About the Book
Title: The Stones of Caron
Author: R. Ann. Greene
Genre: Fantasy
Earia, queen of the elves, has long fought against
an enemy she believed she created: a man, Niren, who she raised as her son,
over four hundred years ago and he will see every man, elf, and dwarf killed
unless they bend a knee to him. The dragons already have, willing or not, and
Earia is forced to fight them as well as Niren’s soldiers.
Fillip is a seventeen year old, raised in the woods and seashores of the small
country of Niss, and he has managed to find the one thing which can give the
elves hope against Niren and his dragons.
Pursued by assassins, Earia is desperate for Fillip’s help and he is aching for
adventure, even danger. Fillip’s younger brother is not so inclined, but what
is a brother for, if not to help chase monsters and throw down kings?
Earia’s age old companions are quick to accept the youngsters and teach them a
thing or two. Fillip soon discovers that he is not the farmer he thought, but a
bold adventurer, willing to take mighty risks to see the world and to fight for
his new friends.
Author Bio
R. Ann. Greene grew up in Idaho with four siblings. She was
home-schooled all twelve grades and was thirteen when she began writing,
inspired by such fantasies as C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien could weave. She
was a little closer to fifteen when she started working to make writing her
career. It took five more years, endless refining edits, and a lot of will-power
to reach her first publication of The Stones of Caron.
Now, she lives in the Boise Mountains of Idaho and volunteers as a
firefighter in her community. She spends her days writing, blogging, and
splitting firewood to keep the house warm in the winter time, but mostly
writing.
Links
Book Excerpts
Excerpt 1
Fillip flitted from tree to tree, never losing
sight of the pub and sticking to the shadowed side of the trunks. He watched
not only the ground around him and the trunks, but also the boughs of the
trees. It was there he caught his first glimpse of a giant. What caught his eye
was a booted foot which swayed ever so slightly and then stilled.
Quiet
as a mouse, Fillip reached into his coat and drew his knife. He wasn’t sure what
he intended to do with it, but his duty became clear when he moved to a better
angle and the giant was backlit by the front lanterns of the pub. The giant was
drawing on a massive bow and a savage looking arrow was set to fire. Cautious
to avoid stepping on dry twigs, Fillip rushed to the tree and leaped with all
his might to catch hold of the dangling foot. There wasn’t a noise from the
giant as the two landed on the ground, aside from the thump of their bodies.
But Fillip grunted as the air was forced out of his body by the impact of his
less than graceful landing with the giant’s boot in his ribs.
In
spite of the fact that he was breathless, he found the strength to tackle the
figure who was sitting up. He pressed the still bare knife to the giant’s
throat and hissed. “Lie still, I’m not in a bargaining mood.” Fillip was
emboldened by experience dealing with marauding outlaws in previous years.
“I am
no gamester,” the giantess said, for indeed the voice was female and richer than
honey. “I’m just trying to save a few lives.” Her accent was assuredly foreign
and thick.
“While I find myself confounded you speak my language, I am urged to wonder why
such a peculiar person as yourself is lurking outside a public place, preparing
to shoot something.” Fillip was surprised to feel her relax under him as if she
was resigned to his authority . . . as if.
“Some
things,” the giantess corrected. “There are currently two goblins at the
backdoor of the said public building and I am inclined to kill them instead of
letting them take their vengeance out on the innocent men inside. Now if you
don’t mind I would like to get back to my duty. I am not inclined to answer to
a youth.”
“This
blade says you answer to me.” Fillip tightened his grip on her one arm and
pressed the knife a little more firmly to her throat.
Fillip was unaware the giantess had even moved until their positions were
reversed and his own knife was pressing against his Adam’s apple. Her booted,
left, foot pinned his right hand to the ground and her right knee was inside
his jacket, pinning him to the turf but not bearing her weight on him.
Excerpt 2:
Their
muscles burned in effort against the cold water, and the waves slapped them in
the mouth. The chill of the snowmelt was enough to almost paralyze their
bodies, except their willpower refused to let them give up and they never
stopped kicking at the water as it closed its icy hands around them. At last
they reached the other side where the boys could touch the slick bottom. The
bank was slippery and they almost had to be tossed up the muddy slope. Langen
and Earia dug their feet into the steep bank and gripped at clumps of grass and
bushes while guiding the pair up to the dryer grass.
Footing was almost impossible to find for the dwarfs. Using their knees and
lying flat on the ground, they wriggled up the slope to a place more level.
They then lay on their backs, panting and trying to calm their freezing nerves.
The elves walked barefoot up by them and slipped their shoes on. In spite of
the swim, the two didn’t seem affected by the piercing chill, though either of
them would have said differently had the dwarfs asked.
Langen led the way among the thick underbrush and grass out of sight from the
ferry. He led them with obvious knowledge of the path he took, and when they
finally stopped, the dwarfs were thoroughly exhausted.
“Take
a breather. We will stop for five minutes,” Earia said and glanced skyward at
the blackness above them. The moons were hidden entirely and not a star could
be seen anywhere.
Lightening suddenly rent the sky and brightened the dark night for an instant.
The earth seemed to shudder when it was struck and thunder vibrated in the
rocks around them. Every fiber of their bodies quivered and rain poured from
the sky in great sheets.
“Lets
get out of here and up higher. Hurry!” Earia stood with some difficulty in the
already gummy mud. It was an even more challenging task for the leg-weary
dwarfs.
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