken from mortals before my time, but I understand the reason it made the gods worry. Such a thing could be the first step into summoning a deity against his or her will. Possibly even stealing immortality. Though I believe times have changed and we should reconsider the sealing.”

“Time is also running out,” the channeler replies, shying away when the powerful deity stares at her. A flickering realization that the Baron’s power might be on the same level of Gabriel gives her the courage to meet the man’s piercing eyes. “I apologize for sounding like I’m rushing you. Yet, it has been said that the gods and goddesses have no concept of time since you exist forever. That means I have to push even though I want to speak with respect.”

“In other words, you want a decision now.”

“That would be best, sir.”

“Sadly, I cannot agree to your terms.”

“I haven’t made any terms.”

“Exactly.”

Need to catch Legends of Windemere from the beginning? Then click on the covers below!

You can start for FREE . . .

Or grab the $4.99 ‘3 in 1’ bundles!

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen

Also Available in Single eBooks:

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen

Cover art by Jason Pedersen

Interested in a new adventure? Then grab your Kindle & dive back into the world of Windemere! Don’t forget an apple for Fizzle.

About the Author:

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Guesting in Siân Glírdan’s Green Room #RRBC

March 19, 2017March 18, 2017 ~ John W. Howell ~ 12 Comments

Today I have the pleasure of being a guest of Siân Glírdan in her green room before taking off on a fabulous adventure. I have been given the opportunity of taking a trip to an exotic destination which is explained in the post. I also am allowed to take anything I wish to enhance my experience. So come over to Siân Glírdan’s place and see where I’m going and what I’m taking with me. Here is the link http://wp.me/p7wYAB-f4,

About Siân Glírdan

Siân Glírdan is the fusion persona of the elven roleplay character, Janowyn, High Bard of the River Kingdom and her ‘real world’ creator, author, Jan Hawke. Glírdan is the elven word for ‘songsmith’, and Sîan is a Welsh variant of Jan (in case you were wondering!).
When it became obvious to Jan that Jano had a far better handle than she could ever have on writing in the fantasy genres, Sîan was born, fully formed and raring to go. A Freebooter’s Fantasy Almanac, which is basically the manual on how Jano was brought into being and developed, is Sîan and Jano’s first official collaboration. They’re currently working hard on an epic future fantasy series, loosely based on the ancient Celtic world. The first volume should reach the shelves at the end of 2016.

Freebooters Fantasy — Click cover to visit Amazon

Jan Hawke (Siân Glírdan) is also the author of Milele Safari

Legends of Windemere: The Spirit Well is Now Available #NewBook

December 9, 2016December 9, 2016 ~ John W. Howell ~ 12 Comments

Return to Windemere in THE SPIRIT WELL!

Born from the light and darkness, Dariana can no longer avoid her fate.

The final corrupted temple stands between the champions and Baron Kernaghan having their great battle. Only one problem: the Compass Key refuses to work with Dariana, who long ago wiped all memories of the Spirit Well from her mind. Now, they are forced to follow a trail of clues that Dariana’s former self left behind centuries ago. It is a path that will lead the champions into a part of their friend’s past that could tear them all apart.

Will the bonds of friendship be stronger than the call of blood?

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Excerpt: I’m Sorry . . . Again

“I’m sorry, but I told you that my powers make the Compass Key argumentative when it comes to the Spirit Well,” Dariana sheepishly explains while rubbing her clear ring. She smiles when Fizzle lands on her head, the drite’s cool tail running down her spine. “This is very scary for me. None of the champions have made it to this temple, much less the final battle with my father. It’s hard to take in after this destiny being my entire life for so long. I used to always dream of how I would handle my temple, but things are different now that it’s no longer a distant dream. What if I make a mistake and get someone killed?”

“We trust you, my friend, and know that you will not fail,” Timoran whispers as he slides the Compass Key across the table. He is confused when the relic sparks at her touch and gets pushed back into his hand. “That is fairly disheartening. If you cannot use the Compass Key then there is no way to find this Spirit Well. Perhaps it does not like your physical touch and will respond to your telepathy. I wonder why the gods would create this obstacle.”

