OUT NOW on AMAZON BOOKS - "Storm" - Book 10 in the Epic Fantasy Series - "Realms of Kyre"

Sometimes, life seems to be full of Meetings...

There's a storm brewing

Peaking a crest again, he saw the waters wild all around, but not the same fury as earlier glimpses he’d had. ‘Yes! I’m frugging winning! Survived the worst of it. The storm’s abating.’

Except… a chain away… a mighty wall of white-peaked blackness, rising sheer and awesome.

So. This is the one. Either Acionne’s last throw of the bones Or has she upped the stakes and intending to scrugg me now.

Ah well. Mentally rolling up his sleeves, knowing without a shred of doubt that he was going to win this one. Or I’m joining the fighting dead.

The wall closed and towered, and the Wave Ayaan rose, sucked into its underswell. The only remote chance he had of surviving was to keep the boat’s head into the wind and waves. That possibility vanished in the great assault – The Wave Ayaan’s bow was grasped by unseen watery hands; gripped and forced and lifted and hurled around and over.

‘Took ya frugging long enough, eh, Acionne,’ he roared back at the lashing sky, ‘had to pull the stops, out, huh?’

Where lurks the Island Girl?

Two days sailing with a warm zephyric wind and the current following him… easy sailing, water slapping and hissing endlessly; birds swooping and screeching, some very close, landing for a rest or looking for easy food.

One stayed, perched on the bow for an hour or two, mostly staring ahead, sometimes turning in a circle to check that all was well within the Wave Ayaan. Another stayed much longer – and was a very welcome part of Kyre’s diet – in fact, it was the whole of his diet that day. A pleasant, greasy change from raw fish – the bird’s flesh was still warm as he ate the twin breasts, saving the leg and wing flesh for later – and as bait for the back-line.

Overnight, the balmy breeze swung more from the north and brought a crachin drizzle and almost wallowing movement – both side keels full down for stability, and the shelter up. So little forward movement it hardly seemed worthwhile to keep a constant watch for the two miserable days of shivering limbs and gnawing hunger.

The succeeding dawn was late, hidden behind the slowly-lifting greyness and easing swathes of another mizzling shower. And there, barely visible a few dozen chains away, was an island.

‘Jem, I presume?’

It was further away than it looked, taking hours to drift towards it. At least the sun was warm and bright by the time he was within real seeing distance, and there was a chance of beaching the boat and looking for food and drink.

Book 10 in the Epic Fantasy Series "Realms of Kyre"