Chapter 3

The shop had no sign, and the front window was covered from inside by heavy curtains. This magician takes his privacy seriously, if he isn’t even advertising for new business. Mikal opened the door of the shop and stepped inside.

Mikal blinked at the unexpectedly bright light of the floating globes of magelight that danced in the air just below the ceiling. The front room was paneled in dark wood, with a narrow counter dividing the room in half. On two sides the room was covered with shelves carrying various small and intricate items, though he couldn’t tell exactly what purpose they might serve. Across the counter from him, a large mirror hung on the wall next to another door covered with a heavy curtain. The outer door rang a set of chimes as it closed, and a voice called out from the back room. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I’ll wait,” said Mikal. He let the door close behind him.

The curtain was shoved aside as another man entered. He was younger than Mikal, no more than seventeen, but he bore himself with confidence and authority. His hair was black and cut short, over green eyes in a pale face. He was dressed in a bright red robe over a yellow shirt, with a black leather belt at the waist. Though he was shorter than Mikal, he had a more commanding presence, as if he were used to being listened to. The new arrival brushed sawdust off his hands, before extending one in greeting. “Welcome, sir. My name is Rian, and this is my shop. How can I help you?”

Mikal shook his hand briefly, hiding his surprise. He had assumed Rian was an apprentice or high-ranking servant because of his youth. For one so young to be in charge was not unheard of, but it did imply a great deal of talent and skill. In the Imperium, that meant either noble birth or powerful friends, and either one could be dangerous to those who lived on the fringes of Imperial society. Mikal decided to tread cautiously. “I’m Jasra,” he said, hoping the real owner of the name wouldn’t mind, “I have a problem. I was told you might be able to help me.” He lifted up a tightly wrapped bundle from where he’d leaned it against the counter, and quickly unrolled it. Inside was a three-foot bow of plain, white wood and a quiver of arrows. In the upper arm of the bow was a deep gash which extended into a long, sinuous crack that ran down its length almost to the grip at the center.

Rian whistled sympathetically, and ran his finger down the length of the crack. When he looked up, he said, “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” He shrugged. “I’m afraid magic only works with rock and metal. There isn’t a magician alive who could do anything with this.”

Mikal picked up the bow and bent the upper arm slightly, wincing at the sound of the tearing wood. He held out the open break for Rian’s inspection. “I’m aware of that. You don’t understand. I can make repairs to the wood myself. But I do need your help with this.”

* * *

Rian leaned forward and caught his breath in shock. Running through the body of the bow were tens, maybe hundreds, of tiny silver threads. They seemed almost to be part of the wood itself, they were so finely embedded in the grain. Reaching out with his mind, he felt an answering thrum of power from the silver filaments, distorted by the damage where the break tore through the network. This time, when he looked up at Mikal, his eyes were full of wonder. “I thought it was impossible to do such fine work in wood. Even seeing it with my own eyes, I can’t imagine how it was done.” He chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “Living things resist all but the most powerful magic, and so wood and leather can’t be used to make magic artifacts. We even use wood shavings to insulate ourselves from our work, just because of that property.” He indicated the sawdust still clinging to his hands. “Anyway, that’s obviously why the metal had to be placed into the wood, so that there would be something that would receive the spell that was laid over the bow.”

Mikal broke into his train of thought. “It improved my eyes and my aim, and made it easier to stay hidden when I hunted.” Relaxing the bow again, he laid it down on the counter between them. Choosing his words carefully, he said, “If I left the bow with you for a while, do you think you could make out the way the threads used to lie and repair them so that the bow would work again?”

Rian laughed. “Maybe I could, though it might take a few weeks. But even if I reconstruct the network and shape it back into order, it would just be broken again when you manipulate the wood shell. And if I wait until after you make repairs, the intact wood would shield the network within from my attempts to mold it back into shape. No, I’m afraid it can’t be done.”

* * *

Mikal stared at Rian appraisingly. “Suppose there could be way for the wood to be repaired without disturbing the metal threads after you mold them back into shape?”

Rian frowned blankly at Mikal. “The threads in this artifact are amazingly intricate. How would you fill the gaps between them without destroying the structure? You can’t just pour wood like mortar.”

