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Hey, everyone,

Chris here, and I’m sitting in an AirBnB in Calgary, Alberta. Mrs. Raymond and I have been up here speaking at a conference related to our day jobs, and with three lectures and a shit-ton of conversations behind us, we’re ready for a little R&R.

We’ve never been to Calgary before, and it is a cool city.

I used to walk around cities just taking it all in. Since I’ve been writing fiction for a few years, I see new places differently. I wonder how a character might see it, how they might move in the street, what kind of trouble they could get in down that dark alley!

It’s been a fun trip, but I’m also REALLY looking forward to book 4 landing. I’d say this is like nothing we’ve done before. It has a different design and rhythm… what’s the same though? Revolution is a hell of a lot of fun!

So, here’s another snippet to hold you over until the release, which is coming REALLY soon.

Cheers,

CM

 

 

Revolution: Snippet 2

[Unedited]

Chapter 1

 

Heavy rain fell across the old glass windows, waking Hannah from her already restless slumber. Shooting up in her bed, her mind swam with images from her dream—or rather her nightmare. It had been the same every night for a week. The airship hovered over the Boulevard, bringing down hellfire on the place she had once called home. Standing helplessly on a hill overlooking the city, she watched her people die.

Body covered in cold sweat, she had to remind herself, like each day before, that the dream had really happened—although most of her people escaped. But that didn’t stop her from reliving it each night—a bitter memory that haunted her.

Throwing her legs over the side of her bed, she looked down at Sal still happily snoring on the floor beside her. The dragon was nearly as long as the bed and weighed twice as much. Despite his size, he had more room here in the tower—although he spent a good deal of time stretching his wings outside. There was no longer any reason for him to hide who he was.

She got up and paced across the room. It was the same that she had occupied when she and Ezekiel had lived there before not even a year ago. Those months felt like a different lifetime. Unlike before, the room was no longer her own. Two other beds lined the walls, but they were empty and made up with blankets pulled tight. Julianne and Amelia were already gone—as they were every morning. Their diligence in leading the tower filled with Arcadian rebels was inspiring, but Hannah needed her rest. Parts of her body still ached from her fight against Alexandra in the factory.

Pulling on her white, mended shirt and leather corset, she was pleased to feel a little bit more like the girl from the Boulevard. Too many days were spent masquerading as Deborah, the proper noblewoman, and she was glad to be Hannah once again. Of all the things that died that night, Hannah was glad that Deborah was one of them.

“Come on, you lug. Get up,” she called to Sal.

The dragon lay motionless, save his steady breathing. He opened one eye, saw Hannah standing over him, and then closed it quickly.

She couldn’t help but laugh and give him a little kick to the ribs. “I know you’re awake. Now, get your lazy ass up. Let’s go find some food.”

At the mention of breakfast, the dragon hopped up onto all fours and beat Hannah to the door. He sat, his enormous tail swiping back and forth while his eyes stayed on his master.

“You need to get control of that thing,” she said, pointing at his long meaty tail with its barbed end. “Gonna freaking kill someone with it if you’re not careful.”

Sal rubbed his head against her leg. Reaching down, Hannah gave him a scratch under the chin. “Good things today, Sal. It’s time to start planning the revolution.”

****

Hannah and Sal walked the long corridor toward the Great Hall, which had been arranged as an enormous gathering place. The tower was already buzzing with life, and people tripped over themselves to get out of the way of the girl and her dragon.

In all, nearly two hundred Arcadians had fled the city the night the Boulevard burned. Parker and Julianne lead them to their new home in the woods. While the majority of the community were people from the Boulevard, there were certainly middle-class folks—largely business owners from the market—and a few dozen nobles mixed in as well.

Over that first week, the new community spent their hours getting acquainted with each other, and healing from the shock of Adrien’s violence. Many had taken part in the melee on the streets of Queen’s Boulevard, and more than a few came to the tower with a significant injury. The refugees now filled the once abandoned tower almost to the breaking point.

Ezekiel had told her the building was once called a skyscraper, and though there were only eight floors remaining, she could imagine it reaching up into the heavens in the days before the Age of Madness—before the old world came to an end. Some of the rooms were being used for planning and training, but most—including the ones that Ezekiel had trained Hannah in—had been converted into bunkhouses. A small group of carpenters was working around the clock, hammering together makeshift beds, and working to accommodate the people.

Everyone had a gift, and all would be used before too long.

Sal curled up under a table that had become their normal spot during meal times as Hannah got in line to get food. She glanced back at the dragon and smiled. If Sal kept growing, he’d have to become a better hunter. The rations that Eleanor, Maddie, and the others had saved from the city were quickly dwindling, and soon, eyes would turn to the gentle dragon for meat. Hannah would die before Sal became steaks.

A gruff voice ahead in the line interrupted her meanderings about Sal’s culinary use. “Dammit, you can’t just cut into line like that. Get to the end like everybody else.”

The man raising his voice had a harsh face to match his tone. The object of his ire was a nobleman, a few inches shorter and half as wide.

Face turning red, the nobleman raised his hands in defense. “No, no. I was here. Just had to see to my wife for a second, she’s not well.”

“Here? You were here? I sure as shit didn’t see you here. How about you—” the man nodded to another new resident of the tower “—you see this tight ass nobleman in line right there?”

The third party turned away from the disagreement, trying his best to stay out of trouble.

“Shit,” the gruff man said. “Just get to the end of the line.”

“How dare you speak to me like that? I’m sure you’re used to barking like a dog in the streets, but I deserve some bloody respect, you bastard.”

Hannah scanned the room, looking for her friends. None of them were there. She left the line and approached the men. “Cool it.” Turning from the nobleman to the man from the Boulevard, she said, “Who cares who was here first? There’s enough food for us all.”

The gruff man spun to face Hannah. “The hell there is. Can’t be much of anything left, but I’ll be damned if I let some prick from the Quarter eat while I starve. And who the hell are you, thinking you can tell me anything about anything?”

A tiny smile spread across Hannah’s face. Naturally, she thought everyone in the tower knew exactly who she was: Hannah from the Boulevard—the Witch Bitch that saved them all from their misery under the thumb of Adrien the Dickweed. But it seemed like this man needed a lesson.

The man looked at Hannah and then back at the noble. “She belong to you?”

In silence, the noble looked at his feet.

“Scheisse, I’ll tell you who she is,” a deep, gravelly voice said. “That’s Hannah, the one that saved your pathetic, ungrateful ass from being fried like a pork chop. So, ye better start respectin’ her.”

Hannah and the man both spun to see Karl, the rearick, standing with his war hammer resting on his shoulder.

“But if ya have a problem with that, ya little twat, we could step outside and straighten it out, if ya like,” Karl snorted, looking up at the man.

The man’s eyes cut back to Hannah. “You’re… her?” he stammered.

“In the flesh and blood,” Hannah said with a grin.

His lip trembled, and he looked back at the rearick’s hammer. “Shit… I’m so…”

Hannah held up a hand. “Listen. The tower’s getting tight these days. Go get your food and cool off.”

The man nodded.

“But give any more shit to anyone, and I’ll introduce you to my dragon.” She nodded over to Sal and watched the man’s face freeze. “Understand?”

He nodded, but his eyes were cast downward.

“Good,” she smiled. “We’re all in this together. Things are getting tough; they’ll only get tougher. If we start tearing each other to shreds, that bastard back in our home has already won.”

The man turned back in the line and tried to pretend nothing had happened.

“Thanks,” Hannah whispered to Karl.

“Just another boar I saved ya from, lass. Now, let’s get our grub and have a seat!”

