I giggled when I noticed that Amazon seemed to think Nigh should be categorized in Biographies & Memoirs. I write a convincing faerie-apocalypse, I told myself.
WELL IT'S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE!
Because it might be true.
Nigh 4 has been struck with a string of unfortunate events that slowed down production. Instead of releasing a sub-standard product (gasp!), we'll finish it off right and release it soon.
Obviously the faerie-pocalypse is a thing the faeries don't want you to read about, especially as we're just about to step back into our world in Nigh 4. FEAR NOT! I will bring you all the tips you'll need to survive this calamity! Or I will show you how to die terribly but with some sort of dignity (maybe).
You're welcome.
Thank you for your patience and understanding as we work through this! Keep an eye on my blog for updates and sign up for my Newsletter if you'd like purchasing links sent directly to your inbox (check the right-hand column to sign up).
In the meantime, here's a bit of a preview! FIGHT ON!
“By fairy hands their
knell is rung;
By forms unseen their
dirge is sung.”
-- William Collins, Ode Written in the Year
1746
Up above, the sky shattered.
Like
falling stars, the gray tumbled down around them, shimmering into a light so
bright that Alva’s eyes watered. But still she kept them open and looked
through her tears. This wasn’t something she was willing to miss.
The
falling patches from the sky crumpled and melted into the ground, joining the
purple and green stars below them, swirling together to form a new pattern.
The
world stilled. The stars stopped moving. The tiniest sound, from her breath to
Hector’s coat shifting with his small movement, was amplified tenfold and
echoed, as if they were caught in an endless chamber.
The
floor trembled and Hector’s grip tightened on her hand. The stars from below
swirled up, around them and through them, tiny electric shocks coursing through
her body. The stars exploded, splattering glittered light everywhere.
The
fragment of light set fire to invisible walls, green and purple flames dancing
in a non-existent breeze. Al heard the Pete-Not-Pete cry out in fear behind
her, and she forced herself to keep facing forward.
The
flames grew wider and licked the air around her, but they did not burn her.
“The
veil is fading,” Hector said.
Bits
of flames erupted from the larger columns, floating away as embers, before
burning out, dissipating with the fading light.
As
the flames vanished, night grew in intensity. For one second, as the last
flame burnt out, Alva stood in complete, smothering darkness, and she feared
that this would be her end.
This
was where they would be trapped forever, until they perished slow, agonizing
deaths.
But
then a crack appeared before her. And behind her. Around her, everywhere,
cracks appeared, bright rainbows at first and then gray like a mirror.
The
cracks joined one another, crisscrossing in wild patterns all around them.
And
then the walls shattered.
Alva
felt the ground solidify under her feet. The daylight hurt her eyes, but she
forced herself to look.
And
to see her world as it stood before her.
A
world much the same, yet completely different.
--- to be continued ---
