Four Fools Press: #Raulston

Showing posts with label #Raulston. Show all posts

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Amazon best-selling author R. R. Hunsinger is at it again with his latest release, Finnegan's Wake, a compelling, entertaining, and entirely unique look into the world of the supernatural...

What is the worth of a man's Soul? What is good? What is evil? Redemption? Damnation? That is what two old friends meet to discuss over a pint or two in an Irish Pub. It is soon discovered that this is no mere idle debate as two supernatural forces clash over the fate of one Mickey O' Shea.

Get it on Kindle here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075ZQY5DL

Finnegan's Wake now on Kindle!

6:43 AM

Finnegan's Wake now on Kindle!

#finngeanswake #Hunsinger #Raulston #supernatural

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

R. R. Hunsinger's very first compiled Erlik's Saga Volume, Courage and Steel, is now available via Kindle! As you well know, we released this as a print version a few weeks ago, but now we've gone the extra mile and made a version that is Kindle compatible as well!

With two illustrated tales by the amazing artist, Michael C. Munson, and two never-before published stories, Courage and Steel, in print or Kindle versions, this is a must for anyone who loves thrilling viking tales, supernatural shivers, or historical awesomeness!

Get it on Kindle here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MFDUBV2/

Courage and Steel, now on Kindle!

8:58 AM

Courage and Steel, now on Kindle!

#courageandsteel #Erlik #Hunsinger #Raulston

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Four Fools Press is very pleased to announce the publication of Dark Roots, Volume 1 in The Reese Legacy, a series that is near and dear to author, R.R. Hunsinger's heart. Here's the scoop on this exciting new series:

For centuries, members of the Reese family, using faith, magic, and steel, have railed against the gate of Hell and all the evils that surpass human understanding. Each generation chronicles its secrets, trials, defeats, and victories for the next. For mankind, history is a battle between good and evil. For a Reese, it is their legacy.

Welcome to Dark Roots, three branches of horror and heroics from the Reese Family Tree:

The Hunters - England 1611. James Joshua Reese returns from the last of the Crusades only to begin another as he seeks the end of a demon’s twenty year killing spree.

The Fox and Hound - Carolinas 1777. While running powder for Washington’s beleaguered army, Elias Kirby, a sorcerous privateer, runs afoul of another, more powerful magic-user, a vicious Lieutenant in the pay of King George.

The Snare of the Hunted - Massachusetts 1925. Eric Reese, an adventurer and mercenary, has his evening’s rest destroyed by the terror an old friend brings to his door.

One volume, three awesome tales, each with some amazing illustrations to boot! So, if some supernatural, historical-fiction awesomeness is what you've been craving, then you need to pick up Dark Roots today!

Dark Roots becomes our 15th Four Fools Product

10:54 AM

Dark Roots becomes our 15th Four Fools Product

#darkroots #Hunsinger #Raulston #Reese

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Ya liked that pic, huh? Well, you should see the rest of it! That's actually one of the reasons why I thoroughly enjoy being an Art Director for Four Fools Press. I actually volunteered for the position, believe it or not. That's right...AND it wasn't the private yacht, or the fourteen months of paid vacation that I get every year that made me make the tough call.

It was the fact that I get to be the SECOND person in the world to see awesome images like that pic up there for the very first time. The FIRST person is obviously, the artist, in the case, the awesome-as-can-be artistic genius by the name of Mike Munson. Regardless if you're the second, third, or fiftieth person who gets to see this that kinda awesomeness, however, if you ask me -- that's the sort of stuff that makes me want to get out of bed in the morning.

What can I say? There's just something about seeing words transformed into images that just cranks my tractor.

Another of the things that I love, love, love about being an Art Director is when you find an artist who is fun to work with, someone who does not take themselves or their craft TOO seriously, but just seriously enough. Mike is definitely one of those guys. Right now, we're working on several projects for a whole series of books for Year Two of Four Fools Press and we're really pulling out the stops.

The awesome demon piece at the top of the page, as well as the ones below are all for an Illustrated version of a new series from Amazon Best-selling Author (yes he makes me write that, and he's bigger than me, so....) R. R. Hunsinger.

I cannot say more about it just yet, but suffice it to say its about monsters, and demons, and creatures of the night -- and the things that hunt them. One of the things that hunts them is a guy named Eric Reese and Mike was busy doing his thing, pounding out some sketches and character concepts for Eric so we could figure out what he looked like. Things were really starting out pretty good.

But then, we run into this one scene and we were having a very tough time trying to sort out this one particular pose wherein Eric is trying to summon something nasty from Beyond....

While it was good, it just was not doing it for me, or for the esteemed Mr. Hunsinger. Try as hard as we might, we just could not get it right.

Then, Mike drops this into my Inbox:

And that, boys and girls, is a visual depiction of why I LOVE being an Art Director!

There endth the lesson.

If you want to know more about what's going on for Year Two for us here at Four Fools Press, be sure and join the mailing list - big update coming soon!

Why I LOVE being an Art Director

4:39 PM

Why I LOVE being an Art Director

#art #artdirector #funny #Hunsinger #Raulston

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Artwork © Christopher Lovell, All Rights Reserved - http://lovell-art.deviantart.com/
Story and Characters © Raulston Hunsinger, All Rights Reserved
Brought to you by Four Fools Press: “Crazy Good Stories”

“They come,” Princess Adwin said in a low murmur. She was sweating in her mail, her helm heavy on her head beneath the noon sun as it baked the scrubby grassland that stretched out before her.

High on the parapet of the fortress called unflatteringly, the Plug, because it blocked passage through the Briginbar Pass, she took in the vast army that spread out across the plain. The dead army. They stood row upon row, slowly swaying in their ordered lines, as if they had to continually adjust their balance. The stench of those that were recently recruited reached her at this height and distance.