With their plates half as full as they should have been, Hannah and Karl made their way to a table in the corner of the great room where Sal had already taken up residence under the table. Hannah kicked her feet up on her beast and took in the room. The first few days after the victory, people were alive with the rush of winning the day, but that energy had faded. They had begun to fear their decision to follow the magician and her crew out to the tower.

Even some of the folk from the Boulevard grumbled, “Why have you led us out of Arcadia? Life was better there.”

She knew that was a lie. She knew that they had already forgotten the taste of Adrien’s oppression. And she knew that they would need to eat and train if they were going to take back the city.

Eleanor sat across from them, with her own sparse bit of food. She stared at it for a moment in a prayer of gratitude to the Matriarch and the Patriarch. She finally looked up at Karl and Hannah, smiled, and stabbed one of her few cubes of potatoes with her fork. As the one assigned to rations, Eleanor had taken it upon herself to eat less than anyone else. It was a job Hannah did not envy, but she knew Eleanor was up to the task.

“People are getting restless,” the rearick said as if he had been reading Hannah’s mind. “I’ve seen it before. If we don’t get them moving, and soon, they’ll start turning on each other. Hell, they’ll turn on us.”

Hannah nodded. “You’re right about that. Saw a little glimpse of the future with those jagoffs in line. What do you have in mind?”

Karl snorted. “Simple. They’re supposed to be a damned army, right? Time we start treating ‘em like one. Set ‘em to training. Set their eyes on kicking ass and getting home, and they’ll forget their empty bellies. Make discipline their food, and victory their only hope.”

Eleanor looked up from her plate, which was nearly empty. “I didn’t know you were a poet, Karl, and a bad one at that. You can’t build an army without food. Our people from the Boulevard know hunger, but it can only go so far. With winter still upon us, there’s precious little to forage in the woods. These people had little to begin with, and what they managed to carry with them has already been burned through. If everyone keeps eating like you,” she said, eyeing Hannah’s almost empty plate, “we won’t last the week.”

A loud thump grabbed their attention. Hannah turned to find Parker with a slanted grin on his face, standing over an enormous boar with its throat sliced open. “Ask, and you shall receive, Mother.”

Hannah’s eyes smiled at her best friend. “Not bad for a petty thief from the Boulevard. How’d you manage that?”

Grabbing a mysterious piece of meat from Hannah’s plate, Parker popped it in his mouth. “You see, Hannah, when a man has his back against the wall, and the people he loves are in need, the primitive hunter in him emerges, and he does whatever he has to do for the sake of those he loves. We need food; I brought back food.”

Hannah looked from the boar to Parker and back. She rolled her eyes. “So, in other words, you took some experienced hunters into the woods?”

Parker flushed. “If you want to put it that way… Yeah.”

Hannah and her friends laughed. “Well, you just do whatever you have to do to keep food on the table. And we will call you man all you like.”

Eleanor gave her son a kiss, then looked disgustingly at the boar. “I don’t care what you call yourself, sweetie, just get this filthy thing off the table. Maybe you could find some experienced butchers to help you clean your kill.”

Parker picked the boar back up and followed his mom out of the dining room. Hannah shook her head, then glanced over the room. Eleanor was right; this lot was no army. But they were the only army Hannah had.

“I think you’re right, Karl. I’ll try and figure out our food situation, but do you think you could teach this group to fight?”

Karl nodded grimly. “Aye, I’m done underestimating you Arcadians. You’re all thieves and drunks and gluttons, but I’ll turn your people into killers quick enough.”

Hannah smiled. Ready or not, she knew they’d all be doing a fair amount of killing before long. Either that or they’d be dying.

****

Don’t miss the release of Revolution: The Rise of Magic, Book 4 or any news from Chris and Lee

Sign up for their mailing list here!

Need something else to read while you wait for the next KGU release? We have a bunch of other books.

You might just LOVE the Steel City Heroes trilogy. It’s filled with magic, mayhem, and VERY unlikely heroes!

Check their other books here.

QUICK!!!

I (Lee) only have a minute, so I’m going to type this fast. I’ve been rocking a crying baby for the last hour, and now that Baby Barbant has finally fallen asleep, I figure I can get in some brief snippet time.

I’m not even changing out of my pee soaked clothes first….so you know I’m dedicated to YOU, the fans.

This parenting thing is no joke. Someone should have warned me.

Anyways, we’re wrapping up book 4, and I am so excited for you all to read it. Basically everything that you (and I) wanted to happen for the last three books finally happens. I got the chance to introduce my new favorite character. A fan favorite (who shall remain nameless but you all know who I’m talking about) finally gets to kick some ass. And some long overdue justice gets served–and despite how long it took to get here, it’s piping hot.

Thanks for your patience, and your reading, and your kind words. You all are the best. Hopefully we get the full book out this week, but in the meantime, enjoy this snippet of Revolution: The Rise of Magic Book 4.

And how about that cover, huh?

Best,

Lee

****

Prologue [Unedited]

Cold rain fell like a barrage of arrows, threatening to drown what little survived amongst the Boulevard’s charred remains. The Queen that the slums were named for was long gone, but even she couldn’t bring back what had been taken from this place. Though it had been over a week, the rubble still smoldered, a testament to the power at Adrien’s disposal, and the damage his airship could exact.

Adrien’s eyes were fixed on the spot before they meticulously scanned the whole but empty city streets surrounding the Boulevard. The commoners—any who had lived through the Chancellor’s onslaught—had deserted Arcadia with the wizard and his Witch Bitch. And although the success of his airship should have made him feel triumphant, Adrien felt nothing but rage.

They had stolen from him, but victory would soon be his.

Doyle, Adrien’s assistant, cleared his throat from the open door of the Academy tower. “Sir, it’s time.”

Adrien stood for another moment as if he hadn’t heard the man and then finally turned, his long, blood-red robe flowing around him. The medallion of the Chancellor—reserved for ceremonial occasions—hung around his neck.

“They’re all assembled?” he asked, finally turning toward Doyle.

Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Yes, sir. All that remain. Fewer than I expected.”

The rebellion had claimed lives. His soldiers were killed in the streets—along with the Prophet and his faithful. But the Academy had seen its share of casualty, too, mostly by way of recruitment. It appeared that a small number of his own flock had thought Adrien’s actions were too extreme. They fled with the rabble. Their punishment would be even more severe.

Without another word, the two men proceeded out of the tower and toward the great hall.

As they entered the auditorium, Doyle spoke. “Your forces, sir, those who remain faithful, they are more committed than ever. If anything, that pitiful rebellion only culled the weak and spineless. All true Arcadians continue to stand at your service.”

They had better, Adrien thought. Or I’ll flay them alive.

“Thank you, Doyle,” was all that he said. He handed Doyle his notes and turned toward the stage. He had considered his words for days and could recite the speech by heart. Pushing through a set of double doors, he stepped out onto the broad platform lit from overhead with magitech spotlights. The crowd rose to their feet and applauded their leader.

Doyle was right about the size—he could see the empty rows in the back of the auditorium. They had taken some losses, but the look of commitment that washed over the faces of all in the room inspired more confidence than could be expected. Power surged through Adrien’s body; electricity tingled around the surface of his skin. The remaining faculty stood on the stage prepared to follow him wherever he might lead.

Eyeing the empty seats, he finally smiled at Nikola and August and gave them an assuring nod. They would be compensated well for their loyalty—or at least for their intelligence in choosing the winning side.

Raising his hands, Adrien smiled broadly. “Thank you. Thank you, so much. Now, please sit.”

For the first time, his devoted denied his command. They remained standing, and the applause only grew louder.

Seldom given over to these emotions, Adrien’s throat constricted. He was overwhelmed by their commitment. They recognized his power for what it was. Nodding, he said again, “Thank you. Now, sit. There is no time for fanfare.”

