21 December 2011

“Farewell to Tyrn” Coming January 15th

Update: “Farewell to Tyrn” is now available for Kindle at Amazon.com, and for other formats at Smashwords.com.

And now, an official announcement regarding my first publication of 2012:

My novelette “Farewell to Tyrn” will be available as a 99¢ ebook in all e-reader formats on January 16. You will be able to purchase it from Amazon for the Kindle, and from Smashwords for all other e-readers.

Feast your eyes on the cover art, from the magnificently talented Fred Jordan, who also illustrated my story “An Acolyte of Black Spires” for Writers of the Future Vol. XXVII.
“Farewell to Tyrn” is a new science-fantasy story set in the continent of Ahn-Tarqa, and is linked to “An Acolyte of Black Spires,” although not a direct sequel to it. It also serves as the prologue to my upcoming novel Turn over the Moon.

This tale of city-set adventure pits twelve-year-old Belde, a girl who makes a startling discovery about her life, and her dinosaur companion Rint against the soldiers and creations of the vile Shapers, the masked sorcerers of Ahn-Tarqa. “Farewell to Tyrn” combines tragedy, action, weird science, and dinosaurs in a thrilling story that further explores the mystery of Ahn-Tarqa and prepares Belde for an even greater adventure.

Here’s a sample from the opening pages:
My last summer in Tyrn, when the Shapers came for me, was the hottest I could remember. Father often told me stories about a summer when he was a boy that was so boiling fishermen could fill a pot from the Glosser River and use it to brew tea without a fire. I used to think Father was teasing me, but that Month of the Sun taught me the truth.

But I didn’t mind the scorching weather. The Month of the Sun was my favorite time of the year because I could play outside with Rint and my friends as much as I wanted, and my parents never remembered what time it was to call me in for supper. When the sun is always in the sky, people don’t think about “dinnertime” or “bedtime.”

I never imagined anything horrible could happen on bright days like that. . . .