“You can mold metal like it was liquid. Suppose there was a way to do the same for wood?” He held up his hand against Rian’s protests. “Think about it. There has to be a way, otherwise how could the threads have been put into the wood in the first place? You can see that there isn’t any space between the wood and the metal.” Mikal grinned innocently, though he knew this was going to be the most dangerous part of the negotiation. Nothing for it, but to plunge ahead. He leaned close to Rian. “Now, suppose I knew how it was done.”

Rian jerked back, angrily. “Pure fantasy. You can’t work wood with magic. It’s axiomatic. I don’t know what your game is, but I’m not playing it.” He turned around, and walked back to the door to his workroom. “You can see yourself out, I think…” He stopped, one hand already pulling back the curtain.

Mikal had his hands on the bow near the end of the crack. His eyes were closed and his forehead was creased in concentration. Suddenly, the edges of the crack drew together and sealed. Rian could almost hear the scrape of the wood fibers knitting themselves back together. The end of the crack drew back an inch, then another, leaving behind new wood that indistinguishable from the unbroken surface of the rest of the bow.

Mikal opened his eyes, and let out a deep breath. He took his hands away from the bow, and turned to look expectantly at Rian, standing frozen by the inner door.

Rian walked back silently to stand before Mikal, never taking his eyes off the two inches of restored wood. He reached out his fingers to touch the place where the jagged break had retreated. “How did you do that?”

“It’s a secret. But I would be glad to share it, if you help me.” For all the good it’ll do you. He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

* * *

Rian shook his head ruefully. “That’s all you want? Your bow fixed? Working wood will revolutionize the world. Any magician would kill for such knowledge, and you’re giving it away.”

Mikal gave him a sour look. “It’s not by choice, magician. I need your help, otherwise the bow is useless to me.” He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Rian took Mikal’s hand. “Deal. I don’t know why you’re selling your secret so cheap, but I won’t argue with you.”

Mikal rolled the bow back up in its bundle of cloth. “Then I’ll leave this with you, for you to study. I’ll be back in three weeks to see if you’ve had any luck making sense of the network.”

Rian took the bundle dubiously. “I’m surprised you’re willing to part with it, even for a little while. If it was made with the same magic that you just demonstrated, it must be almost as valuable as the knowledge of making it.”

Mikal pulled on his jacket as he stepped to the door. “To me it is. But I don’t think you’d endanger your chance to learn how it was made just to sell off a broken artifact, even one as unique as this.”

“I’ll see what I can do with it.” He looked at Mikal curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking, where did you get the bow? You couldn’t have made it yourself, or you wouldn’t need me to help you.”

Mikal paused for a moment before answering. “It was a gift from my father.” Then he opened the door and left.

Rian stood there a while, running his fingers over the cloth bundle, as the sound of the door chime faded into silence. His mind raced. A new form of magic! If I present the Magery with a completely original area of study, they’ll have to grant me tenure! Father might finally accept that this is the path I was born to walk. He tried to remain calm. Don’t get ahead of yourself. You know nothing about this man but his name, and only a fool would give out his true name to a stranger with this much as stake. Clasping the bow tightly, he walked back into his workshop. One way or another, I need to learn the secret. And that will be my ticket home.

***

What an idiot. Imperials can’t do something, so it’s impossible. Mikal turned up the collar of his jacket against the cold drizzle, as he made his way out of town. Well, that could have gone worse. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“Be cautious,” said a voice in the back of his mind. “We did not send you to him lightly. With luck the two of you will be able to reach a satisfactory arrangement.”

“Hopefully, he’ll finish the work before he realizes that my magic is going to be of no use to him,” he thought. “Do you think I can trust this magician with the bow? You know how these Imperials are.”

“We know this wizard. We have seen him in the Ambassador’s Grove. He is a scholar. The lure of new knowledge will keep him in check for a while. Beyond that, you shouldn’t make assumptions. You have almost as much Imperial blood as he does.”

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m one of them,” he thought back. “They came here to conquer us and plunder our lands.”

“It’s true, as a people, they are your enemies. But individually, they have their good qualities. When your father joined us, it was quite educational.”

“Yeah, he was always full of surprises.” His thoughts were grudgingly respectful.

The voice paused reflectively. “Both he and your brother have often asked us about you.”

“And what’d you tell them?”

“Only that you wanted privacy, and did not wish contact.”

Mikal pulled his jacket tighter against the increasing downpour. “Thank you for small favors. Now if you’d just told me those rocks were unstable, maybe I wouldn’t have fallen on the damn bow in the first place.”

“You whine too much, even for a human. Be happy that we are helping you repair your blunder.”