The crowd simmered to silence and sat, the faculty followed suit.

“You all know of the cowardly attack against us. The fake Founder and his student from the Boulevard infiltrated these very halls.” Heads nodded in response. “It was an attack none of us could have expected. I had always hoped that Arcadia would stand in the light of peace for all of her days. But peace is not easy to maintain when there are others lurking in the shadows who covet all that you have, who want to destroy you.”

The audience shifted in their seats. His words inspired them, as much as they filled them with fear.

“Your loyalty to Arcadia—and to me—is truly touching. You are my faithful, and I will never forget the faces that are here tonight. But let us also not forget the faces of the others. Of the ones committed to our vision for a beautiful city whose bodies are still cooling in their graves. Magicians, Guards, and Disciples alike bled for the sake of our vision, which was big enough to give their breath to. And now, it is time to hunt down the bastards that destroyed our city. It is time to make them pay.”

The crowd leaped to their feet, and a steady roar hung in the room.

Adrien smiled and nodded. He let them cheer and shouted over the clamor. “Each and every one of you will be key in our victory. Faculty, it’s time to leave behind your books and your offices. Students, consider this your official graduation.”

He paused, and let the frenzy grow.

“School is out, boys and girls. It is time to go to war!”

****

Don’t miss the release of Revolution: The Rise of Magic, Book 4 or any news from Chris and Lee

Sign up for their mailing list here!

Need something else to read while you wait for the next KGU release? We have a bunch of other books.

You might just LOVE the Steel City Heroes trilogy. It’s filled with magic, mayhem, and VERY unlikely heroes!

Check their other books here.

Personal note: as I’m writing this, my cat is literally trying to burrow into my beard. So I’m blaming all typos, here and future, on Cat.

So… Mrs. Barbant has never read one of my books. Which is fine by me, considering she’s an English teacher who spends her days failing students for bad writing (crap…now she’s giving me a look that says I shouldn’t exaggerate. She always knows when I’m telling lies about her! She spends her days lovingly helping students become better writers).

However, due in part to how much praise you all have been giving The Rise of Magic, she decided to read Restriction this weekend. Suffice it to say, I was pretty nervous about how she’d feel about it. Chris was too. He practically begged me not to let her do it—as if I had any control over her.

But the good news is she gave us an A (not an A+ though, since I couldn’t properly demonstrate what a “shit-eating grin” looked like. Apparently, we used that expression too often for her taste).

Anyway, you’ll be happy to know I now have my wife’s approval to keep working on the series—as if she had any control over me (she just gave me that look again. She does, she does have lots of control over me). (Ha, ha now she’s looking over my shoulder and telling me I use too many parenthetical statements in my snippets.) (I’ll show her.)

My wife and I had the day off today (although, one of the joys of being a part-time writer is that you never really get the day off), so we decided to get a bunch of errands done.

She’s currently trying to figure out how all of these dang baby gadgets work (Question: How many trademarked car seat connect systems can there really be? Answer: Apparently infinite). Rebellion is going through its final round of edits and will release SOON! Which means, apart from releasing snippets, writing author notes, and finishing the blurb, my attention has turned toward book four—Revolution.

But you don’t want to hear about Revolution yet… that’s fair, considering we are being cruel and withholding book three.

So, what I can do is drop another Rebellion snippet for y’all. With these first chapters, you really get to see the rising tension in Arcadia—and how Hannah and co. are to blame for that. Basically, we spend the rest of the book throwing fuel on the flames until it all boils over in glorious fashion. You can’t make a rebellion omelet without cracking a few noble eggs.

Enjoy!

Lee

chapter 1 (cont.)

(Unedited)

Karl leaned against a wall just inside the gate of Arcadia. He smoked his pipe as he watched the travelers come into the city and a few native Arcadians also return. The latter all stood out. He could tell a city dweller by the extra weight they carried in their bellies. As much as he despised Arcadia, he loathed the Arcadians even more.

Sure, there were some good folks inside the walls, but most of them lived in the South, down on Queen’s Boulevard. Those people hardly counted as Arcadians. Their bodies were kept strong, and their wills were sharpened by the fight for daily survival. And none of them were coming through the gate. They didn’t have the luxury of a day hike into the woods or a recreational hunt.

Most of the Arcadians coming through the gates were nobles, and Karl had no patience for them.

Besides the farmers and trappers who traveled to the city to sell their goods, other lowlanders were coming into Arcadia—more than Karl had ever seen. Word had spread across the countryside that the government of Arcadia was hiring, and young men flooded in looking for a high paying job building the Chancellor’s war machine—of course none of them really knew what they were getting into.

Karl snorted as he watched them enter. In part, he wanted to warn them, tell them to go back to their families. But he couldn’t. The rebellion required secrecy, and if all went according to plan, there wouldn’t be work in the factory for much longer. However, not all of them were bent on working the factory floor. Some had come to throw their lot in with the Guard. Their numbers were increasing as well.

Most on the streets said it was to provide more security for the citizens. After all, dangerous Unlawfuls were running around, but Karl knew differently. Adrien was building an army. The question was, whom would they march against?

After an hour of watching and smoking, Karl finally saw what he was waiting for. Three large carts surrounded by rearick rolled up to the gate. They were quickly waved through by the Guards. Amphoralds—precious gems mined from the Heights—had been pouring into the city like ale into a mystic’s goblet. The rearick had become familiar to the Guards, and the men working the gates knew better than to hold up the precious delivery.

Karl fell into step behind them, close enough to blend in, but just far enough not to be greeted by one of his native folk.

The rearick dropped off their load at the factory. The amphoralds were a key component to making Arcadian magitech. The rearick took their pay and all dispersed in different directions—the majority of the group splitting evenly between the taverns and the brothels.

Cutting down a side alley, Karl beat a group to Sully’s Tavern and took a seat at the end of the dim bar. The other rearick entered soon after him and started buying each other rounds, their travel-wearied faces lightening a bit after the long day. Karl scanned the crowd, looking for someone he trusted.

That rearick found him.

“Well, shit on me hammer! Freaking Karl!”

The rearick looked up to see Garrett, the kid he’d patrolled with before. Karl couldn’t help grinning ear to ear. Garrett was young but had great potential.

Garrett slammed him on the back. “How the hell ye been, Karl? It’s been weeks.”

Karl laughed. “Good to see ya, kid. Grab a seat; have a drink on me.” He motioned to the bartender. “Yeah, I haven’t been back to the Heights since our last run. Decided to settle in here for a bit. Got a job—good payer.”

The kid shook his head. “Good enough pay to keep you from the Heights? Must be a sack of gold bigger than a dragon’s dick. You’d never catch me settling in with these lowlander twats.”

Karl shook his head. The salty language indicated that Garrett had been on the road a lot. “Eh, ain’t so bad. I got a job with some rich-ass nobleman. He’s all nervous with the Disciples and the Unlawfuls running around killing each other. I pretty much sit around scratching my balls and making money. Can’t beat it for an old rearick like me—better for my knees. What about you? Still running with the shipments?”

“Yeah. It’s been damned steady. And you know, not bad piece of coin for a few days walks. But remember that fight we had with the remnant?”

Karl nodded and sipped his ale.

“It just keeps happening. Something has those damned munchers up in arms. But, ya know, I’ve gotten pretty good at knocking their brainless heads off their shoulders.”

Karl couldn’t help but laugh. The kid was a damned fool, not unlike Karl when he was Garrett’s age. The younger rearick had skills, Karl had seen him in action, but he could only pray that it wouldn’t go to the kid’s head. Nothing like an extra helping of hubris to get your ass handed to you in battle—or worse—your head.

