New Books
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Boudica: Dreaming the Hound
By Manda Scott |
| Breaca of Mona, known to all but her family and closest friends as the Boudica, leader of armies and bringer of victory, knelt alone at the side of a mountain stream and washed her face, hands, and the bleeding wound on her upper arm in the torrent. The water ran briefly pink where she had been. She cupped clean water in both palms, rinsed her mouth and spat out the iron aftertaste of blood. Read more |
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Dusk
By Tim Lebbon |
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The horse walked toward the village, the rider shifting in fluid time to his mount's steps. The man's body was wrapped in a deep red cloak, pulled up so that it formed a hood over his head, shadowing his face. His hands rested on his thighs. The horse made its own way along the road. Loose reins hung to either side of its head, its mane was clotted with dirt, and its unshod hooves clacked and clicked puffs of dust from the dry trail. Only one man on a horse, and he did not appear to be armed. Read more |
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Full Moon Rising
By Keri Arthur |
| Though it was after midnight, it was a Friday night, and Friday nights were usually party nights--at least for those of us who were single and not working night shift. This section of Melbourne wasn't exactly excitement city, but it did possess a nightclub that catered to both human and nonhumans. And while it wasn't a club I frequented often, I loved the music they played. Loved dancing along the street to it as I made my way home. Read more |
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One Good Knight
By Mercedes Lackey |
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Princess Andromeda stood on the very edge of a ledge three-quarters of the way up the cliff above the Royal Palace of her mother, Queen Cassiopeia of Acadia, holding out her arms to the wind. The same wind flattened her tunic against her body, and sent strands of her hair flying about her face as they escaped from the knot at the back of her neck. She raised her face to the sun, closing her eyes. Read more |
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Thousandfold Thought
By R. Scott Bakker |
| There had been a time, for Achamian, when the future had been a habit, something belonging to the hard rhythm of his days toiling in his fatherís shadow. His fingers had stung in the morning, his back had burned in the afternoon. The fish had flashed silver in the sunlight. Tomorrow became today, and today became yesterday, as though time were little more than gravel rolled in a barrel, forever brightening what was the same. He expected only what heíd already endured, prepared only for what had already happened. His past had enslaved his future. Only the size of his hands had seemed to change. Read more |
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Talking to Trees
By Kathryn Sullivan |
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The highly anticipated sequel to Amber Quill Press's best-seller and 2002 EPPIE Award Winner for Best Fantasy, The Crystal Throne... Jody Burns takes her brother Peter's silvery bracelet because it looks good with her outfit. Little does she realize it's the key to another world... Read more |
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Of Water and Dragons
By Kelley Heckart |
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Like many literary trends, that of mythic revivalism and historical fantasy has been an
abyss of semi-memorable novels marked by a few outstanding works Of Water and
Dragons being among the best... Read more |
