Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Virtual Fantasy Con - Scavenger Hunt Blog Hop

Hi, I’m, author Amy Kessler of the Here Witchy Witchy series, and I’m your host for this stop in the Hunt.

If you would like to find out more about the Hunt, please click HERE.

Somewhere on this page is a hidden number. Collect all the numbers from all the authors’ posts, and then add them up. Once you’ve added all the numbers, and if I am your last author, please head to the official website and click on the ENTER HERE page to find the entry form. Only entries will the correct number will qualify to win.

The author I’m pleased to be hosting for Virtual FantasyCon’s Blog Hop Hunt today is YA Fantasy Author – Ellen Mae Franklin.

FANTASY! It is a word that holds the reader’s imagination in the palm of a writer’s hand. The very word oozes unpredictable delights and will, no matter whether you are willing or not take, this genre will take you on a journey that begs to be believed.  I am an Australian author with an obsession for serious fantasy, revelling in the many worlds of fantasy and relish in writing novels with an abundance of traditional elements.

As a fantasy writer, I am self-indulgent in the belief that anything is possible in the writing world. Grimdark/ gritty / epic and traditional fantasy is where I dwell, so grab onto your seats, settle down with a cuppa or two and lose yourself in the worlds I create. I fall I in love with every one of my characters and am thankful they are a part of my life. It is such a pleasure to share them with you.


Born in Adelaide, South Australia I am a mother, a social media maven and an author who loves what she is doing - writing. You will find me on a plethora of social networking sites, from Twitter, Facebook, Tumbir, RebelMouse, Goodreads, Linkedin, Instagram and Pinterest as I connect with readers and other authors on various platforms.


Tarkeenia! 

I say this word in a hefty sigh.
There is a part of me that would like to visit this place. To see the Machobe Mountains which are shaped like the spine of a dragon, its tail ending on the border of Kinaloch.

I would like to visit the Halls, where the magi live and wander the forests of Farmoor, just to see the glorious Goldtip trees and the fey folk. It is a world where magic laces the air and where every so often, the broken moon becomes whole. On a night such as that anything is possible.

I would have to keep on my toes though, for intrigue and the dangerous play on the darker elements of this world’s many races may give, even me the author  -pause. You see, I know what and who lurks its dark shadows. I am aware of the flesh eaters - the Specks and the Black Pointed Priests, who sacrifice souls under a fanatical banner.

Yet, there is light and life in the world of mine. Forest feys are reborn into trees, their souls upon passing an explosion of their hearts. The wild Fallow Plains where the horseman live on the land with the great herds and trade the rare glass for metal. The exquisite figurines dwarven smiths create that surpasses the beauty of Tarkeenia.

And then, I would have to mention the odd and the strange.

The Moorling and Jaroonas, the Sandlers and the Murrdocks. Each so incredibly different, yet so much at home on the world that I would love to see.


Allow me to introduce an excerpt from the first book AND then a sneak peek at an excerpt from the newest book in the Tarkeenia Series –

Tarkeenia’s Birth – The Unseen Promise

He had sent a whisper, a teasing suggestion, and the immortals, his brothers and sisters, responded with such fervor that even he felt the tug of curiosity’s pull. Ten of the eleven sat together, embodied in their chosen forms. Changing every so often, depending on the flow of mood or the turn of a conversation. One or two threw out blinding colors, while others chose to hold physical forms, taking on the guise of their devoted followers. Each reveled in the transformation, impatient to get on with it.
The other one, believed by the rest to be craven and void of consciousness, was not at the table - a marble thing of reflective darkness, fashioned and loved by Father. To one side, rippling ever so slightly, the sliver of blackness rose a little higher, never leaving the shadows, for it did not wish to be noticed. The twisted tentacle remained silent, and listened to the argument as it rose and fell, while outside time slept.
Sharing was the basis of their argument. Could they exist together on a single world? Could they each subsist, not interfering with the race of their choosing or those of their siblings? Could it be done? Should it be done? So much Wild Magic in one place, at one time, still, who were they, if not gods? Selfish and untamed children of a higher being and refusing to be thwarted in this whim, they invoked a recipe like none other.
Each rose, and delving deep within took from their essence a pinch of Wild Magic. Calling it into existence, Tarkeenia fell favored to the following gifts:
First came a fistful of dust, thus bringing forth land.
A single glistening tear from Atheria gave the new world water and a bounty of salty oceans.
A breath, torrid but yet still sweet enough to cool the heat Emanon offered, brought forth the wind.
A trickle of blood gave the gift of life.
A bright spark, a single flame full of purpose, brought forth fire.
An ice shard, already dripping onto the ground below, gave Tarkeenia a wondrous gift, the changing of seasons.
A lump of coal was cast to the mix, and brought with it night.
A petal from a budding flower, an embodiment of scent, brought forth a world’s worth of fragrance.
A single note, perfect pitch and harmony offered Tarkeenia sound and music.
A diamond, rough and brilliant, reflecting the light, brought color to the new world.
Each was a god’s gift, each tainted in Wild Magic. It boiled and bubbled, forming the foundation of their new world, and then Father spoke. Even Drakite cringed in his hiding place.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” His words resounded in their minds and each recoiled from the asking. Father entered the chamber wearing a suit of brilliant light. It burnt their eyes just to look upon it, but to turn aside would have meant His wrath and gods though they might be, He was their Father, their creator. Reluctantly they raised their eyes, not enough to look into his, for that would have meant death, even for immortals such as these.
“A NEW WORLD!  A WORLD OF WILD MAGIC! HOW CAN THIS BE?” He demanded, the light from his immense form shimmering, partly in anger and partly in amusement, for He doted on his children nonetheless.
It was Atheria, who ventured forth with an answer. “Father, I beg you, indulge us this fancy. Do not be angered by our indiscretion, for although we acted without acquiescence we did so in the belief that we could achieve a more perfect world.”
She was a favorite; this child born of light and love, and despite His misgivings about such a venture, the Father of all gods gave His consent. He laughed, a rumbling of mountains, the shaking of a billion stars shivered in the sounding of His mirth. With a lazy toss of His head, a violet sphere appeared. It pulsed and spun in full view of them all.
“SHE WILL BE CALLED - PATA BATU; IT WILL BE THE MOON OF YOUR NEW WORLD. A KEY TO HOLD IN ALL THIS WILD MAGIC YOU SO FOOLISHLY UNLEASHED.”  With a flick of a finger, the sphere cracked and fell apart into two oscillating halves.  The separate halves of this disjointed moon were colored rose and blue. It was the sign of approval, but in the giving of such a gift, it carried with it a warning.