“Eh, well, be safe out there. Those monsters are smarter than we give em credit for—or their animal nature is strong enough to make them as dangerous as any man I’ve gone toe-to-toe with.”

Garrett patted his oversized ax, slung to his waist. “As long as she’s with me, I’ll be OK.”

Karl winked. “Just be careful, kid.” He sipped his drink and then decided to try for some information. “So, what’s going on at the mine these days?”

With a shrug, Garrett said, “Still running hard, trying to get as much of the amph out as we can before the demand dries up.”

Karl raised a brow. “How do you mean?”

“Word in the Heights is that Arcadia is going to cut back on its orders soon. A few more big shipments like today’s, and we’ll be back at normal production, and you know what that’s like.”

Karl stared out across the bar. Garrett’s message wasn’t the one that he expected. He slapped some coins on the table. “I gotta get back to the noble’s place. Good seeing you, kid, and keep yer head down out there. The remnant ain’t going to take it easy on ye because of yer good looks.”

Shaking Karl’s calloused hand, the kid smiled. “Will do. And when the jobs dry up again, I might be looking for some work. Maybe yer noble will need a young buck?”

“Never know, kid. I’ll keep my ears open.”

Karl cursed as he left the bar. If it was true that the city was about to end their orders of the magitech crystals, it could only mean one thing—Adrien’s warship was too damned close to completion.

Instinctively, he reached down and rubbed the handle of his hammer. Karl had a feeling she would soon get all the action she needed.

Maybe more than she could handle.

****

With a deafening crack and a flash, Parker and Hannah appeared in a dim room.

Parker exhaled. “Shit. You’re really good at this.”

“I learned some things,” she said with a grin.

She was shaking, and Parker knew that their trick had physically taken a toll on Hannah. The magic wore her out—less so as she mastered it, but it was still taxing.

The building they were in was broken down and dusty, but everything was arranged carefully, as if the owner had left years ago, but was planning to return. Parker recognized the room, but it took him a second to realize it was the place that Hannah’s brother, William, had taken him days before his death.

“You didn’t do half bad up there,” Hannah said. “But a raised fist? Really?”

Parker laughed. “I know more about childbirth than magic—which is to say nothing. So I had to wing it. Anyway, you think they bought it?”

Hannah nodded, but he knew she wasn’t really listening. Instead, her eyes were taking in the room.

“Teleportation isn’t easy, especially into or out of buildings, but it helps if you have a clear picture of where you’re going. I’ve spent enough time in this room with my brother to feel confident in jumping here.”

“I’m sorry,” Parker whispered.

She shook her head, her voice firm if a little sad. “Don’t be. He wouldn’t want you to be. Will would be glad that his life was sacrificed for something good. The rebellion will happen, and when it does, all will hear about the role he played in it.”

Hannah looked down, realizing that they were still holding hands. Her face flushed. “Now you better either get me some flowers or let go of my hand—before I kick your ass.”

Parker dropped her hand and wiped his sweaty palm on his cloak. “Right. Sorry.”

She laughed at his awkwardness. Parker was usually as cool as a rearick’s ale, so it was fun to see him sweat. “Kind of like old times,” she finally said. “I was waiting for you to start juggling and doing backflips.”

He grinned. “Almost had to. Never thought I’d pull them away from that windbag.” He paused, still grinning like an idiot. “I dunno, but I think they were pretty into it. I mean, the people need something, and they know it. Old Dirty Dick Jed gave them something they thought they wanted—an escape from their world. Someone else to blame for their problems. He could have told them stories about hermaphrodite zombies that were coming to pull them out of their sorrows, and they would have bit. I just wish someone who cared about justice would have beat him to the punch.”

Hannah nodded. “It’s all going to work. They’re still hungry. People were falling into place because they needed something; you’re right about that. But they want something more than his lies. They want the truth, and the truth about the Arcadia that Ezekiel dreamed of is way better than the shitty reality that Adrien and Jed have made. Our plan will work.” She turned to look out through a hole. “It has to.”

The sun was starting to set outside the window of Hannah and William’s old hideout. Soon, they would have the cover of night to sneak back to their base, but the manpower had been increased to enforce the curfew, and they would have to be careful. With Hannah’s exhaustion, they’d likely need to rely upon their old paths.

“We’d better go,” she said as she stepped through the broken window and out into the night air. “But I want you to tell me more about these hermaphroditic zombies.”

****

A pile of parchment sat on the desk in front of Ezekiel, but he paid it no attention. For days he had been charting plans, scheming of ways to defeat his student, Adrien, and those who had fallen into step with him. But none of them seemed good enough, save one.

He sucked on his pipe and blew smoke rings into the still air of the living room. They had set up in Girard’s house, and Ezekiel was thankful that the dastardly noble had a place that could house their small group. Girard was no good to anyone in life—but in death, he was making quite the contribution.

From this mansion, the seeds of rebellion would bloom.

They weren’t nearly strong enough yet for a full-on assault. Hannah was growing fast, and they had found some capable allies, but Adrien’s forces were dangerous. It seemed like damned near everyone within the walls of Arcadia had fallen under his spell. But if they waited until the numbers were with them, they’d never start. Regardless of the odds, they would have to strike before long.

If Adrien finished his mighty airship before they could take him down, only the Matriarch knew the kind of damage he would do to Arcadia—and to all of Irth.

Ezekiel thought of Hannah and her training. Great power lay within her, and they were still trying to figure out the extent of her abilities. Sal, the lizard-turned-dragon, was evidence of a new magical art, something Ezekiel had not yet seen.

And it may be the exact kind of spell-work he had spent the last half century looking for.

As if cued by his thought, Sal flew down from the second floor and landed on a table in the middle of the great room. The sturdy wood moaned under the weight of the beast, who continued to grow with remarkable speed.

“I’m working, you scaly bastard,” Ezekiel cooed through his beard. “A magician needs his peace.”

Sal tilted his head back and let out a tiny groan. He was like a toddler who just learned that he could talk. Albeit a toddler who could bite your arm off. The dragon yawned, showing off a line of razor-sharp teeth.

Ezekiel laughed. “You really are a disgrace—for a lizard.”

The dragon whipped out his tongue and dropped down onto the floor. Walking over to Ezekiel, he curled up at the master magician’s feet.

“All right, then. Don’t make a peep, and you can stay.”

The dragon continued to change as the days passed by. His scales grew darker, almost an emerald green, and his wingspan was the size of a rug. Sal was only a shadow of his previous self. Ezekiel marveled at the way Hannah was able to change his entire existence, and how that change carried so much hope within it.

He thought again about telling Hannah the truth, but once again decided against it. She had too much to focus on now.

He would reveal all after Adrien had been dethroned.

Laughter poured in from the back of the house, breaking the silence he had all afternoon. He could hear Hannah and Parker joke as if the world were at peace. With their laughter, his own lips broke into a smile. It brought him joy to see them this way, and he hoped they might savor the moment. War was coming, indeed, and the laughter wouldn’t last forever.

As the two made their way to the living room, Sal sprang to his feet. In his excitement, he bumped his head against the underside of the desk and knocked Ezekiel’s papers everywhere. As they fluttered to the floor, the dragon launched into the air to meet and greet his master. His flying had come a long way, but as he smashed a vase with a wing, Ezekiel knew he had a long way to go.

The beast nearly toppled Hannah as it descended into her arms.

“Hey, Sal,” she beamed. “Miss me?”

The dragon did. Hannah and Sal were connected through a deep, mysterious magic, and the dragon hadn’t been the same since they had returned to the city. Being cooped up in the house was taking its toll on Sal, and Ezekiel knew that as the thing kept growing, they’d have to come up with new options for him.