Mikal smiled at the voice’s annoyance. “You said you knew this wizard. He seems too young to have the kind of skill he’s going to need to cast the right spells.”

“Rian has talent and training in abundance. The magic of these invaders is cold and lifeless, but we think he can force it to serve your purposes. Afterwards, though, he may not be pleased when he finds out the secret of your abilities will not be as useful to him as he imagines.”

“Any ideas on how I should handle that part?”

“We think you should act in good faith, and tell him the truth.” The voice seemed faintly amused. “You might even survive.”

“Wonderful.”

“We are curious why you used your brother’s name.”

Mikal had been wondering about that himself. “I don’t know. I thought using my own name might not be a good idea. After all, I don’t know anything about this guy. At the time, Jasra’s name just came to mind. I don’t think it will cause any problems for him, even if this turns out badly. He never comes into Imperial territory anyway.”

“You also admitted that the bow came from your father. Was that another impulsive decision?”

“I guess so. There didn’t seem any reason to lie about it.”

“Your family seems to be in your thoughts a great deal lately. Have you considered going back to see them eventually?”

“No,” he said, out loud, ignoring the curious looks of passersby. Then, to himself, he continued. “I can’t go back. There’s been too much grief between us. Besides, I’m used to living my life alone now. I wouldn’t know how to be part of a family anymore.”

“As you wish. But we wonder if you would find that separation so easy if they weren’t a hundred stads away.”

There was really nothing to say to that, so Mikal walked the rest of the way in silence as he joined the sparse line of pedestrians leaving the city, just another traveler too poor to buy a ticket on an air transport. As the Imperial Highway entered the forest, however, he stepped off the stone and metal road, and disappeared into the shadows.

Chapter 2

(c) 2013 by Arshad Ahsanuddin

Mithia’s Accord wasn’t anything special. There were only two or three of the fluted alabaster towers that were so prevalent in Imperial architecture, each one a triumph of mystical construction, glowing softly in the evening gloom. The rest of the buildings hugged the ground by comparison, only four or five stories for the most part, predominantly made of purely mundane stone and steel. The ramshackle buildings at the outskirts of the city were made of rough-hewn wooden beams, the homes of those too poor or too ungifted to benefit from the advances in magical technology of the last several decades, an era that the wizards had dubbed the Age of Miracles.

Mikal had been discreetly canvassing the city for the last week, trying to find a practitioner of sufficient skill to help him, but lacking the strong connections to the Magery that would raise questions and possibly result in his arrest. Mikal had heard stories of a solitary magician without official ties, living in these rude dwellings at the edge of Imperial notice, but the locals were reluctant to speak of him. Are they afraid of him, or afraid of me, and loyal enough to misdirect me?

He was jerked out of his musings when a woman screamed, seeming only a few steps behind him. He spun in place and saw a woman in a nondescript brown cloak pointing toward him across the busy street that lay between them. Mikal tensed, thinking he had been discovered, but then saw her attention was focused solely on the small boy that stood frozen in the center of the lane. The child stared with eyes wide at the air sled that skimmed a few inches above the ground as it barreled toward him. Mikal could see the operator’s head as it turned to face the screaming woman, the driver’s gaze shifting away from the road to try and pick out the source of the commotion.

Mikal was already running before the realization had even fully formed in his mind that the vehicle was too close to the child, and moving too fast to stop even if the distracted driver noticed the boy directly in his path. He sprinted across the busy street, and grabbed the boy around the waist without slackening his pace, just as the driver threw on his magnetic brakes with a squeal, finally realizing the danger. Mikal and the boy tumbled to the stone sidewalk, while the sled screeched to a halt, locked to the metal surface of the road directly behind them.

Mikal got shakily to his feet as the boy wriggled out of his arms and ran to the waiting embrace of the woman in the brown cloak. The woman faced him with tears in her eyes. “Oh, thank you, sir! You are truly a hero.”

Mikal glanced over his shoulder at the grounded air sled blocking traffic, and saw two women in the red and black uniform of Imperial Security step out of the crowd to berate the shaken driver. He turned back to the woman. “I have to go. Is he injured?”

The woman stared at him in confusion. “Go? But, my lord, you saved my son’s life! Surely you must desire some reward?”

