From Book 2

Book Two of The Frostbourne Chronicles will be out soon.  Here's a little taste.

Prologue

            Morkak sat in his makeshift mobile laboratory.  Laboratory…that was a joke.  The tired old Goblin spat on the dusty floor.  This was no lab, it was a refuse pile.  His own little hovel had been better equipped.  He limped back and forth on twisted legs, stirring a pot here, poking a fire there, and always taking time to threaten the living creatures that cringed in their cages that were scattered across the dimly lit room.

            The air hung heavy and still in his darkened room.  Morkak dreamed of the days before all this, the days before the Empire, the days before they broke his legs, the days before, well the other things they did were even worse.  He missed his home, but he did like causing a little mischief from time to time, and the Empire seemed to enjoy his particular brand of mischief.

            Morkak lit a greasy candle and hung a small beaker over it.  He added ingredients from dingy half-marked bottles, a pinch of this, a dash of that, the concoction turned a putrid pale green and caused the Goblin to gag.  Perfect, the brew was ready for a volunteer.  Morkak hopped off his stool and cackled wildly. 

“Here kitty, kitty.” He called with a voice like a zombie toad.   That reminded him, he should check on his other experiment soon.

            His concentration was once again abruptly interrupted as yet another unwanted guest entered his lab.  Alurial looked around in disgust.  Filth covered the floors, tables, and workbenches.  Smashed glass vials and bottles littered the floor; piles of refuse had been pushed aside and crammed into corners to make way for what Alurial could only assume would be more filth and crap.

            Morkak stormed, as best he could on his twisted legs, across his lab and confronted the tall, impossibly leggy, Alurial. 

“What are you doing in my lab!?” he demanded in a shrill voice.  “I told the guards I was not to be disturbed!  What do you want?  Never mind, just get out!  Out!  Out!  Out I say!” 

Morkak moved forward in an attempt to dislodge Alurial from his precious lab before she upset one of his experiments or worse, tried to talk to him!  The scantily clad woman was not impressed and remained where she was while the Goblin spent his tantrum.

            Alurial stepped forward and after kicking some trash and what might have been a dead marmot out of the way put her right foot on one of the short benches and leaned forward.  This provocative move was designed to get her closer to the Goblin and gain his undivided attention.  Her dress was slit to just above her hip bone and gave Morkak a breathtaking view of all she had to offer.  The Goblin bounced away cackling madly.

            “Heee heee!  That won’t work on me missy!  Your feminine wiles have no place here!”  Morkak pulled up his filthy tunic and revealed his mutilated nether regions.  “See, you have nothing for me!  Ha ha!  Now be gone!” 

Alurial had already determined another course of action if her first didn’t work.  In a move only slightly slower than a lightning strike, she snatched up the hapless being by his throat and slammed him into the wall.  Morkak hit with a thud and a cloud of dust.

            “Now you understand me creature!  I don’t give two humps in hell about you!  I would just as soon grind you under my boot heel as have to endure your incessant being!” 

She dropped Morkak in a heap and the Goblin decided it best just to lay there and listen. 

“However, it happens that we need each other.”  Morkak looked up questioningly. 

“How, what could you possibly want from me, and what do you think I need from you?” 

            His quizzical side had triumphed briefly over his cautious side and he was rewarded with a sharp kick to the ribs that sent him tumbling across the room.  Alurial waited for his coughing and wheezing to subside before she continued. 

“Now worm, come over here and perhaps we can continue this discussion in a more friendly manner, or do you enjoy this way better?”  Alurial’s horned mask held one side of her visage in a permanent grin, quite unsettling.  Morkak dusted himself off and moved over to sit at Alurial’s feet.

            “That’s better.  Now, I’ll help you with your Dragon’s Fire potion so our armies can burn that dreadful forest to the ground.”  The expression on the Goblin’s face told all. 

“How did you…?” he suddenly ducked as he prepared to be slapped when his new Mistress moved her hand. 

“Fear not Morkak.”  She took his grease smeared chin in her hand and held him still as she removed her mask.  “First, you will help me with this.”  Morkak tried not to scream, he really did.

Who Plays Teppia in the Television Series The Frostbourne Chronicles?

Recently I asked for input about the best actress to play Teppia if The Frostbourne Chronicles was picked up for a TV series.

The result was overwhelmingly in favor of Summer Glau.  It's quite easy to see why if you have ever watched her in Firefly, Serenity, or The Sarah Connor Chronicles.  She has that silky look and that great unblinking stare.  I have to agree with my fans.  She would make a great Teppia.

The Warrior and the Mountain

The Warrior and the Mountain

            As a child I went to the mountain to partake of the wisdom therein.  I sought out the grasses, the tress, the stone, and the mud.  I saw all the wonders that dwelled within and without.  It was on the Mountain I learned the ways of the hunter, the warrior, and the lover.

            The years passed and I came of age.  As a young man I left the Mountain and carried its wisdom deep inside.  I traveled many a year and found both fame and fortune.  Riches beyond my wildest dreams, and women…oh, the women.

            Still quite young but wearied and torn by my years on the road I soon longed to return to the Mountain with a woman to call my own.  It was on the Mountain where I made a home and my wife bore my three sons and a girl.  The years were good and the harvest bountiful.  It was on the Mountain I saw my infant sons change into men, warriors, hunters, and lovers by their own rights.  My baby girl found a good strong man and had babies of her own.  They all left the Mountain.