“How’d it go?” Ezekiel asked as Hannah and Parker settled into the couch across the room.

The two told him about the exploits in the Boulevard, waving their hands with relish as they spoke.

He nodded. “Good. It seems like the Boulevard is ready, but you two need to be careful. If they catch…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hannah said with a wave of her hand, “we know. But there’s nothing to worry about. No way some doucher like the Prophet could stop us. If this were the old days, I could have picked his pockets clean—he was so focused on Parker.”

Ezekiel’s face turned stern. “Do not take my words lightly, child. The days of your youth are over. If this rebellion is to happen, you will be one of the keys to its success. Parker’s role is important, but perhaps your time might be better spent elsewhere.”

Hannah shrugged and cocked her head, realizing that he was referring to something.

“Like in class,” Ezekiel said.

“Ah, shit burgers,” Hannah squealed. “Totally forgot. It’s a waste of time anyway… acting like I don’t know anything, while I don’t learn anything. I think it’s actually made me worse at magic.”

“You’re not there to learn magic; you’re there to learn about your peers. You’re not the con artist from the Boulevard anymore,” he said. “You’re a noblewoman and a magician in training, it is time you act like it.”

Hannah grinned. “Yeah, I’m a con-artist in the Academy now. Big difference. Anyway, Parker needs me. My magic adds a little flair to his presentation, and you can never have too much flair.”

“Hey, I’ve got plenty flair,” Parker said.

Hannah patted him on the knee. “Aw, that’s cute. But no. No, you don’t.”

Ezekiel rubbed his beard. “I might have a solution for that, but right now, you need to get your ass to class.”

Hannah ran up the stairs to throw on clean clothes, leaving Parker and Ezekiel in the great room. The two looked at each other. Silence grew thick between them.

Finally, Ezekiel cut through it. “How’s she doing?”

Parker grinned. “Toughest person ever to come out of the Boulevard. She’s doing well, I think.”

“Good, she’s tough, not invincible. You two have been together a long time. I need you to keep an eye on her when I’m not around. The target on her back is big and growing every day.” Ezekiel paused and drew on his pipe, blowing smoke rings. “She’ll need good people beside her.”

“I always have been.”

The old man nodded. “And, how are you?”

Parker flinched, unused to being asked about himself from someone other than his mother. He sat still as a statue, wondering how to respond. Finally, he rolled his sore shoulder and brushed his palm against his chest where the marks of his torturer still burned. “I feel… fine. I guess. Don’t want to be tortured again anytime soon, but I’ll be careful out there. I kind of walked into the last situation when I tried to get a job at the factory.”

“A lot of men are making that error,” Ezekiel said. “Desperate times push us all to do that which we question. It’s why we must proceed with caution and patience. Our propensity will be to try to usher in the rebellion faster than we ought. Timing is everything.”

Parker shifted in his seat. The Founder was still a bit of an enigma to him, and he was unsure how straightforward he could talk with the man. He decided to test the water. “Indeed. But it is even harder when it is your neighbor being tortured and even killed inside the walls of that bloody sweatshop.”

Ezekiel smiled. “You’re not wrong. It’s your passion, yours and Hannah’s, that will be our greatest strength in the fight to come. Don’t let it become our greatest weakness as well. This will take patience as well as power.” Ezekiel drew on his pipe again. “Which reminds me, when will you start your magical training?” His eyes narrowed on Parker.

Parker shifted awkwardly in his seat again. “Dunno if I will. Never was one much for magic. It might not be for me, you know? You have magic; I have tricks. Each has its strengths.”

As he finished his words, Hannah ran through the room looking like the beautiful noblewoman she had shaped herself into.

“See you, boys,” she yelled as she bolted out the door. Sal flew to the window to watch her from inside.

Ezekiel saw the smile and glow on Parker’s face. The two had something special, and Ezekiel was pleased that they had one another.

With his eyes still on the path she cut across the room, Parker said, “Besides, when we work together, I feel we have our own art. It is all the magic I need.”

****

Don’t miss the release of Rebellion: The Rise of Magic, Book 3 or any news from Chris and Lee

Sign up for their mailing list here!

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Fellow Arcadians,

It’s Easter Weekend, and the beginning of my kids’ Spring Break as I type this.

I love being a dad!

After playing in the warm Pennsylvania sunshine, we made up some popcorn and piled onto the couch for a movie night.

Many times when we do this, the decision is very difficult.

Not tonight.

“Rogue One, Rogue One,” the spawn chanted as I fired up the computer and connected it to the TV. My daughter (a fierce Star Wars junkie) and I saw it in the theater, but we were both psyched to watch it again. The first time I saw it, believe it or not, was before we had even conceived of Hannah, Ezekiel, Sal, and all of Irth.

As I watched, I fell in love with Jyn Erso all over again. Only this time, I realized that she and Hannah had so much in common… (Don’t worry, there are NO hints of the fate of our hero in Rogue One! I wouldn’t dare.)

Although there is plenty of debate about the most recent releases in the Star Wars Universe, I love the focus on strong, funny, bad ass female leads. They would fit right into the Kurtherian Gambit Universe!

Jyn and Rey won my heart.

But they’ve got nothing on Hannah.

So without further ado, here’s the cover release for Rebellion: The Rise of Magic, Book 3:

And to get a taste of the rebellion, below is your first snippet!

Cheers,

CM

Rebellion: Rise of Magic, Book 3 (Unedited)

Prologue:

“This is the chaos of Unlawful magic!” Jedidiah the Prophet screamed as he pointed to the burnt down house. He stood on a hastily constructed platform in front of the rubble that had once been Hannah’s home. It was his favorite prop. “Let this spot forever remind you what happens when the people of Irth ignore the restriction—when they ignore the command of the gods!”

The sermon wasn’t a new one. The Prophet had been reciting it almost word for word for weeks now. Jedidiah read aloud the names of the Hunters who were killed trying to apprehend Hannah. After finding her brother dead, she nearly took out an entire city block blasting their bodies to hell with the magic she had not yet mastered. The Prophet loved the fact that she had shredded them; it made his testimony that much more powerful.

“Law without magic is impotent. However, magic without law is bloody deadly. Our world has learned the lesson time and time again. It is why the Matriarch and the Patriarch put people like the Chancellor in the world to be the gatekeepers. Someone with a mastery of the craft, but also with self-control. Our submission to his will is itself an act of adoration of our Good Parents.”

Jedidiah’s voice grew hoarse from shouting. The crowds had only grown in recent days. Since the death of his Disciples in the noble district, he only expected them to get bigger.

“Preach it!” a voice yelled from just a few rows back.

His Disciples, filling those first ten to twenty rows were completely committed to both message and mission. They would do anything for the Prophet, and nearly a dozen of them had proven that recently by dying while searching for Unlawfuls. Jed would have preferred it if they had been successful, but he was glad for their loyalty nonetheless.

For the first year of his ministry, Jed’s Disciples were wayward folks, looking for meaning anyplace they could find it. Most were outcasts then, gathering peacefully on the Capitol lawn. But now, they were all armed with clubs, and pitchforks, and whatever else could do some damage. They were his little army, and they made Jed feel like a god himself.

Behind them were the curious, and still further back, the onlookers. Since the girl named Hannah had nearly blown up the Queen’s Boulevard, the heckling had stopped. Jed’s Disciples had made their influence known, and one was better off tangling with a Guard at the Arcadian gate than to piss off a zealot with a ­­­­­­­homemade spear.