Mikal looked back at the air sled and saw one of the security officers turn to face him, following the pointing finger of the driver as he argued with the other officer. Mikal snapped his head around to break eye contact. “I am a healer, Lady. I was glad to be in a position to help.” He looked closely at the boy, and saw the scraped flesh of his cheek. “Wash the wounds with soap and water, and cover them with a clean dressing to prevent scarring. If I had time, I’d make you a salve to help, but…”

The woman looked past him toward the security officers, and nodded. “Do you have lodgings in the city, my lord? I could give a statement to Security in your place, if you have…pressing business elsewhere.”

Mikal heard the delicate pause in her words, and realized that his aversion to Imperial scrutiny has obviously been noticed. I should leave. Now. Before they come for me. He caught sight of the bright red drops of blood beading on the boy’s face, and made a choice. “Come by in an hour and I will check the dressing and tend to the wound if necessary. I’m staying at an inn called the Spiral Ladder.”

“I know it,” she said softly. She faced the street. “They are coming.”

Mikal walked briskly away without another word, ignoring the shouts of the security officers, and lost himself in the crowd.

* * *

Mikal sat at one of the tables in the common room of his inn. It was named after some great medical discovery that had been made a few years prior, relating to the base mechanisms of life. Mikal had resisted the urge to sneer when the Innkeeper had narrated the story the first night. It’s not enough that they bury the land beneath their cities of metal and rock, but now they wish to turn the keys of inheritance itself and warp the development of living beings to their own design. Do these people every tire of perverting the natural order?

The woman he had met on the street entered the inn, her son in tow, the boy sporting a white cloth bandage on his left cheek, held in place by adhesive strips. Her gaze met Mikal’s, and made her way to his table. She lifted the boy into a chair, and then took a seat. They regarded each other silently. Then Mikal placed a small ceramic jar on the table. “Change the bandage once a day, and cover the wounds with a thin film of this salve. It will ward off infection and help the wound to heal cleanly.”

She looked down at the jar, but didn’t take it. “You said you are a healer?”

“I was, once.”

“And what happened?”

Mikal drummed his fingers on the table. “I drew the attention of the Empire.”

She picked up the jar and slipped in into her pocket. “Imperial Security has your description. They will be looking for you, to find out why you left the scene. If you have business in the city, I suggest you conclude it and leave. This place is not safe for you.”

Mikal cursed softly. “Lady, do you know of a magician residing in the outskirts nearby? I have been trying to find him, but no one will tell me where he lives.”

She frowned. “Why do you want to find him?”

“I want to hire him.”

She stood from the chair, and pulled her son to his feet. “Few of us can afford the services of a wizard. The one you seek tends to the needs of the weak and the poor, and asks little in return except for privacy.”

Mikal sighed. “Then you won’t help me?”

She glanced at her son, then looked back at Mikal. “The street of metalworkers, number sixteen. He works late, so if you go now, you might be able to speak to him before he closes his doors.”

I asked them to do the same for Starlight, since the most recent edition incorporates the novella, The Best of Times. I have my fingers crossed but I’ll keep after them.  Owners of previous editions of Sunrise who wish to download the new edition can go to Amazon and select My Account > Manage Your Kindle and click on the update link next to the title in their kindle library.  Enjoy!

So without further ado, let’s get started:

The First Age (The Red Wind: Book One)

(c) 2013 by Arshad Ahsanuddin

Chapter 1

Mikal chose his steps with care on the rain-slicked rocks above the steep gorge. He pulled his green leather jacket tighter to keep out the cold drizzle. One last barrier ward to verify and then I can go home to something hot by the fire. Why did I ever want this job anyway?

“You did volunteer,” said the voice in his head.

Mikal shrugged. “I wanted to do my part, I guess, and keep the Empire from encroaching on the Heartwoods. I just didn’t realize being a border warden would be so much damn work.”

“You are the first line of defense between our land and theirs. Don’t underestimate your importance. You know how destructive they can be if they decide they want something from you.”

Mikal drew up short, and stood perfectly still, his mother’s face flashing into his mind. “Yes, I do.”

The voice apparently saw it, too. “Hatred can be hot enough to temper your spirit and make you stronger, Mikal. But it can also burn you to a cinder, if you let it.”

Mikal snorted and he was just framing his reply, when the ground shifted abruptly under his feet. Off balance, he grabbed for a low hanging branch from one of the scrub trees at the edge of the gorge.

He missed.

Unable to regain his footing, he pitched forward and tumbled off the precipice into the open air below.