“It’s possible that we did this,” Delvin suggests while using one of his enchanted rings to create a delicious cup of coffee. He gestures for the barbarian to throw the relic over to him, but the red-haired barbarian refuses. “You’re right, Timoran. Probably not a good idea to toss something like that around. Anyway, we had the Compass Key warded against agents of the Baron. They aren’t able to see it, which means they can’t find or use it. The decision made sense at the time, but things are different now. Maybe our spell has a small effect on Dariana. Not saying you’re working with the Baron, but there could be enough of an aural touch to cause this problem. Do you think we should cancel the spells, Nyx?”

The channeler heats up a cup of tea, which she sips at while considering the possibility of her magic being the issue. “They should stay because I don’t think they’re the problem. Dariana said this has happened before, which means the gods made a mistake. Sorry for how that came out. Gabriel, who better not get angry at this conversation, created the Compass Key first and then turned Dariana into a champion. He couldn’t fix the problem thanks to the Law of Influence, so it’s remained all this time. Though he had to have created something to help us move on.”

“Maybe we have to find Isaiah and he’ll lead the way,” Sari says from the couch. Flipping to her feet, she joins her friends and immediately takes a strawberry off Luke’s plate. “He hasn’t been much help since the first temple, so one has to wonder what his purpose is. I doubt we need his protection any more, which means he has to have another role to play. What do you think, Dari?”

The telepath rubs her temples while scanning the city for a sign of the fireskin, part of her praying he is not nearby. Dariana finds evidence that Isaiah has been spying on them until recently, but the caster is long gone. She considers tracking the faint trail and goes as far as the outer wall, which is where the psychic tracks make an odd leap into the sky. The strain of following Isaiah any further makes Dariana pull back and return to find that everyone is staring at her again. Realizing that she can no longer delay the inevitable, she gets out of her chair and kneels to her friends. Fizzle is still clinging to her head, which makes the apologetic bow both amusing and awkward.

“I know I say this a lot, but I really am sorry, my friends,” Dariana states while keeping her forehead pressed to the stone floor. She looks up at the sound of rustling feet and is surprised to see that everyone is approaching her. “Long ago, I managed to avoid being put back to sleep long enough to track down the Spirit Well. My curiosity got the best of me and I wanted to know where my path would meet its end. I was still forced to wipe my memory of the location, but I do know that I left a map behind. There are a few clues that I buried in my subconscious where even I could not dislodge them after erasing the original discovery. More may come to me as we get closer, but all I know now is that we should go to Rodillen. I was hoping the Compass Key would work and we could avoid this extra journey.”

“Like our luck would be that good,” Nyx mutters while she helps Dariana stand.

Need to catch Legends of Windemere from the beginning? Then click on the covers below!

You can start for FREE . . .

Or grab the $4.99 ‘3 in 1’ bundles!

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen 3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics — Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics

.

Also Available in Single eBooks:

Interested in a new adventure? Then grab your Kindle & dive back into the world of Windemere! Don’t forget an apple for Fizzle.

About the Author:

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Introducing Charms of the Feykin by Charles E. Yallowitz

September 17, 2016September 14, 2016 ~ John W. Howell ~ 4 Comments

Return to Windemere in Charms of the Feykin!

To make a champion fall, one must wound their very soul.

Nyx is leading the charge to rescue Delvin and Sari, who have gone missing in the southern jungles of Windemere. Battling through the local predators, the champions are surprised when they reunite in the Feykin city of Rhundar. Instead of captives, the missing heroes have become the city’s rulers and are on the verge of starting a war with those that want to exterminate their new followers. Even with such a noble cause, Delvin and Sari have changed into brutal warlords that may kill each other and their friends long before they step onto the battlefield.

Have Delvin and Sari really changed for the worst or is there a greater threat pulling the champions’ strings?

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Add it to your Goodreads ‘To Read’ List!

Excerpt: Broken Bonds

Sari draws two daggers and sprints at Luke, slashing at his sabers in an attempt to cut his hands as he unsheathes his weapons. Instead, the forest tracker unclips the scabbards from his belt and spreads his arms to avoid the gypsy’s attack. The swords still sheathed, he does his best to deflect his former friend’s strikes while harmlessly smacking her in the sides. When a dagger slices his arm, Luke kicks out to knock Sari back. A hint of a grin on her face causes him to slow his attack, his foot aching as it bounces off her immovable body. Knowing he has to trick her, the half-elf runs backwards to get the gypsy to charge. Before she falls behind, the warrior lets her gradually catch up while remaining out of slashing range. Once Luke reaches the riverbank, he lunges forward and aims a swing at the sprinting woman’s knee. Forced to decide between taking a blow that would surely break bone or risk a similar injury by turning her power on while running, Sari tries to twist out of the way. She lands on her back at the forest tracker’s feet and curses when he pins her arms by jamming his sabers against her wrists.