“The Mother and Father have spoken through the Chancellor, and he remains the regulator. But friends, Adrien and his people cannot do all of the good work, which is why we gather in devotion to the calling of the Parents. You have all done so well in pointing out and taking down the Unlawfuls among you. It is hard work. It is dangerous work. But there could be no more a Holy…”

Movement near the back of the horde drew Jedidiah’s attention, and he lost his train of thought. There was a slight rumbling, and everyone looked around to see what was going on.

Jedidiah continued, trying to regain his composure. “No greater calling, that is. We have been put here to cleanse all of Irth from…”

The crowd shifted again, and he could see people break away and move away from his assembly.

What the bloody hell? he thought, squinting to see what the commotion was. Then, some of his faithful near the front started to leave, too.

“Where the hell do you all think you’re going?” he shouted over the crowd.

One of the Disciples turned to him. “Sir, they’re… they’re going to listen to, well, a preacher.”

A preacher? Jedidiah asked himself. On MY turf? No fucking way! Jedidiah stepped off the platform and rushed behind the crowd. His face burned, and his pride was battered. Whoever was stealing his flock would pay, and pay dearly.

As he approached, he heard the voice, young but strong, that drew away his flock. Pushing through the crowd, Jedidiah finally laid his eyes on the preacher. He wasn’t much more than a kid, and he was shouting from the roof of a rundown bar. Jed thought he recognized him, but he wasn’t sure.

“The Prophet might call you Disciples, but I call you neighbors,” the young man shouted. “The Prophet has come from beyond the walls of our city, but I was born and raised on this very street. He has drawn you in with fear, but instead, I will give you only the truth.”

A few boos picked up from the crowd, but the majority shouted them down. “Let the kid speak,” a woman in the front yelled.

“The Prophet is a damned liar. He is poisoning your hearts and minds by preaching the Chancellor’s propaganda. But here is the dirty little secret that everyone has wondered once or twice—” his eyes narrow on Jedidiah “—at least, if you’ve been here for more than a year. Why should magic only be given to the few, when there is so great a need for it? Why should magic be walled in behind the Academy when the Boulevard needs it, too? What if the Prophet is wrong, and magic is not a danger, but a blessing? A blessing meant for all.”

“Go back to hustling, Parker,” another voice yelled. The crowd laughed, and Parker grinned along with them.

“Ah, a prophet from his own city doesn’t stand a chance now, does he? But, I tell you this is the truth, and this truth will set us free.”

“You don’t know shit, Parker,” a gruff voice shouted.

Parker, Jed thought. He’s that punk who was always hanging around with the witch. What’s he doing here?

Parker grinned again and pushed his hands into the pockets of his cloak. “I don’t know shit? I’ve been living in it for years. We all have.” He paused, and some of the crowd began to nod along. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of the shit I do know.”

That drew a few cheers, and it was clear the crowd was warming to the boy’s speech. There was an electricity moving through the street, and it scared the hell out of Jedidiah.

“And what do you know about magic and the will of the gods? You’re just some dumbass kid—and an Unlawful sympathizer,” Jedidiah finally shouted, desperately trying to turn the situation around. “You’ll bring down the wrath of the gods upon us!”

The crowd roared, and Parker lifted his hands to silence them. “Magic is dangerous. The Unlawfuls can’t be trusted. The gods will punish us. We’ve heard these things a million times. The Prophet spews them daily from his stage. But do any of you have proof? Have you been hurt by an Unlawful? Have you seen Academy magicians use their magic irresponsibly? I have. I have seen the cruelty of Hunters and the apathy of nobles. Do you really believe the gods have placed power in their hands while keeping it from hard working people like you? No. But here’s the real question, that every Arcadian should be asking…”

He paused, letting the tension build. “Has Adrien’s restriction made your lives better?”

The mob was silent, but their silence answered his questions loud enough.

“Let me tell you what I have seen,” Parker continued. “I have seen an Unlawful heal the wounded. I have seen an Unlawful fight back against evil. I have seen an Unlawful who was blessed by the gods. You all know who I’m talking about. You’ve known her all your life—and yet you listen,” Parker stabbed a finger behind those watching him, “to this bastard lie about her day after day.”

Jedidiah felt the stares as everyone turned to look at him. For once in his life, he hated the attention.

“But I’m telling you the truth,” Parker’s voice rose, working toward his conclusion. “The gods have sent us a hero. And she’s not some hypocritical drunk, preaching for her own glory. No, she’s out there fighting for all of you. Fighting against the Chancellor and his wicked puppets. Fighting against the cruelty of the Prophet’s Disciples. Fighting for a free use of magic for everyone. The question is, will you join her when the time is ready? Will you fight for your city?”

People murmur, they shuffle around.

“Of course, you won’t fight. Because you don’t know the truth. You’ve swallowed the Chancellor’s lies. For most of my life, I believed exactly as you do now, and why shouldn’t I? From the cradle, it was the milk I drank—the stories that would put me to sleep at night. But they were lies told with a single purpose: to keep you weak so that others could be strong.”

The people in the crowd looked at one another, and for a moment, Parker wasn’t sure if they wanted to listen or murder him. They remained quiet, indicating the former.

“And they are using that strength for their own personal gain. As we speak, the Chancellor and the Governor are using the men of the Boulevard as slaves. Not to keep us safe or enhance the city, but instead, they are building mighty weapons. Tools of war to secure their power and extend it beyond the gates.”

“Horseshit,” a woman’s voice shouted from the crowd.

“Oh, really? Then where are the men? Why are the bars, and the streets, and the market so damned empty? Hell, even the Pit has closed down. They are given jobs and taken prisoner. You all keep your mouths shut because the damned blood money is too good to be true.”

Another voice called out, this one truly inquisitive, from the middle of the horde, “How do you know this, Parker?”

Parker’s smile faded for the first time as he reached up and began unlacing his cloak. With a flourish, he dropped his cloak to the ground, exposing his chest and back. His flesh was badly scarred from burns and cuts and other torture he withstood on the bottom levels of the factory. Holding up his arms he showed the blisters from the magitech shackles that were still trying to heal.

“I know because I was there. I know because these marks were handed down from on high. I know because I saw my friends and neighbors—your family—kept in the same conditions. And if I didn’t escape, I’d either still be building Adrien’s machine… or dead.”

A wave of shame and sadness swept over the crowd as they pictured their fathers, husbands, and sons with bodies that were beaten like Parker’s. Jedidiah saw their reactions and knew he was screwed—unless he did something. He muscled his way to the front of the crowd.

His eyes narrowed. “You are damned, Unlawful. You will be punished for your sins!”

Parker only laughed in response. “The deepest ring of hell is reserved for the one who not only lies, but also leaves the innocent devoured in his wake.” He raised his eyes back to the crowd. “This puppet here has lied to you, spreading Adrien’s poison, for years. You’re trapped in their snare, but you have the power to release yourselves. Be captive no longer. We have the power. The Founder has returned. Hannah lives, and scoundrel liars like Jed here will feel their wrath before the seasons turn.”

All eyes were on him. The crowd was silent. Even Jedidiah himself stood with his mouth slightly open.

Parker raised his hands over the crowd. “War is at hand. Prepare yourselves. The Rebellion is now!”

The Prophet and his closest knew that the kid had to be stopped. The Disciples rushed the bar, climbing up boxes to try and make it on the roof, with weapons at the ready. “Seize the Unlawful,” Jedidiah screamed over the cheering crowd.

As the Disciples neared the roof, the crowd stopped, frozen in time, ready for the confrontation that they knew had been brewing.

Parker laughed. “You cannot touch me, swine. The Founder is with me, and HE is strong.”

He raised a fist, and a mighty crash filled the air. With a flash of blinding light. Smoke covered Parker.

When it cleared, the young man was gone.

