FOL: Book Two Pre-Announcement

And a little bonus for you!

Hello Readers,

I’ve got some exciting news for you. I’ve finished the first draft of the second Fables of Laknohl series! It’s called The Scorn of the Centaurs. There’s more coming on that soon. This is a pre-announcement—a call to action for my loyal fans. Here’s the problem: I don’t have enough reviews on Amazon for the first book to be taken seriously. I would love to run some ads to get the word out, but most ads require at least 10 Amazon reviews. I’ve only got four. And I’m not complaining about those four; they are excellent reviews. Thank you to all who have done them! And so far, all six ratings are five stars! That’s amazing! Reviews and ratings are different, though, and I need some reviews. Write your thoughts about the book, the cover, and whether you liked it. What you love, what you hate. I need at least six to run some ads to get more word out about the book, and partly to raise awareness for the second book. I did not realize how seriously these reviews were taken, but apparently they are pretty serious.

For the bonus content I mentioned. I’m going to be running a promotion during Memorial Day weekend to get Fables of Laknohl out there. The ebook version on Amazon will only be $0.99 on Memorial Day as part of the promotion. So if you’ve not bought it, now is the time to do so, and you can read it on the Kindle or the Kindle app.

Here’s a little extra bonus: below is the prologue of book two. Enjoy!

It was a dark night. Even if the moon was full, it would still be dark under the canopy of the forest. As it happened, there was no moon this night, which made the forest even darker. This did not bother the eyes of the assassin, whose vision by night was better than most others by day. He walked through the forest effortlessly, noiselessly making his way to the buildings.

He was a stranger to Kingstown. Having never visited, the assassin waited for months watching the town from a distance, attempting to map it out in his mind so that he could take this one chance, this one night, to complete the task he was sent to do. He volunteered when the choice came, seeking to gain rank with the centaurs. He had come from a long line of rulers, but his lineage was mostly unknown to his kind.

He wished to eventually challenge King Rhombunus for the throne, but at his current rank, it would be laughable. Likely, he would have to face several lower-ranking officers in combat. While Mikair believed he could defeat most of them, he was concerned by Bemenos, the King’s General. If he pulled off this assassination, however, he would likely gain rank and move up. If he could become a general or captain, he might be able to skip Bemenos and challenge Rhombunus directly.

For far too long, his family sat in the background while Rhombunus ruled, stirring the hearts of the Centaurs toward anger and fury. For centuries, they had lived in peace under his family’s rule after abandoning The Great War and Grimwhalk to his dark fate. Now, the people were angry. King Rhombunus had ruled for over 100 years and decimated the peace they had established. He blamed Laknohl, he blamed the previous King, and he took no responsibility for his actions. The worst part was that the people followed him. Either by fear or belief. This needed to end soon, and it would if the assassination happened and he gained rank.

The assassin went to the back of the building he was seeking. The front entrance was too well-lit, and his hooves would be too hard to trod softly up the wooden stairs. The back entrance was harder to get to. There was a five-foot wall he thought he might have to scale, but it was simple enough to jump over, and there was a clearing large enough on the other side for him to land.

He slipped a cover over his hooves to soften his trod on the wooden floors. He made it into the Great Hall. Having never been in the Great Hall, he did not know where the King slept, but made a quick assessment of the building. Having keen eyes and ears did not hurt in his assessment either. He entered through the hall from the rear. It looked as if there were stairs off to the side. He looked and listened, hearing soft sleeping sounds of the chambers below. Surely a King would not sleep under the Hall, he thought. He kept trodding in, softly and slowly, so he did not make a noise. He came into the main hall and saw a doorway to his right. To his left, he saw a doorway on the opposite corner, and it looked like there was a doorway behind the throne.

The assassin stopped and listened again. He heard some more sleeping noises to his right. He went to the door and opened it softly, barely looking down the hall. There was a short hall, and it then went to the left toward the front of the Great Hall. He walked into the hall and saw that there were several rooms down the hall. He reasoned that they were likely guards’ quarters. He went out and traveled to the other side and checked the door there. There was another hall and he went down it and turned slightly right. He saw one room on the right of him, and there was a single door at the end of the hall. He went down the hall and opened the one door.

It was a vast room, chambers built for a King. Though not luxuriously decorated, it was certainly the King’s bed-chamber. The assassin ducked through the doorway, being careful not to make a sound, and drew out his large sword. He listened to the breathing of the King in his bed, and he began to sweat as he approached the side of the bed. He thought he heard an odd clicking noise as the King shuffled in his bed. He slept with the covers over his head so the assassin could not see which way he was facing and how he adjusted. The King was still sleeping, though.

To regain my family’s honor, he thought as he positioned his sword for a sudden thrust with his right hand, and with his left, he reached for the covers. He wanted to see the face of the King as he killed him. There would be no honor unless he made sure the King was dead.