Before Luke can tell the gypsy to stop struggling, an arm of water bursts from the river and bats him away. Phelan leaps out of the rapids and sprints at the prone warrior, his daggers lengthened by keenly edged liquid. The weapons sink into the muddy earth when their target rolls away, the ringing of drawn steel revealing that the champion is no longer restraining himself. With a flurry of stabs and slashes, the half-elf drives his new opponent back and whittles away at the watery daggers. Trying not to kill the Feykin, Luke delivers an echoing hilt punch to Phelan’s head every time the other warrior attempts a counterattack. Faced with the full speed and skill of the agile forest tracker, the outclassed hunter has various watery weapons fly out of the river. None of them hit the champion, who remains close enough to continue his barrage of muscle-rattling strikes.

Ducking to the side, Luke slashes at the other man’s exposed flank in what he hopes will be a crippling, but non-lethal, blow. The saber clangs off a patch of icy armor and a freezing tremor makes the half-elf’s arm go numb. A searing pain erupts from his lower back and he whirls around, the motion preventing Sari’s dagger from doing more than a long cut across his side. His first saber swings an inch over her head, but his second weapon leaves a gash up the middle of her chin. Enraged by the pain, the gypsy moves out of Luke’s reach and summons a massive hammer of water. She freezes the forest tracker’s feet to the ground before he can move, which allows the large weapon to connect. It repeatedly comes down on the warrior, breaking several ribs and one of his arms. Sheathing his sabers and remaining on the ground, the half-elf draws the stiletto and hurls it into Sari’s thigh. A look of shock is on her face and she stares at Luke’s battered form as if seeing such injuries for the first time.

Need to catch Legends of Windemere from the beginning? Then click on the covers below!

You can start for FREE . . .

Or grab the $4.99 ‘3 in 1’ bundles!

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Also Available in Single eBooks:

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Interested in a new adventure? Then grab your Kindle & dive back into the world of Windemere! Don’t forget an apple for Fizzle.

About the Author:

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

The Fantasy Freebooting Tour with Jan Hawke #RRBC

June 30, 2016June 26, 2016 ~ John W. Howell ~ 61 Comments

Please join me in welcoming Jan Hawke to Fiction Favorites. She is on a 4Wills Publishing Tour and I’m so happy she decided to make my place one of her stops.

Fan fiction as backstory

Because we weren’t allowed to play even minor characters from the original books (and films) we were given a pretty free rein with creating our own ‘original’ characters. Who you chose, and where and how you decided to play them was up to you. Some people only wanted to play in classic canon style threads and so their hobbits, elves or dwarves etc, tended to retain the original profiling as written by Tolkien – salt of the earth hobbit types like Sam Gamgee, or enigmatic, serious Rangers like Aragorn. You knew where you were with that kind of character.

For a Bard like Jano, you were of course expected to sing and tell stories, and so that was an opportunity for you to build up your own backstory as well. When I was playing to strict canon rules, I had the chance to wow people with my versions of the older tales from the legendarium, and for that I could, of course, name drop like crazy. It was in fan-fiction that you could really start to cut loose however.

Before I began to get into roleplay, my first piece of fan-fiction wove baby Janowyn firmly into Minas Tirith, right after the Battle of the Pellennor Fields. I had her mother give birth in the Houses of Healing after being saved by a cavalryman of Rohan as she lay injured in the ruins of a tower destroyed by a Ringwraith (this really ‘happened’ in the Return of the King, so I simply had Jano’s mum standing on the roof terrace of the tower when it fell). This man, who became Jano’s stepfather, was also harmed during the battle (being me, I gave him PTSD rather than a flesh wound!) and so he was also with the Healers, acting as a messenger for the Lady Eowyn… And because it wasn’t part of a game thread, I could put in as much canon character interaction as I wanted.