Chapter 1

Sitting on a barrel behind the crowd, Hannah chewed a blade of grass and listened in. A large, green hood covered her strawberry blond curls, and with her noble outfit on, she felt pretty safe from detection as the girl who had nearly blown up the Boulevard—but still, it wasn’t worth taking chances bigger than they already were.

It had been over a month since she and Ezekiel had started the ruse—infiltrating the Academy as student and teacher—but it seemed that in due time, their gambit would pay off in spades—especially now that they had Parker back.

Watching her best friend work the crowd from his spot on the roof reminded her of their good old days of running cons in the middle of the market square for a pocketful of coins. The risk felt so great back then. And now, here they were, running a con—a long con. The risks were much greater than the old days, but so were the rewards. They were hustling for their city’s very survival.

As Parker preached about the Founder, Hannah couldn’t help but smile. She’d been working with Ezekiel for months, and it was hard for her to think of her mentor as some sort of mythic figure. The Founder was real, and she knew that—even if she was still working out her perspective of the Bitch and the Bastard. Religion was hard, especially for those growing up poor as dirt under the rule of a drunken, shithead father.

Ezekiel told her that the Matriarch and Patriarch hadn’t abandoned them, that they were off protecting their world in a fight too big for Hannah to comprehend. But that’s not much comfort when you grew up poor, scared, and alone like she had.

But those days were long behind her. Now, she was a magician and a warrior, fighting a just cause—the death of Adrien.

Parker was good in front of people; he always had been. That was a skill Hannah had never known. But she was the one who had healed him after being nearly beaten to death in the factory. She was proud of him for his skills and pleased with her own. Even with his new scars, she knew she had brought him back from the brink of death.

Hannah shook away the memories when she saw the Prophet and his goon squad rush the bar. She held steady, waiting for the sign. Parker said she would know it when she saw it.

“You cannot touch me, swine. The Founder is with me, and he is strong,” Parker yelled as he threw a fist in the air.

That’s it, she thought.

Hannah spread her arms outward and contorted her hands in a complicated pattern. Her eyes blazed red from underneath her hood. As the smoke and thunder roared, she focused on Parker and with a flash, she was next to him. The smoke, a product of one of Parker’s tricks, covered the stage and hid them from the sight of the crowd. Parker smiled when he saw her.

She smiled back, then moved into action. She grabbed his hand, and their fingers interlaced. With a whoosh, they disappeared into thin air.

****

Don’t miss the release of Rebellion: The Rise of Magic, Book 3 or any news from Chris and Lee

Sign up for their mailing list here!

Need something else to read while you wait for the next KGU release? We have a bunch of other books.

You might just LOVE the Steel City Heroes trilogy. It’s filled with magic, mayhem, and VERY unlikely heroes!

Check our other books here.

Usually, I love a good lazy Saturday. The kids are doing their thing, it’s warming up outside, and I’m sitting by the French doors drinking coffee and listening to a podcast (James Altucher and Steven Pressfield).

That is normally the equation for a perfect weekend  morning.

Instead, I’m sitting here, itching for Reawakening to release on Amazon! Looks like we’re caught in the weekend slump, so I figured it was time for a snippet to be released.

Here it is.

We hope you like it!

Cheers,

Chris

****

****

Reawakening: The Rise of Magic Book 2 (Unedited)

Prologue

Sparks flew around the factory floor like a meteor shower on a clear winter night. Workmen rushed in every direction. The task called for perfect productivity, and if there was one thing that Doyle, the Chancellor’s personal assistant, knew, it was how to get shit done—and fast. Groups of exhausted workers in dirty clothes rushed in every direction; their number grew every day. The structure of the machine took form before his eyes. He could almost see its destructive potential.

The thought gave him chills.

“Everything is proceeding as planned.” The Chief Engineer appeared out of nowhere, and his presence made Doyle jump. Elon had been under pressure from the Chancellor to build the machine quickly, but more so since the heretic and his little unlawful apprentice had taken out a group of their best Hunters only a month earlier. Chancellor Adrien was feeling pressure, and he passed that pressure on down the chain.

“Good. The Chancellor will be pleased,” Doyle said, trying his best to imitate his boss’s strength. “The additional labor is speeding up the process nicely. Any problems on the floor?” Doyle glanced at the man whose neat cloak matched the bifocals sitting on his nose.

Elon never looked at ease, but the tension in his jaw had only increased since he had been made Chief Engineer after the very untimely death of his predecessor. The job was a significant promotion, but was still one few wanted due to its occupational hazards. “No problems, sir. Let the Chancellor know that we are on pace to catch up with his timeline. As long as everything goes as planned.”

“As planned?” Doyle asked.

“Yes, um, the workers are men with mouths to feed at home, and therefore, easy to control. They are doing precisely as we expected. But the magicians working the machine, they aren’t exactly used to this kind of work. I mean, it is a bit like herding spoiled cats, after all.”

Doyle’s face tightened. “You better fucking shepherd them well, Elon. You don’t want to give another engineer a shot at your position, do you?”

“No, sir.” The engineer failed to add the necessary confidence to his voice.

“That’s good to hear,” Doyle sneered. In the presence of the Chancellor, Doyle felt like an ant waiting to be stamped out of existence. But overlooking the floor of desperate men and fool-hardy magicians, it was easy to feel the power of the gods.

If he could only keep his seat at the table, he would one day rule beside one.

Chapter One:

With her back to the tree, Hannah felt sweat drip off her forehead. She wasn’t sure if it was pure terror that caused the perspiration, or the heat from the fifteen-foot-tall, molten, metal monster that was hunting her through the woods. She had never seen anything like the damned thing before. It was like something born of hell and given energy by every master magician that had ever walked Irth.

Victory was unlikely, which pissed her off beyond belief.

As the monster advanced, she could feel the ground quake with every one of its steps. The coolness from the shade of the trees disappeared, and she felt like she was in the baker’s oven just off the edge of the market.

Hannah peeked around the tree and saw the hell-beast advancing.

Twenty feet. You’ve got this, bitch, she thought. Focus!

Taking just enough time to breathe away the fear and self-doubt, she dove out from behind the trunk and hit the ground, tucking into a roll. The tumble ended with one knee on the ground and her arms facing the fiery metal beast. Sub-zero daggers of ice formed in her hand, then launched from her fist, landing hard on the monster’s face. It screamed in anger and pain as it stumbled backward into a large maple.

Hannah tried to capture the advantage. While the creature was temporarily blinded, Hannah placed both of her hands on the ground. She felt the power of the forest flowing through her hands, and she recited a silent prayer to nature.

The tree responded immediately.

Its branches reached down, grabbing hold of the fire monster.

Hannah smiled, amazed that the old tree responded to her and that she actually had this giant monster up against the ropes. She decided to finish it off.

She marched forward, working again on her ice spell. But this time, as the ice began to appear, she pulled her hands apart. The dagger turned into a spear, and she ran forward, ready to plunge it into the thing’s chest.

But as she neared her target, the molten monster roared in rage. The heat from its fires began to burn the old tree. The branches loosened, and the monster broke free. Jagged wooden splinters rained down on Hannah, cutting at her skin.

She shielded her eyes from the shattered branches, which blinded her to the monster’s attack. A giant fist swung down at her. Quickly, she raised her spear in defense, but her spell was no match for the monster’s strength. His fiery hand smashed her spear and knocked her to the ground.

Still roaring with rage, the hell monster stepped closer to its prey, slamming its arms into its chest.

“Ah, shit, I think I made him mad,” Hannah muttered under her breath.

She tried to crawl backward, but the giant advanced. Looking up, Hannah saw Hades’ servant on top of her; two fiery fists raised to the sky, ready to end the melee and her life.

“Screw me!” she screamed.