I apologize for intruding on this spot. I want you to know that though this part is scary, the King does not die here. You see, for months, the council, which consisted of me, Dune, Dust, Skylark, Mhoruhk, and Rahk, had all seen signs of a centaur or a small troop of centaurs moving toward Kingstown. He figured that an assassination attempt would be soon, and so had set a trap by having Rahk sleep in the King’s bed-chamber.

Golems, for their part, do not sleep much. Rahk was the perfect candidate; he slept for a couple of hours during the day and then would stay awake at night. He had been doing this for the last couple of weeks and was hoping the attempt would be soon so that he could sleep in his quarters at normal hours again. The King, who could not sleep in Rahk’s quarters as his bed was made entirely of stone, chose to sleep in the servants’ quarters.

Before the assassin could even reach the covers, they were thrown back, and he saw a golem where the King should be. He was startled and raised up on his hind legs. The assassin adjusted and was about to throw his whole weight on the golem, which would have crushed it, but likely would not have killed a golem that was made of a hard rock. The assassin, realizing he had been discovered and could not overcome this enemy, sought a chance to escape. Then he noticed the golem pointing a device at him, which he had never seen before. It was a cylindrical device made of wood, hollowed out with an opening, and the opening was pointed at him.

Suddenly, a loud thundering noise came from the device, and the assassin found himself immediately entangled in a net that was rapidly getting heavier. Each second that passed bore to him extra weight, and as he attempted to fight it off, he found himself slumping to the floor. Within a few seconds, he succumbed to the trap and was lying immobile on the floor, breathing hard from his struggle with the net. He heard the Golem getting out of the King’s bed and walking toward him. The door flew open, and he heard others approaching where he lay.

“The trap worked, Rahk?”

“It would appear so, my King.”

The assassin recognized his captors. The golem was Rahk, the Keeper of the Kingdom, and the King, who had been hiding, now came into the room.

“Aye, it appears that Zhog’s design was more than suitable for these centaurs.”

“Yes, Dune,” Rahk agreed. “If they attack the Southlands, we should be more than equipped to handle them with these traps Zhog made.”

The assassin perked up his ears. There were more of these infernal devices, and there was no way of warning his clansmen. If King Rhombunus did attack, they may be overwhelmed by these cursed things.

“Well, what should we do with him?” Dune asked.

“He looks half-starved,” the King remarked. “Perhaps we should feed him and then question him.”

“He was sent here to kill you, my King,” Rahk rebuffed him. “We should take him to the enchanted room where he can do no harm, and then we can release him from these nets.”

“Aye, he looks pretty tangled up in there, too. Did a number on yerself, didn’t ya, laddie?”

The assassin didn’t respond, not even one humph.

“Ah, the strong, silent type,” Dune remarked. “A lot like ye, eh Rahk? I broke ye into talking more, I can break him the same way, I’m sure.”

“Let’s call the guards,” the King said, “they can help carry him to the enchanted room. Then, before we do anything, we’ll feed him. He’s still quite young. Barely out of his colt years.”

At this, the assassin did let out a small sigh, imperceptible to the trio before him. He was young and inexperienced. The King had let him do this errand and perhaps expected him to fail. He got angry and tried to get up again. The net kept getting tighter around him, making it harder for him to move.

“I wouldn’tna be doing that if I were ye, lad,” Dune informed him. “That is an enchanted netting. It’ll only get tighter as ye move and may eventually lead ye to injury. We’ll get it off once we get to the enchanted room. It’s specifically designed to keep things in the room, like ye. Ye will be safe there and well fed.”

The guards came in, and the assassin could feel himself being lifted from the floor and began carrying him out of the room.

“Be careful with him,” the King commanded as they left. “I don’t want him injured on our account.”

“He tried to assassinate you, my King, and you are treating him as a guest,” Rahk remarked.

“He is a guest,” the King retorted. “I am kept safe by your careful planning, Rahk. Now, have I not turned many a distressed heart to follow me? Trust me in how I treat this young centaur.”

Rahk hesitated in his response. He knew the King had turned many hearts toward him in the months since the Grimwhalk reappeared. He also had centuries of practice in his kindness and gentleness. His kindness usually overwhelmed people to the point of remorse for not being as loyal as they should be. He nodded to the King.

“I do trust you, my King. I know that your nature and disposition are truly difficult to hate. You turn even the most self-oriented hearts toward you.”

“Speaking of, lads, I wish Liam were here,” Dune piped in. “He’d love to have seen a centaur, and would have been most helpful in interrogations.”

“We will be able to handle the interrogations, Dune,” the King informed him. “But I have a feeling we shall need him soon, regardless. How’s he doing? Have you checked on him?”

“He’s doing fine, my King. His whole heart has changed, and he seems like a new person. He still hangs out with his old friends who seem to notice the change, while he remains unaffected by their, well, negative behaviors.”

“Good,” the King remarked. “Keep an eye on him.”

“Will do, my King.”