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Wednesday, December 3, 2014

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

Check out this sample from our next release, another chapter in the Amazon Best-selling Erlik's Saga: Weregild, available for Pre-Order soon!

Brother Sean finished binding Erlik's wound. “That was foolishness,” he hissed in Gaelic. "I've told you a hundred times that your sword has a point...use it! You let your anger get the best of you, and now you are facing him wounded. You could not withdraw when your father gave you the option?”  

“Would you?” The youth pointedly looked at the woman and her crying daughters, frightened and huddled together amid the jeering, leering men.

The priest glanced at the women, his lips drawing back into an involuntary snarl. “As a man of God, no, but you are not of the White Christ. There have been terrible, evil acts committed by your father and his men before, Erlik. Why do you act now?” 

“Because this time I can act!” 

“Why act at all, you stupid pup!” Efelwere cuffed his son with a gauntleted fist that rang off his iron helm. “They are spoils of a raid! Adulwulf has a claim!” The war-leader snarled into his son's face, his sun darkened fair skin was purple with rage. “Now he kills you!” 

“Would you not act if it was Mother?” Erlik leapt back at his father, his own dark features black as he still raged in Gaelic. “Remember that girl you gave me two years ago after that Irish raid? I was the one who helped her escape!” 

Efelwere staggered back as if physically struck by his son. Brother Sean stirred uncomfortably, and it was then that the Ring-Breaker knew. A new light dawned in his pale eyes, and he laughed, so loud and hard that the men who were gathering for the battle were startled. The assembled Northmen shifted and nervously eyed each other, wondering if their war-leader had gone mad.

“Odin's blood, boy! I knew it was a mistake to keep this godi by your side, no matter how wise a man he is! You've positively become Christian!” He laughed again, clapping Erlik on the shoulder and embracing him. “But you have your courage and your own mind, I will give you that. I shall ask Odin not to take you to his hall yet.” He looked seriously into his son's pale eyes, so much like his own. “If you live long enough, Erlik, you will have your own sagas sung. Luck in battle!” He walked away to take his place at the ring beside Ragnar who had just returned empty handed from his pursuit.

Brother Sean took his place at Efelwere’s left hand. “You could have stopped it.” The priest could feel the tension in his friend’s body as he watched the two youths preparing to battle. “I would not see my sister’s son die in some foolish feud!” the Celtic priest said in a harsh whisper that only Ragnar could over hear.

“You stop him then, priest!” the Viking snarled as he motioned to the men closing on each other. “Better you should have never made me promise to let you educate the boy when I went to claim him.”

“I had hoped to influence him before he became a reaver like you. But he was your son long before he was my student.”

Efelwere clapped his old friend lightly on the shoulder. “He was lost to you before he was ever born.”

***

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http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PULHL6K

12-3-14 Writing Warm-up

1:09 PM

12-3-14 Writing Warm-up

#MMWW #WritingExcercise #WritingWarmup cover cover sneak Hunsinger mmww R. R. Hunsinger saga sneak peek viking writing exercise writing warm-up

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

11-18-14 Writing Warm-up

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

The barren stretch of beach was little more than wind blasted rock as the small boat ran up on its gravelly edge. Two stout fair haired men leapt out into the freezing foam and hauled the craft further out of the surf. The eight others that formed the remainder of the crew followed quickly and the within moments the light, but sea worthy craft was above the high tide mark and staked fast to the shore.

Erlik Rowenson, called “Black Erlik”, wrapped himself tightly in his salt encrusted, damp, woolen cloak—the mail beneath his leather jerkin offering little warmth. His pale blue eyes scanned the rock and pebbled beach, following along the low hills covered with brown stunted grasses, to the west where shear craggy cliffs rose above the gray white capped sea.

“Home.” The word was the bastard son of a sigh and a curse.

The white bearded grizzled leader of the small expedition approached Erlik. “Yer here and safe as promised.” The elder extended a weathered hand, as brown and tough as the rest of him. “Now, as ye promised.”

The dark warrior dropped a heavy gold ring into the older man’s outstretched hand. For that treasure he could have easily purchased his own boat.

The fisherman nodded, feeling the heft of the ring in his palm. “You and yours will find the village over yonder,” He directed with his chin.

Erlik returned the nod with one of his own. “I am grateful.”

The old fisherman just grunted and motioned for his sons to follow and they trudged up the beach toward the low hills and the village of Ap Mathin beyond.

The wanderer’s hobnailed boots crunched sea shells and loose rock as Erlik walked along the bleak beach away from the men that had borne him across the rough seas, to the worn path he had known as a boy. It wound up toward the craggy cliffs then down to the valley concealed between the massive face and the low hills that lapped at them, like waves frozen in the eons. There was the squat, round hovel of his youth and likely birth, though his mother never said as much.

Erlik discerned no smoke from the cook fire that once smoldered constantly with the peat and drift wood that Rowan used. Coming upon the hut he saw the ground about it was wild with brambles, no sheep or goats had grazed here for a long time. The stones that made up the walls were crumbling; the mud mortar and moss sluiced away with time, the thatch, such as remained was rotted and sparse. The rickety door, half off its moldering leather hinges, leaned at an odd angle. Without conscious thought, Erlik gripped the hilt of the broad sword that had been his father’s, in turn serving him as constant companion for the last ten years. With a rough, battle scared hand he pushed his way inside, and then quickly fell back.

***

Tides of Fate and Erlik's Saga are coming to Four Fools Press VERY SOON! If you want more awesomeness like this? Join the Four FOols Mailing list NOW to get access to exclusive Four FOols content, free product, and tons of discounts and special offers: http://eepurl.com/NzeVD

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11-18-14 Writing Warm-up

2:02 PM

11-18-14 Writing Warm-up

#MMWW #WritingExcercise #WritingWarmup cover Hunsinger mmww R. R. Hunsinger saga sneak peek viking writing exercise writing warm-up

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Just a little sneak peek of the cover of our next release from R. R. Hunsinger, Tides of Fate, an installment in Erlik's Saga! The cover's not 100% yet, but its getting closer. Let us know what you think. Someone that shares, +1's, or comments below just might get a free copy!

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Cover Sneak - Tides of Fate!

2:14 PM