* * *

It was a good dream, as dreams went, but Mikal wasn’t fooled. He watched his father and mother laugh together at a private joke. His younger brother Jasra doled out mulled wine to the other guests at the party, pausing occasionally to take a sip for himself when their mother wasn’t paying attention. Mikal smiled woodenly as family friends and well-wishers came forward to congratulate him.

He was twenty years old today. A milestone, by any measure. He wanted to join into the laughter that surrounded him, a celebration of his life and a prayer for good fortune on the road ahead. He wished he could let himself go and fly upon the winds of the good cheer and revelry, but something tethered him to the earth, a deep misgiving he couldn’t name. Something was wrong with this picture, but what?

Then his mother took up her harp and ran her fingers expertly across the strings, picking out a sparse but elegant melody as she raised her voice in song. It was an old tune, a ballad of the West from long before the war, lofty in sentiment, but bittersweet in light of everything that came after.

Mikal’s heart beat louder as he gazed at her, overwhelmed with how much he loved her, loved his brother and his father, loved that they were all together and happy. It was perfect.

Which is how he knew it wasn’t real.

* * *

Mikal woke, the dream slipping away in tatters of regret. He squeezed his eyes closed against the throbbing pain in his left temple, then finally squinted out of one eye to get a sense of his surroundings. He was lying in a narrow gulley below a wall of broken stone to his left. He tried to move slowly, and his limbs obeyed him, although sluggishly. The pain across his left side remained dull, suggesting that he didn’t have any broken bones, but he’d be feeling the bruises for a few weeks.

Struggling to his feet, he glared at the sky, blinking away the droplets of water as it began to rain in earnest. He fastened his jacket against the wetness, but he was already soaked through. He would need to get warm, and soon, or he’d have a serious problem in the cold autumn weather. He reached automatically over his left shoulder for the oiled canvas wrap to shield his bow from the elements, then went abruptly still when his hand failed to connect with anything.

Eyes wide, he glanced around his surroundings again, trying to see where it had landed. He couldn’t have lost the bow. It’s all I have left.

He tried to remember if he’d let go of it when the ground of the game trail above him had given way. Maybe it’s still up top. He gauged the distance he’d fallen. It wasn’t too bad a climb, if he could get enough purchase on the slippery granite. He took one step toward the wall, then stopped when he heard a sharp crack. Lifting his foot, he found a long fragment of broken wood. Heartwood yew, definitely not local to this area. He immediately dropped to his knees and shifted the sodden leaves from where he had lain, to find his treasured hunting bow lying on the ground where he had apparently landed upon it, the braided steel string hanging loose from the upper span, which was bent into an acute angle, the fractured wood sharp against his questing fingers.

For a moment, he just sat there, overcome with grief. It was too much. After everything he had lost and given away, to lose this last reminder of who he had been was a devastating blow.

The rain had slackened, but new tears kept his face wet. He slowly gathered the broken pieces together and wrapped them in the canvas cover that lay in the dirt next to him. Then he got to his feet, clutching the fragments of his past to his chest, and reached out with his mind. “Help me.”

The familiar voice answered immediately, a soft rustle at the back of his mind. “The damage is too extensive for you repair on your own. You’ll need assistance, if you can stomach your hatred long enough to seek it out.”

Mikal’s lip curled in distaste as he understood. “Just tell me where to go.”

“You know where.”

Mikal turned to face the east, toward the nearest settlement.

Toward the Empire.

I’m going to regret this.

He squared his shoulders, and began to walk.

The Integrated Serial Edition is an alternate version of the text of all five Pact Arcanum books, which has been spliced together scene-by-scene, and sometimes line-by-line, into a chronological narrative. There are no parallel/duplicate storylines or flashbacks in this version, only a linear storyline from beginning to end. The resulting text has been broken down by section heading into 12 parts, each approximately 25,000 to 45,000 words in length, or between roughly 100 and 200 pages long. The purpose of creating this edition was to eliminate some levels of complexity, in order to make the text more accessible to readers desiring lighter entertainment.

Then again, it’s vampire space opera, so how much lighter could it be? 

Respectfully,

Arshad Ahsanuddin

Let’s dive right in!

Q. Tell us a little bit about your book.

“Only A Glow” starts the journey of Azrel, Rabryn, and Ortheldo across their land in hopes to save it from another age of the evil Shadow God’s rule. Azrel’s journey however, isn’t just across the land she lives in, but it’s a journey of healing and self-discovery that she needs to take. It’s a journey of accepting who she is and to do something great with it.