            The years passed and the Mountain remained the same.  Soon all that was had come to pass and I found myself alone.  The one boy returned, my eldest.  I bade him help an old man from his bed.  He held my arm and steadied my gait as I walked out on my Mountain.  We walked until the sun would soon set and he bid me rest at the peak.

            The day grew dim or perhaps just my eyes as I lay there.  I bid my son return to the house for some trinket I had forgotten.  In his absence I surrendered myself whole unto my old friend.  In the end was as in the beginning, there was only the Warrior and the Mountain.

Frostbourne Sample

Prologue

     The sun refused to shine under a cloudless sky. Silhouetted against the darkness, winged figures made their way through a blanket of forged night, in hiding, to a secret, long forgotten fortress high atop the foreboding razor sharp peaks. A flash of dry, conjured lightning should have cast a pale green pall on the creatures, but they seemed to consume the very light itself. Slowly and deliberately they climbed in the still air to arrive at the dark maw of a cave opening. This was their destination, the place of secret, the place where deals were done, and treachery abounded.

     “Why have you summoned us?” Demanded the hooded figure that stepped forward of the woman seated on a black throne. “What gives you the right to despoil that seat with your unsightly flesh? Speak! Why have you called?”

The woman smiled a poisonous smile, the dark smile of one who knows something and revels in being the only one. She slid easily, languidly from the throne she had briefly usurped. “Forgive me masters.” She bowed low, but it was a mockery and they all knew it. “It is starting.”

     “What is starting?” The others had gathered round in the darkened hall. Oily torches, which had sustained the living flame since before time itself was known, cast a sickly, chill light. They all dressed in black and were hooded except for the woman; her long blond hair fell in waves across her shoulders and spilled across her ample breasts. She alone showed her face at the gathering. “The war with the Elves, how?” The speaker demanded.

The woman smiled. “I have my ways. The Empire is greedy, like a child that yearns for more candy, but sadly finds it out of reach; I simply guided their hand towards what they longed for.” She licked her fingers provocatively.

She circled each member, each conspirator as she spoke, arriving back at the vacant throne. The woman brazenly put one foot upon the arm of the throne, exposing herself to the hip. “It is time for you all to live up to your end of the bargain, this seat will be mine!”   

“Our end of the bargain?” The original protestor unwisely spoke up again. “What is this treachery you speak of? Do you really think we will allow your actions to continue? We only allowed you this dalliance because we thought you mad and it would keep you out of our hair.”

The speaker stepped forward alone to confront her and froze in his tracks. His eyes rolled up into his head, exposing the whites as he began to convulse. Thick red tendrils snaked around his body as life left his limbs and his form began to change. Slowly, wings sprouted from his back and his cloak was torn away. His face twisted into a reptilian visage, claws replaced his well manicured nails. The transformation was complete and the speaker was quite dead.

The woman slid back into the throne and hung both legs over one arm of the cold ebony chair. She kicked them about playfully. “Wait, there is more.” She pulled a powdery substance from a small pouch at her side and blew it on the lifeless form at her feet. The corpse twitched back to life and slowly stood. With a look from its’ new master, the undead Dragon Servant shuffled slowly from the hall to wait with the others she had turned.

The lady sighed. “It doesn’t last long you know. The stiffness will take him soon and then of course the rot. Pity, he will be able to feel his body as the maggots consume his flesh and hasten his decomposition, but he will linger until I release him.”

“The Ten shall hear of this, they will know!” one of the hooded figures stammered.

“How?” she asked. “Are you going to tell them?” she glared threateningly.

“No, of course not. It’s just, we have to be sure. They will know if we don’t hit them all at once.”

“True, but that is no concern of mine. That task falls to you.” She stood once more. “You know what you have to do. Don’t disappoint me!” the temptress usurper gave a dismissive wave. “Now, be gone from my sight!”

The sun still refused to shine as the figures, minus one, made their way back into the darkened sky. The task before them was a daunting one, but it must be done. They all knew that their new mistress would seek foul retribution on each if they failed. They flew off to the distant corners from whence they came to contemplate their next move. Whatever they did, it would have to be soon.

Sam Trawick

The Frostbourne Chronicles Book One

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If The Frostbourne Chronicles is made into a TV series who should play Teppia?

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Sam Trawick

Even Unto A Child

Even Unto a Child

She was only fifteen

Sometimes she would sit in the same row as my idiot friends and I

One Sunday she showed me a growth through her shirt that had sprung up over night

I went to see her in the hospital

My father was the preacher, it was expected

Her mother had been sitting with her and quietly left when I came in

We were alone

She held her hand out and said “come closer”

“Closer”, she said, “Come closer”

I stood by her bed and held her hand

She pulled me in and kissed me

“My mother helped, I’m clean” she said

She pulled me down next to her

I looked at her questioningly

“Closer”, she said

She held me tight

I held her as a lover would

Two became one

Skin on skin

Even after, I held her

I held her tight

Perhaps in that moment I loved her

For that moment

I know with all my heart I wanted her to live

Three days later she succumbed

The cancer or the drugs

Her body gave up the fight

I went to the funeral

My father was the preacher, it was expected

I sat on in the back row with my idiot friends

After the service we stood as her parents left

Her mother paused at my side

Her tired hand gently touched my cheek

She leaned over and kissed my other cheek

Whispered in my ear “Thank you”

Dumbly, I nodded

I didn’t know what else to do

I was only seventeen