Some of my writing for Jano was not so ardently plagiarised however. I killed Jano’s natural father off just before she was born, but I still wanted to let him have some part in Jano’s history, so I wrote this short piece for her to roleplay at a tavern. The canon bending was very minimal, because I made her father a cousin of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth (who’s barely mentioned in passing in the books), but when they were young boys on a sailing trip. The following was therefore never written by Professor Tolkien…

The Sea Horse

On this day, Erlrohil and Imrahil decided to go sailing in their glider, the Princess, taking care not go too far out to sea as the currents there could be treacherous. At first all was well and the wind took them scudding across the waves faster than a gull can fly. They did not intend to stray too far from the shoreline, but after they had been out for an hour, what seemed to be a light mist surrounded them. For a while they could still see the shore and all they had to do was hold the course they were taking. So, when the mist got thicker and the beach gradually disappeared, they held their tiller steady, still unafraid until suddenly they were aware that their craft was travelling much faster.

Try as they might they could not turn the little boat to the starboard to hug the coast. The current held them for several minutes longer, but then, as suddenly as it had begun, it released them into clear sunshine once more and their small vessel slowed. Looking around them, the lads saw to their relief that they were in a beautiful sheltered bay they had never seen before. Realising they had come much further than they had intended, they decided they would head in towards the shore and then follow the coastline back to their summer home.

As they turned toward the shoreline they saw some horkas leaping in and out of the water not far from their boat. They smiled at each other as these small blue-grey dolphins were thought to be lucky creatures. The wind was getting strong again, and, as they did not want to be blown back into the current they decided to take the sail down. Regrettably Erlrohil, who had not often seen horkas, and could not resist looking at their agile jumps, did not concentrate enough on the task in hand. A strong gust suddenly snatched the sail and boom, which Imrahil was trying to tie down, and swung it sharply in Erlrohil’s direction. He had turned away again and did not realise his peril, despite Imrahil’s loud cry of dismay, as the boom hit him squarely in the shoulder and sent him flying through the air and into deep water.

He fell with a great shout and splash. There was a strong undertow and he was dragged irresistibly underwater back out towards the main current. Had the blow been to his head there is little doubt that he would have drowned. As it was, he was fighting for air as he finally surfaced almost back where they had arrived, far from the Princess and still being pulled away out to sea. Erlrohil was a good swimmer and struck out for the little boat, but his shoulder ached horribly and the current was far too strong for him.

He could see but not hear Imrahil, yelling at him, ashen-faced, and desperately trying to reset the sail to follow him. Seawater was filling his nose and mouth and he was pulled under once more. He could hear a hollow clanging sound and felt something swim between his legs. Instinctively he tried to grasp hold of the object, which he suddenly realised was a horka’s head and beak. The creature, supple and smooth as leather to the touch, seemed to understand his distress, and positioning itself beside him, nudged him none too gently until he took hold of its high dorsal fin. The animal immediately surged off in the direction of the Princess, Erlrohil clinging frantically to the rigid fin. It took him a while to realise how powerful the fish was. It almost felt like he was riding a horse as the horka flexed itself in an up and down rhythm through the waves, and he gradually realised the creature had actually pulled him out of the current and was taking him back towards the Princess.

As the little dolphin, barely as long as Erlrohil was tall, neared the small boat it began to slow. Imrahil, seeing what had happened, had stopped struggling with the sail and was reaching out toward him. The horka’s beaky mouth was almost touching the hull of the Princess as Imrahil, leaning over, grasped Erlrohil’s lower arm with both hands. Erlrohil almost reluctantly let go of the slick, warm fin and clasped one of Imrahil’s arms firmly as the little creature rose beneath him, boosting him out of the water.

“He’s smart!” Erlrohil shouted, teeth chattering, as Imrahil hauled him into the boat.

“Just as well he is!” Imrahil yelled angrily back at him. “Why didn’t you watch what you were doing!” then he clutched Erlrohil to him fiercely and burst into tears. “I thought you would drown,” he sobbed.

They were both crying with relief now. The horka was chittering at them, head bobbing a few yards away from the prow now, it’s long beaky mouth almost smiling at them. They both turned and watched laughing, as the horka made one huge leap into the air, twisting away from them as it hit the water and swam furiously back to its family, who were still playing their leaping games off in the distance.

“That fish just saved your life!” Imrahil’s voice was filled with wonder.

“It let me ride on its back!” Erlrohil spluttered, shivering violently. “It’s not a fish! It’s a sea horse!”

