I know, it seems as though it’s been forever since I posted here. It kinda has. After I finished Zahn’s Scoundrels, I tried to take a break from reading and focus on writing The Aegipan Revolution, the sequel to my first novel. I made some good progress (I’m about 25,000 words in and maybe 1/6 through the plan, but expect the word count to go down with edits), but I lacked the perseverance to chase down an entire novel before reading anything else. So I picked up one book, then two more; one of those should get a review here within the next couple of weeks, I expect.
In case you missed it, I released another “31 Prayers” book–31 Prayers for Hope. You can learn more about this new prayerbook here.
In the meantime, I’ve also been working on creating book covers for the other two installments of the Chimaera trilogy. The first sequel, of course, is The Aegipan Revolution, and the third book in the trilogy (technically a prequel) is The Python Protocol. When I was making them, I thought, “Maybe I should just reveal these,” but I realized that would be giving everything away, and then you’d expect me to deliver soon. Instead, I’m giving you a little piece of the puzzle.
The Aegipan Revolution cover, part one
Speaking of snippets, I’m also throwing in a smidgen of text. This is Rough Draft material; it’s subject to change, but the scene likely will appear in the final product. You may recall from the end of The Chimaera Regiment that (Spoilers! Highlight to read:) Hector and Bronwyn had a son, whom they named Ronen; after he became emperor, we learn in the sequel, Ronen had son of his own, named Cadmus. In this scene, we join Cadmus on a leisurely hunt.
Cadmus followed the trail of the goat in the soft earth. The wind was fairly strong here, and the dirt thinned as he climbed higher. He feared that billowing dust would soon obscure the tracks, so he increased his pace. The reality of the world was like that, he decided: a set of prints, plain as day to some, but hidden by hardship for others. Maybe it wasn’t his job to argue that the prints were there; maybe he just had to clear away the dust and open their eyes.
He found the precipice suddenly. The hill came to an abrupt halt, dropping three hundred feet to a forest below. Cadmus kept his footing, but he wavered precariously at the edge. He sat down quickly. When his hands reached the rock beneath him, he pushed himself back a pace. A few breathless moments passed before he was confident in his stability. Leaning forward again, he surveyed the countryside. Below him, the forest stretched three miles to the south and nearly five miles to the east, neatly bordering the hills he had spent the day roaming. Studying the eastern border, he realized that his camp with Sam was among the trees there.
He paused for a moment, watching the breeze ripple the treetops; each wave cascaded with green and brown, vibrant in the early afternoon sun. This place really was peaceful. He knew that he might miss the wonders of the Library if he stayed here, but was natural wonder not so much better? That which made man–whether gods or earth–was so much greater than that which man made; it hardly bore comparison. Among the stones of Annifrea, a man could be truly powerful, wielding the implements of bygone ages–but among the greenery, a man could be truly free, released by the short memory of the wilderness. Cadmus doubted that the two could ever coexist.
The forest below waved at him again, and a silver glint caught his eye. He tried to peer closer, but to no avail–the distance and the foliage obscured his sight. Curiosity got the better of him; he stood and turned to go back the way he had come, intent on finding the mysterious object.
How he escaped being gored, Cadmus would never be quite sure. The collision of the goat’s head with his chest knocked the wind from his lungs and sent him tumbling over the precipice!
Keep an eye out for more updates, along with upcoming book reviews!