Alright, I decided to post a brief snippet of my book which isn't telling of the story AT ALL. Please enjoy a sampling of my work. (If nothing else, this will help me get over my fear of people reading this book.)
“Come on you guys,” Nolan said, cheerily, “we’re men. We shouldn’t be afraid of the wind!” At that moment a blood curdling scream, once more accompanied by a gust of wind, flew through the cave. This time, the fire was doused. Nolan stifled a shriek. The last thing Ely saw before complete darkness was the boy jumping into Faythe’s arms.
The cave was pitch black and all that could be heard was the group breathing heavily and the storm crashing around outside. “I’ll get that,” someone whispered and, with a short sigh, the cave lit back up. They were once more crowded around the fire, but with an additional body. An old man with a long nose, sarcastically raised eyebrows and his long silver hair tied back sat down in between Faythe and Narnyo.
Ely cocked his head to one side. “Grandfather?”
“Sir Robert?” Colin nearly shrieked. “Is that really you?” The old man chuckled. Colin shook his head. “No, I saw you dead.” Colin began to laugh hysterically. “In fact, I helped bury you!” A sudden look of terror crossed Colin’s face. “Did I bury you alive?”
Sir Robert gave a loud, full laugh. “No my boy, I’m dead as a doornail.” For some reason Colin looked relieved. Ely wondered if Colin was merely glad he hadn’t buried the old man alive or if he hadn’t realized that this meant they were sitting with a ghost. Ely was speechless. “Come now, kit. Don’t you want to hug your old granddad?” He spread his arms wide open and Ely could not resist the comforting embrace of his grandfather. Dead or not.
Much to Ely’s surprise, Sir Robert felt, looked, smelled, and, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be alive. “You sure this isn’t trickery?” Nolan asked, afraid and skeptical. “I’ve met many of Beylidon’s necromancers and they could bring ‘em back good and life like.”
The old man examined the little boy. “Do I know you from somewhere child?” Nolan shook his head. “I never forget a face. Maybe when you were younger—” he squinted then smiled wide. “Or older!” The child’s eyes nearly bulged from his head. Ely was a little frightened as well. While he was used to his grandfather’s usual nuttiness, this was a little more than usual. “Vigo! I would recognize you anywhere you old goat!”
Nolan leaned away from the, seemingly, crazy old man. “I’m not Vigo.”
Sir Robert cocked an eyebrow. “You sure? Vigo the Protector?”
Narnyo stood up with excitement. Yes, he said, that was the last protector’s name! Vigo Prodst.
Sir Robert smiled. “Ah yes, Vigo died and came back as…” he leaned in to the boy, “what’s your name?”
“Nolan,” he answered. Sir Robert nodded. “So the Protector is actually someone who gets reborn constantly.”
Sir Robert smiled. “Yes, yes. Just like a phoenix,” he said, pointing over to Hera, who sat in a corner, preening. “The rest of us,” the old man continued, “end up here.” He gestured into the darkness of the cave.
“Where is here?” Colin asked, mimicking Sir Robert’s gesture.
“This is the gate to the realm of the dead,” he explained. “Normally we don’t come back over here, other than the occasional haunt, but, I heard the two of you talking and I just had to come see you.”
Ely couldn’t breathe, he was so stunned. He expected to wake up and have this just be a strange dream but he couldn’t. Sir Robert, his wonderful grandfather, was sitting not two feet from him after Ely had seen him killed. Suddenly the pain came rushing back to him and he had to keep from tearing up.
“Then the dead are who keep screaming?” Faythe asked, voice quivering.
“Oh, some of them come here claiming that this is unjust and…well,” Sir Robert laughed, “they’re big babies about it.” Sir Robert smiled charmingly, really seeing Faythe for the first time. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced,” he grabbed her hand and kissed it. “I am Sir Robert Miyosh, founder of the Riders for the People.”
“Co-founder,” Colin laughed, “there were three others.”
Sir Robert glared at Colin, a sight that Ely was familiar with since Colin and Sir Robert were always getting after one another. “Ah but we have met,” Faythe said, smiling, “at least through reputation. Your grandson and Colin have told me much about you. As has a dragon,” she paused. “And my brother.”
Sir Robert smiled. “Well, I am rather famous,” he chuckled.
“I am Faythe Sarant, of Pock.”
Sir Robert looked astonished. “Oh are you?” he examined her. “Yes, you do look very much like your grandmother.” Everyone went silent. “I knew her very well. I even watched her little girl once when she went to—” he paused, clearing his throat, “check on some things.” Ely could tell he was hiding something but didn’t feel it necessary to ask.
“How did you know her?” Faythe asked, quite amazed.
“We met, on our separate travels.” The group stared at the old Rider, not quite believing him. “Actually, that map,” he said, gesturing to the map that lay in Nolan’s lap, “forced us to meet.”