In A Freebooter’s Fantasy Almanac, because I couldn’t use any canon names at all, I changed Erlrohil’s name to Ruari, and Imrahil’s to Ærdhen. These are two of the main characters from my new (and wholly original) fantasy series, still being written, The Tomes of the Havenlands.

Bio

Siân Glírdan is the fusion persona of the elven roleplay character, Janowyn (Jano), High Bard of the River Kingdom and her ‘real world’ creator, author, Jan Hawke. Glírdan is the elven word for ‘songsmith’, and Siân is a Welsh variant of Jan (in case you were wondering!).
When it became obvious to Jan that Jano had a far better handle than she could ever have on writing in the fantasy genres, Siân was born, fully formed and raring to go. A Freebooter’s Fantasy Almanac, which is basically the manual on how Jano was brought into being and developed, is Siân and Jano’s first official collaboration. They’re currently working hard on an epic future fantasy series, Tomes of the Havenlands, loosely based on the ancient Celtic world. The first volume should reach the shelves at the end of 2016.

A Freebooter’s Fantasy Almanac back blurb

This is poetry, wrapped in fantasy, within a memoir… Or, to put it another way, it’s a true tale that might well apply to many fantasy fans and gamers who can’t be bothered with keeping their realities separated from their more lurid imaginings.
In my case, this is a sort of ‘real’ cyberspace profiling, during a phase of my life when roleplay truly did need to be therapy, because what was happening around me for real was not what I wanted to participate in. So, buckle up your swash and prepare to witness a titanic battle played out on the field of sanity – where what happens in your head is the only truth that matters.

Book links

Amazon (eBook only for now) – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01H3R5K7K
Amazon Bio – http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01H3UVW06
A Freebooter’s Fantasy Almanac blog – http://freebootersalmanac.blogspot.co.uk/

Social Media links
Twitter – @SianGlirdanBard (https://twitter.com/SianGlirdanBard)
Facebook Author page – https://www.facebook.com/SianGlirdanAuthor/

“The tour sponsored by 4WillsPublishing.wordpress.com.”

Thursday – A Little Personal – The Launch of Tribe of the Snow Tiger

May 26, 2016May 24, 2016 ~ John W. Howell ~ 12 Comments

I am using my Thursday – A Little Personal space to announce the Pre-Order Status of another in the Legends of Windemere. The reason I call it personal, I have known Charles from the first book and have participated in each of his launches. So I am so proud to be one of his supporters, and it gives me personal pleasure to help in each launch. Here is the information

Now Available on Amazon for Pre-Order!
Coming to your Kindle on June 1st!

Timoran Wrath has a shameful secret that is about to see the light of day.

The noble barbarian has always been a constant source of strength and wisdom for his beloved friends. His loyalty has been unwavering, and they know that he would never hesitate to lay down his life for them. Even in their darkest hour, the champions know that Timoran will come through and fight to the bitter end. Now they must return the favor as he reunites with his tribe and willingly faces the executioner’s blade.

Is it possible that the honorable Timoran was nothing more than an illusion?

Don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads ‘To Read’ List too!

Excerpt: The Snow Tiger

“The snow is too bright and level for me to see anything clearly,” the barbarian growls. The sound of shuffling and mild cursing draws his attention to Nyx, who has sunk up to her nose in snow. “What are you doing, fire sprite?”

Nyx shivers while squinting into the distance, her eyes coated in bronze energy. “The reason you can’t see anything might be because you’re too tall. I’m trying to see if there’s anything that breaks the level ground. My eyes are enhanced right now, but I don’t . . . wait a second . . . I think there’s something buried out there. A beast of some kind? It’s a very subtle up and down motion that reminds me of something breathing. It just stopped moving, but I don’t know what that means. I’ll lead the way.”

Not waiting for a response, Nyx pushes through the thick snow and uses wind magic to gradually shift the powder out of her path. She does her best to move quietly and avoid disturbing whatever they are approaching, but the crunch of frozen grass beneath her boots makes the half-elf cringe with every step. A violent sneeze threatens to erupt from her nose, stifled quickly by a silence spell around her nostrils. Rubbing at her cold legs, Nyx is thankful when Timoran puts a vest made of black fur over her. The Ifrit hair warms her body and drives away the looming cold that has been brewing in her chest for the last few minutes. With renewed energy, the channeler walks a little faster and adds a simple heat spell to the wind that is steadily clearing the path.