The end of the book isn’t just about whether she wins or loses the battle to save her world (though that’s still a huge part), but also to see if she can overcome her own self-hatred and become everything she was born to be, or if she will fail and destroy herself, and the world with her. It’s also interesting to see how she overcomes some obstacles and how she often fails at overcoming others.

Q. What excites you most about your book’s topic? Why did you choose it?

It’s a strange thing really. I didn’t pick the Fantasy genre; it sort of picked me. I think what I love the most about the fantasy genre is that anything can happen. With other genres you often have to stick to the rules of reality. But with fantasy, things happen that don’t happen in real life.

Q. How long did the book take you from start to finish?

The entire 7 book series took me 2 years to write from when I was 19 until I was 21 years old. Believe it or not, I actually wrote it freehand in 27 five-subject notebooks, filled to the brim.

Q. Did you seek the support of a writer’s group or class?

I did not. When I started writing this series I wasn’t considering a novelist as a career option. I just wrote because it was fun and I was bored. I would love to join local writing classes if there were any, but so far I haven’t found one. I’m dying to do writing workshops and the like because there is always room for improvement in a novelist’s career. I just haven’t found anything in my area.

Q. What surprised you the most about the book writing process?

Nothing really surprised me about the book writing process but I did have a few surprises happen along the way as I wrote. I’ll answer what kind of surprise in the next question because the craziest thing that happened while writing the series was also my favorite thing to happen.

Q. Did you have any favorite experiences when writing your book?

There was one instance where I wanted my story to go somewhere, but even as I was writing out what I wanted to happen, there was the nagging feeling of having something else happen that I had absolutely no intention of making happen. I actually got mad at one of my characters once because it felt like he was prodding me to make this other thing happen that I didn’t want to happen. When I finally did give in to the nagging (after writing almost a whole chapter), I realized later in the book the reason for that nagging. What ended up happening had to happen for the sake of the plot later on down the line. What was weird about it was that I hadn’t even planned the end of the book yet. I didn’t know that this plot twist was going to happen down the line that absolutely depended on my giving into the nagging voice of my character. I wasn’t so mad at him after that.

Q. What tips would you offer to anyone writing fiction for the first time?

Have fun with it. Don’t make it a job. Don’t expect success right off the bat. I wouldn’t even recommend writing to try and become successful. Write because you enjoy writing and can’t ever imagine not writing.

Q. How did you come up with your title?

Each of my book titles is a description of the place Azrel is in her journey. Because Azrel wields white fire magic, the titles are centered on fire. The state of the fire in the title is a statement of where Azrel is in her journey (Book #1, Only a Glow. Book #2, The Blaze Ignites. Book #3, Steady Burn. Book #4, Doused. Book #5, Embers Under the Ash. Book #6, Commanding the Fire. Book #7, Fire of the World). Only a Glow refers to the fact that my main character Azrel is just beginning her journey, but she hasn’t made any significant personal or war triumphs yet, so she’s Only A Glow of the Fire of the World warrior she was born to be.

Q. What books have influenced you the most?

All of the authors I have read could be considered influential to me. They have shown me what I like and what I don’t like in stories. I see what works and what doesn’t and see what gets annoying and what gets exciting. If I like a book I read it translates into my own writing. If I don’t like a book I read, I know what I don’t want in my writing. I think all authors impact each other more than they really realize. Some of my favorite writers include, J.R.R Tolkien, Terry Goodkind, Brandon Sanderson, Rick Riordan, Brandon Mull, R. A. Salvatore, Stephanie Meyer, Iris Johansen, and Mercedes Lackey.

Q. What projects are you currently working on?

I’m currently working on getting book #3 in The White Warrior series titled “Steady Burn” done for a tentative July 2013 release. After that I still have four more books on the way out in this series.

Q. What can we look forward to in your next book?

There is a lot of action and a lot of personal victories won for Azrel in “Steady Burn,” as well as some interesting secrets revealed. It’s my favorite book in the series! Azrel just kicks tail in this one!

Well, that’s all the time we have. Thanks for coming in!

Nichelle Rae was born and raised in Massachusetts. Her love for writing began when she was 14 years old and she wrote short stories about meeting her favorite music group at that age. She received so much praise and complements on her writing ability that it quickly became a passion of hers. Throughout the years she has gotten much praise from peers, professors, and professional author’s she’s had a chance to work with about her writing and her ability to put emotions into text.