The dwarf turned to the human that stood beside her. Tall, even for his race, he was as spar as a pine, his shoulders slightly stooped with the age and mail that weighed him down. She allowed her eyes to drop to the sword at his side, an ancient battle-blade, with a worn hilt and a pommel of silver, a baying wolf head with emeralds for the eyes. A relic of another age, the blade of a Wolf-Knight. The elite warriors that served the High Kings of the humans. The High King was no more and men such as this one served various lords, recalling that ancient order as their own. Behind him, in forest leathers, a chain vestment his only armor stood a young man. Armed with a short-sword and bow, a quiver across his back, this was his apprentice, or squire as they called these stripling knights in training.

The three necromancers, undead themselves, detached from their horde and stood patiently in front of the great stone gates of the Fortress Briginbar, the true name for the Plug. Desiccated things from a bygone time when a great sprawling kingdom lay to the south of the grass lands. None knew what had ended that vast empire, but these three had emerged from the dry wastes to challenge the living and the Plug barred their way to verdant lands and the human kingdoms beyond. One appeared to be goblin-kin, mummified with its elongated ears still prevalent, snaggled incisors, and mossy beard. Black pits for eyes stared blankly up at the top of the wall as it stood mutely, a fetish staff topped with a human skull in its fist. Another was a skeletal husk draped in rotting silks and veils, as the woman of the Western Seas, with its cities of gold minarets wore. Little could be seen save cadaverous shadows and glimpses when a breeze caught the gossamer garments. The center of the trio, the one that stood to the fore, was a woman, white skinned, her bleached features covered by a heavy black cowl and gold embroidered robes. Talon tipped hands gripped a grimoire. About the whole, including the hoard, various carrion birds wheeled and dived, not attacking, confused by the mobility of their meals.

“Shall we go parley, Sir Knight,” the princess said, her tone bordering on insult.

The old knight stroked his beard, his pale eyes gimlet sparks in the wrinkled folds of his face. “No need. They have no reason to discuss terms other than to have you in their grasp, Lady. They will simply try to overrun the walls with their vast numbers. What are casualties to those already dead?”

The Lady Dwarf looked out over the gathered dead then back to her own defenders, stout dwarves all, armored and preparing defenses. Indeed, what are casualties to the dead?

***

The Guestbook has been among the Top 100 for all Horror Anthologies! Nab your copy today!

3-4-15 Wednesday Warm-up

9:01 AM

3-4-15 Wednesday Warm-up

#adventure #AmazonBestseller #fantasy #fiction #Hunsinger #MMWW #Raulston #undead #WritingExcercise #WritingWarmup #zombie

Monday, February 9, 2015

2-9-15 Writing Warm-up

Brought to you by Four Fools Press: “Crazy Good Stories”

Dr. Nordstrom pulled a cord that ran alongside the door. Cole heard no signal, but the panel on the grated window shot back and a pair of wideset dark eyes regarded them. The head nodded and there came the sound of heavy bolts being moved. The door opened to reveal a small room, a sally port. There was another heavy door set the left, this copper sheathed, oak beneath if Cole had to make a guess. He noted the rope pull and small bell attached. There was a table and two leather cushioned chairs. The remains of a breakfast plate and coffee sat atop it.

He was greeted by a matronly woman in a full nurse’s garb, of gray and white skirts and apron, with a steepled wimple-like nurse’s cap upon her own graying crown. The man that had let them in was tall, with heavy shoulders, as tall as Cole, but thirty pounds heavier than his one-ninety, some of that useless around the middle. His flat, slightly misshapen nose and scarred knuckles revealed his previous occupation. The short wooden truncheon at his belt made his current all too clear. From beside the weapon he took a ring of keys and unlocked the interior door, throwing back bolts. He opened it, releasing the sounds from within.

A scream erupted from somewhere down the corridor, followed by a couple of other cries, and a few jeers. Cole stiffened for the sight that would greet him as he followed the doctor and nurse. The orderly trailing, securing the door behind them.

The corridor was well lit by stanchions that emitted the soft glow of gas lamps set between each door on the left side of the long hall, the floor walls were tiled in white, reflecting the lamp light. No reek of waste and death, but a faint sting of an astringent, maybe lye.

Doctor Nordstrom noted Cole’s reaction with some pleasure. “We are progressive here, sir. We do not treat our patients as some rabid beasts. They are unfortunate women that need our help with such maladies as hysteria, or other imbalance in their personality. The other wings hold men and we even have a tuberculosis ward. We are far from barbaric here.”

“And Mrs. M?”

“As I said, an unusual case. She seems quite lucid and sane, then as if some dark window is opened in her mind and this...... Well, she becomes quite manic.” He stopped in front of the third door.

With courtesy the nurse rapped on the door before sliding back the grate. “A visitor for you, ma’am. Mr. Cole.”

Cole did not hear the muffled reply, but the boxer-turned-orderly twisted a key at the nurse’s direction, the other hand on his club. Cole stepped in front of the man and passed the doctor.

The woman was striking and very attractive. Her oval face was strong featured, with a firm jaw, pert nose, and wide, generous mouth. Her black hair was piled atop her head in a functional coiffure that seemed to fit her. Her attire was simple, yet strangely fashionable, a bustled affair of black satin and lace. What arrested Cole’s speech were her eyes. They were a lambent blue, huge and wild. The piecing orbs struck him physically, almost staggering him.

“Mr. Cole!” she intoned as one of the furies pronouncing sentence on the damned. “Know that I have her trapped in here with me...... and she wants out!”

***

Want More? Join the Four FOols Mailing list NOW!