“Wow. Such a beautiful creature,” she whispers when she steps into a circular clearing that surrounds the dead beast.

The enormous snow tiger’s blue and black fur is thick, the hairs sparkling when touched by direct sunlight. It has long incisors of glistening white that jut out of its mouth due to their size and sharpness. A slender tail lies limp in the exposed grass and still twitches as the muscles continue to lose their tension. Powerful legs and massive paws are splayed on the ground, giving the body the appearance of having peacefully died in its sleep. The gaping wound in the gorgeous snow tiger’s side is the only sign of an attack, the surrounding fur matted with aromatic blood.

Timoran’s rage boils when he spots the three cubs that are mewling and pushing against their dead mother. Judging from their size and faint, black stripes, he assumes they are no older than three months. Rusty manacles are attached to their back legs, the chains running to a stake that has been driven into the muddy earth. Restraining his anger, the barbarian moves within reach of the animals and gently breaks the metal bindings that are bruising their ankles. Scared and confused, the cubs cower against the still warm corpse and hiss whenever one of the adventurers comes close. One of the snow tigers bravely charges at Timoran and bites his boot, proudly returning to the others when the towering figure moves away.

Need to catch Legends of Windemere from the beginning? Then click on the covers below!

You can start for FREE . . .

Or grab the $4.99 ‘3 in 1’ bundles!

Also Available:

Interested in a new adventure? Then grab your Kindle & dive back into the world of Windemere! Don’t forget an apple for Fizzle.

About the Author:

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Top Ten Things Not To Do If You’re A Mercenary in Windemere #newbook

January 11, 2016December 30, 2015 ~ John W. Howell ~ 50 Comments

As you may know, I have a great deal of respect for the talent of Charles E, Yallowitz. He is a prolific writer of prose and poetry and has a marvelous sense of humor. We were discussing a guest post in support of the launch of his latest book The Mercenary Prince and I casually suggested that he do a Top Ten Things Not to Do list. To my surprise and delight, he did one. This is a list that made me laugh out loud and decided to run it on my regular feature day. I think you will enjoy it and know you would like Charles’ fantasy stories. So here is Charles and his list.

Thank you to John W. Howell for hosting this guest post, which I hope is entertaining. I step into the realm of the master with a ‘Ten Things’ list that relates to the latest volume of Legends of Windemere. So here we go with ‘Top Ten Things Not To Do If You’re A Mercenary in Windemere’.

If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t challenge Selenia Hamilton the former Mercenary Queen to a duel. Sure it sounds like a good idea because she’s been headmistress of her academy for years and must be rusty. Just realize that all of her students are smirking, the healer is already getting a bed ready for you, and Selenia has claimed a broom for her weapon.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t drink heavily before a big job. Your Dwarven friend might be able to do his job with a hangover, but you weren’t born with his constitution. Few things ruin your reputation more than throwing up on the feet of your enemy. Then again, some species consider that a marriage proposal.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t make fun of the local guards and soldiers. It might seem like a good idea at the time because you don’t have to follow orders and probably get paid more. Yet there’s that highly decorated archer in the corner who will not be held responsible if you’re standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t volunteer to man the front line of a dragon hunt during your first week. It may feel like you’re being ambitious, but everyone is getting the sense that you don’t know what a dragon is. The proud smile on your face isn’t helping and now people are taking bets on if you get stepped on, eaten head first, eaten feet first, burned to death, or run away after wetting yourself.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t track down the current Mercenary Nobles to prove you can beat them. They have their titles for a reason and might not be in the mood to let you walk away under your own power. No, you don’t get points for bravery because you need to know when not to pick a fight.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t moon an ogre from the middle of your allies and from a mile away. Ogres are known for throwing boulders over long distances with precision and your pale keister is just asking for it. On the plus side, you get your name on a list of warriors who have died the same way and will be forever remembered as part of the ‘Flatten Arse Army’.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t stand in the way of a caster’s spells. You sat through the explanation from the captain, heard the caster explain that fireballs do not magically miss allies, and even heard stories from friends about accidents. Yet there you are charging ahead while your friends stay in formation because a volley of attack spells was supposed to soften the enemy. Good job.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t steal the company priest’s holy wine. It is sweet and has a hint of cherries with no threat of a hangover. It has been blessed by the Goddess of Purity. Yet, you didn’t ask permission or give any prayers of thanks, so somebody is going to learn that the Gods and Goddesses of Windemere can be rather petty. Try not to get hurt in the next battle.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t eat what your Orc allies are having. It might smell good, but it has enough spice to make the eyes of your future grandchildren cry. They claim it hardens their body before a battle, but you think it has more to do with giving off toxic sweat. At least you would think that if you weren’t laid out in the healer’s tent hearing that you no longer having stomach lining.
If you’re a mercenary in Windemere, don’t go it alone. Mercenaries aren’t like adventurers and there is success in numbers. Join one of the mercenary armies or team up with others that are looking for a group. Maybe you’ll make friends and a fortune at the same time. Just don’t join up with the creepy guy in the corner. Never work with the creepy guy in the corner.