The White Warrior Series is her debut fantasy series she’s publishing as an independent author which will consist of seven books total. Nichelle already has begun three more fantasy series that she hopes to publish in the future after The White Warrior Series.

Link To Book on Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/Only-Glow-White-Warrior-ebook/dp/B009MN5QI2/

BOOK TRAILER LINK

http://vimeo.com/51313772

CONTACT INFO

Facebook: www.facebook.com/TheWhiteWarriorSeries

Twitter: @Nichelle_Writes

Website: www.thewhitewarriorseries.com

Goodreads: Nichelle Rae

Respectfully,

Arshad Ahsanuddin

To celebrate, I am pleased to announce that the Pact Arcanum Integrated Serial Edition is complete and uploaded to the Amazon kindle store. Other distribution platforms to follow. All 12 parts should be available by tomorrow afternoon.

Those of you who have been searching for a completed, cross-genre, urban fantasy/science fiction/gay paranormal romance series, feel free to dive right in with Nightfall (PAISE #1).

And I totally didn’t realize the acronym for the series would be the same name as a low denomination Indian coin. Huh. That should make my Mom happy.

About the Serial Edition

The Integrated Serial Edition is an alternate version of the text of all five Pact Arcanum books, which has been spliced together scene-by-scene, and sometimes line-by-line, into a chronological narrative. There are no parallel/duplicate storylines or flashbacks in this version, only a linear storyline from beginning to end. The resulting text has been broken down by section heading into 12 parts, each approximately 25,000 to 45,000 words in length, or between roughly 100 and 200 pages long. The purpose of creating this edition was to eliminate some levels of complexity, in order to make the text more accessible to casual readers. I hope you find it to your liking.

Respectfully,

Arshad Ahsanuddin

One of the most common complaints I have seen regarding my books is the fact that the timeline is too complex: the story starts in the middle, jumps forward and backward in time, and multiple storylines happen simultaneously. So, as an experiment, I went through the text of all five books and redesigned it, scene by scene, into a linear narrative. That is to say, there are no flashbacks or parallel plotlines in this version, only a single story told in chronological order.

The only problem is that the integrated storyline is over 413,000 words in length. By comparison, a standard length novel is on the order of 40,000 to 70,000 words in length. Therefore, as a second experiment, I am considering publishing this version of the story in serialized format, each part an average of around 30,000 words in length (actual length ranges from 22,000 to 48,000). It goes without saying that each serialized part is not meant to stand alone, but will instead represent a miniature story arc, meant to be placed in context within the larger work.  It may be that readers will prefer the standard novel formats, but I thought I would offer this serialized format as a more bite-sized alternative, to see if readers find it easier to swallow.

What do you think? Would that be something you’d be interested in reading?

As always, feel free to comment here, or to contact me through the CONTACT page at http://pactarcanum.com/contact if you have comments or feedback.

Respectfully submitted,

Arshad Ahsanuddin

After much delay, the Sunset (Pact Arcanum: Book 1) audiobook is out, joining the audiobooks for Cathedral of the Sky (Book 1.5) and Sunrise (Book 2).  They can be purchased at Amazon.com, Audible.com, and iTunes.

The hardback editions of all five Pact Arcanum book remain on sale at Lulu.com.

My commitment to the Amazon KDP Select program ends on March 20th, so the Pact Arcanum ebooks should be available on additional platforms other than Amazon.com shortly after that date, including the iBookstore, Barnesandnoble.com, Kobo.com, Smashwords.com, and Allromanceebooks.com.

That’s all the news about the Pact Arcanum saga until I get around to recording the audiobooks for Moonlight and Starlight.

Enjoy!

Respectfully,

Arshad Ahsanuddin

The new hardback editions are up and running after a few final tweaks.  You can find them at http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/pactarcanum.  The Audible audiobook versions of Cathedral of Sky (Book 1.5) and Sunrise (Book 2) are up and running on iTunes, Amazon, and Audible.com.  You can find them at http://pactarcanum.com/Cathedral-Audiobook.htm and http://pactarcanum.com/Sunrise-Audiobook.htm, respectively.

The Sunset (Book 1) audiobook is complete, but is held up from distribution due to a technical issue beyond my control.  I will update you as soon as I have a final distribution date.

Thanks for your support!

Respectfully,

Arshad Ahsanuddin