A peek inside book four

Belly Up - Shouts and the hurried scramble of feet woke Pubbula. The Briney rose to the challenge of entering the Bite and the mad mage woke to join the fray. The Zenith stayed hunched, sheltered behind the bulkhead, sleeping undisturbed.
Swaddled in furs and the skins of white-spotted seals Pubbula felt as if he was being slapped by hands made of ice. Fingers of cold crept in under his collar and the bones in his face were already beginning to ache. He laughed. A loud call full of eager longing, with each cresting wave Pubbula was getting closer. To death and too rebirth, back to his lost love and the one who took her away from him.
“Yes my love.” The mad mage screamed into the wind and the sailors crossed themselves.
Pirates and traders they may have been, fearless in the face Tarkeenia’s storms and nature’s contempt, but Pubbua’s defiance drew shaky hands across uneasy eyes. Warding evil and the accursed suspicions that haunted a sailor’s life.
“You best get down to your cabin sir. It’s not safe up here until we reach the harbor. The Bite is like bitch on heat this time of year. She’ll gather us up into her watery arms to smother us forever in her bosom if we don’t look lively.” Captain Pile shouted his speech into a gale force wind. 85 Thunderclouds hung low, swollen with ice rain. “Look ye up high. See them clouds.” And he pointed furiously at the boated grey mass. “We have to outrun that.”
Pubbula turned his mad grin upon the swarthy man. The man held onto a rope with one hand and with the other, Captain Pile squashed a wide brim on his head. The shape of men in the thickening gloom could be seen as they carefully climbed riggings and made their way around deck securing lashings.
With a laugh, that sounded near enough to an out of control giggle Pubbula turned and back to the onslaught and began talking again.
Captain Pile shook his head best he could. “You are as mad as that bastard,” and he glanced at Bax. The red skinned beast’s snoring was lost in the howling. “Well if you fall overboard I at least have someone sensible to deal with. He’s down below sipped a cup of warm mead. You on the other-hand stand out here in this mess, laughing like the dark one himself.”
The laughter stopped, abruptly and Pubbula swung about. “The dark one?” His eyes glinted with what looked like brightness fuelled by insanity. “You’ve see him then? Here on this ship. Where did you take him?”
Captain Pile stepped backwards. “You’re mad.” The mutterings was ripped away by the wind. He turned about and with both arms grabbed the guideline, which would lead him to safety and the warmth of below. Leaving the pair alone. The Bite would do the rest.

Media Links










Subscriber Form - http://eepurl.com/bXr_GD


 Purchase Links


The Tarkeenia Series
The Unseen Promise - Book One

Google Play - http://bit.ly/2apXBwe

Heart of Secrets - Book Two

Google Play - http://bit.ly/2acfGeR

In the Cold Light - Book Three

Google Play - http://bit.ly/2at14bB

A Dark Compendium

Google Play - http://bit.ly/2ate0yg

Did you find the number? If you did, then click Ellen Mae Franklin’s link http://authorellenmaefranklin.weebly.com/ to continue Virtual FantasyCon’s Blog Hop Hunt.

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