Check out my newest book

LEGENDS OF WINDEMERE: THE MERCENARY PRINCE

And visit me at

LEGENDS OF WINDEMERE

@cyallowitz

#fantasy, #newrelease – The Mercenary Prince By Charles E. Yallowitz

January 5, 2016December 30, 2015 ~ John W. Howell ~ 9 Comments

Now on Amazon for $2.99!
LEGENDS OF WINDEMERE:
THE MERCENARY PRINCE

Delvin Cunningham has left the champions.

Lost to his tribe in the Yagervan Plains, fear and shame have kept the former Mercenary Prince away from his homeland. With his confidence crumbling, he has decided to return and bring closure to his past. Reuniting with his old friends, Delvin’s timing could not be worse as a deadly campaign is brewing within Yagervan’s borders. Dawn Fangs are on the march and these powerful vampires are determined to turn the entire region into a graveyard.

To protect his family, friends, and two homelands, Delvin will have to push his doubt away and become the cunning Mercenary Prince once again.

Please feel free to put this on your ‘To Read’ list on Goodreads by clicking below:

The Mercenary Prince on Goodreads!

Excerpt from The Mercenary Prince

With the hint of a smirk, Selenia quickens her pace and unleashes a barrage of blows on her former student. Each strike and stab is deflected by the sweat-covered champion, his speed increasing to match her every time. At one point, the half-elf leaps forward and is struck in her stomach by his shield, which forces her to flip over his head. The headmistress lands in a crouch and whirls around to block the counterattack, the point of Delvin’s sword gently running along the leather patch over her stomach. Realizing that he is still holding back, Selenia bats his next attack away and delivers a painful kick to his exposed side. The blow knocks him against the fountain and he comes dangerously close to falling into the water.

While rubbing his bruised side, Delvin circles the headmistress who turns to continue facing him. He makes a few feints that she refuses to acknowledge because they are clumsy and pathetically amateurish. The gathered students and teachers shout for more action, all of them believing the brown-haired warrior to be afraid of the legendary woman. None of them realize that his circles have been getting tighter and his fake attacks have caused Selenia to misjudge his distance. It is something she realizes when Delvin makes a quick swing for her hip and their weapons strike closer to their hilts than she expects. The moment the half-elf steps back to gain some space, her former student pushes forward with precise strikes that mirror the onslaught she previously unleashed. Without a shield, the headmistress finds it more difficult to block every attack and has to twist her body away from several attacks. The movements prevent her from throwing a kick or punch, which would probably hit the shield that he has yet to include in his advance.

Selenia eventually catches Delvin’s blade and slides her weapon along its edge to step within his swinging range. The pair push against each other, their muscles straining to gain the upper hand. Every time one of them is about to gain ground, their opponent shifts enough to continue the frustrating stalemate. With a grunt of exertion, Delvin moves his shield in front of the headmistress’s face and blocks her view. Knowing she is expecting him to push forward, the warrior falls onto his back and lets the surprised half-elf’s momentum slam her face into the wooden disc. The back of his head bounces off the ground as he flicks his wrist to deliver an extra shot to Selenia’s chin. She rolls away from him to recover her senses, but Delvin scrambles to keep her in reach and continue his attack as they stand.

“You actually hit me,” Selenia states when she notices that her nose is bleeding. She ducks under her opponent’s swing and aims her hilt for his stomach, the blow only grazing his shirt. “I think you’ve achieved two firsts for this academy, Delvin. Nobody has ever drawn my blood or made me dizzy during a match.”