It was over.

The monster dropped an inferno in her direction, but just as it was about to send Hannah to meet her mother in the world beyond, it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

The sound of battle quickly faded into nothingness.

A dry voice echoed among the trees, breaking the silence once again.

“Damn it, Hannah. You need to focus,” Ezekiel, her mentor, scolded as he walked toward his fallen pupil.

Hannah’s heart continued to race, even though she knew the monster was only a figment of her imagination—a mental spell cast by Ezekiel. It was a damned good one, too, giving her not only a visual image, but the feeling of scalding flesh and the smell of burning hair in her nose.

“I was focused. Didn’t you see that shit I pulled?”

“Had this been a real fight, that shit would have gotten you killed,” Ezekiel argued, his face filled with scorn.

It had been a month since the event in Arcadia which forced her to flee the city for good. A group of asshole Hunters had set a trap for her. They killed her father and tortured her brother to death, expecting her to come along with them willingly. But Hannah was no meek child. Rage had welled up inside of her, and she unleashed a passion-filled, magical shitstorm on them. She destroyed the Hunter’s—and her home in the process.

It caused quite a commotion.

Ezekiel had hardly gotten her and her best friend Parker out of the city before the Governor’s Guard filled Queen’s Boulevard. And teleporting the three of them had nearly wiped the exhausted magician off the face of the earth. But the old man was stronger than he looked, and his wells of magic ran deep.

Since then, she had been training every day, preparing to exact justice on the person responsible for her brother’s death. The Hunters she killed were just pawns. Adrien, the Chancellor of Arcadia’s magical Academy, was her true target. And she was getting better—a fact Ezekiel seemed not to notice.

“Come on. Admit it. I did good against that thing.” Hannah smiled up at her teacher.

“It’s did well. And no, you didn’t.” The old magician cracked the faintest smile. “I mean, that was pretty smart, adapting the ice spell I taught you to make that spear. But, seriously, trying to capture a fiery, molten monster in the tangles of some tree? What were you thinking? The nature magic flowed well, but it’s the damned application, Hannah. No matter how strong the magic is, if it isn’t mixed with wisdom—or at least some common sense—it is for naught. You wasted energy and asked the forest to put itself in danger needlessly. I’ve told you a million times; nature magic is a relationship. Proving you’re worthy of respect, that matters more than you can imagine. The same will be true when you lead others someday.” As he said this, he reached out a hand and pulled Hannah to her feet.

Hannah stood as tall as she could, but her knees were weak. Not from her teacher’s chastisement, she was certainly used to that by now, but from the amount of power she used casting the spells. He was right, and she knew it—even if she’d never concede to Ezekiel. She had to learn how to fight, not only with strength and cunning, but also with wit and insight.

“Well, hopefully, I won’t be leading people against something like that monster. What the hell was that anyway? Are there really creatures like that in the world?”

Ezekiel smiled. “Not to my knowledge—not our world anyway. I’m not sure where that particular image came from. Maybe I read it in a book when I was younger.”

Hannah brushed the dirt off of her. “Well, it’s kind of hard to take any of this bullshit seriously when I know it is just child’s play,” she quipped.

“If you can’t handle child’s play, young one, you won’t stand a chance against a minion of the Chancellor, let alone, Adrien himself.”

“Trust me, if I ever see the Chancellor, I won’t miss. But in the meantime, why don’t you give me something real to fight?” she asked. “There has to be a better use of my magic than fighting your childhood demons.”

Ezekiel grinned and planted his staff in the dirt. “Don’t wish danger upon yourself, Hannah. It will come soon enough. But as it just so happens, you’ll get your wish. It is time for stage two of your training—an infinitely harder and more dangerous series of magic.”

Hannah’s eyes grew. She hungered for the challenge. “What are you going to teach me?”

Ezekiel looked down at her. “Infiltration. But this time, I won’t teach you anything. It’s time for you to meet the mystics.”

****

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I woke up this morning and my cat (named Cat) was literally sleeping on my neck. He’s no kitten, and I couldn’t tell if it was a sign of affection, or if he was trying to murder me in my sleep. Just in case it’s the latter, we decided to release another snippet for our book Restriction: The Rise of Magic. If my cat’s plan to murder me succeeds before our release date on Friday, I’m going to be pissed.

Still breathing,

Lee

****

(Haven’t read snippet one yet? It’s here.)

Chapter One (cont.)

Her body grew hot, sweat broke across her forehead and spread throughout her limbs. Hannah felt like there was something inside trying to escape the confines of her skin. She looked down at her brother, but a slight movement caught her attention.

A tiny, white lizard crawled out from behind a vendor’s barrel, walked over crawling up her brother’s arm and sat on top of her shaking brother’s body. The creature stared her in the face and cocked its head.

It was strange. Her brother lay dying in her arms, and all she could focus on was this damned lizard.

As she focused on the small, slimy reptile, the pent-up fear and unease rushed out of her. Every muscle in her body tensed and then released at once. Green light emanated from her, and in that moment, the lizard grew to the size of a cat. Tiny spikes pushed through its skin and its pale color turned into a dark green.

It blinked at her twice, then scurried out of sight.

Her breath caught, What the hell?

Hannah looked down at her brother lying quietly in her arms, breathing less erratic.

THANK GOD!

“What happened?” he asked. His color turning back to normal and his breaths falling back into a regular pace.

Hannah dropped into a slouch, pulling her brother into her body. Life in Arcadia without him would be pointless. William was her purpose. All that she did day-to-day was to care for him.

“Hell if I know,” Hannah said, looking down. “You OK?”

“I think—” he started to answer.

A commotion across the street cut her brother’s response short.

A street vendor was talking to a man with a head the size of an ox and a body to match. The vendor stopped arguing with his hands and pointed in Hannah’s direction. The large man looked over and stared right at her, yelling, “Get her!” Two smaller men followed as he pushed people out of his way, heading toward her and her brother.

Hannah’s eyes opened wide. Their chests were emblazoned with the sign of the Hunter; they were mercenaries hired to kill or capture anyone using magic unlawfully within the walls of Arcadia. They were licensed to use magic themselves, and while many in the community held them in high esteem, folks from Hannah’s quarter generally despised the preferential treatment they were given.

All they had to do was flex their magical muscles and people would bend over backward for them. And what choice did they have? Hunters could wield their magic with impunity. While these men were a terror for the Unlawfuls, they had little to do with Hannah’s life.

She was just a common girl.

Hannah glanced behind her looking for their target—an Unlawful brave enough to use magic in the market square. Her face scrunched up in confusion, there was no one there. A sick realization fell over the young woman, her eyes opening in fear.

The green light. The strange lizard, she thought. The Hunters were heading straight for William and her.

She was their target.

Scrambling up, she yanked William to his feet. She pushed him in the direction of their home. His safety was her only concern.

“Go. Run!” she hissed at him.

Sweat beaded up again on her forehead, and her stomach flipped over. Holding her ground, she waited for the men until they were a few yards off, slowing down their approach.

She reached into her cloak. The men froze, eyes wide. If they thought she was some sort of magician, caution would be called for. After all, she could be preparing some sort of a spell. She slowly pulled out her middle finger like it was a wand and waved it at them. “Screw you, douche nuggets!” Hannah yelled, a smirk on her face as she turned and ran for the nearest alley.

She had given William time to make his escape, and that was all that mattered.

****

“Hmph,” Ezekiel snorted, leaning on his staff in front of Jones’, his old favorite watering hole. The boards across its windows and door were rotted, giving an indication of how long it had been closed. The sight of the abandoned pub soured what was turning out to be an all-together disorienting homecoming.

The old man had been gone for nearly half a century, but it seemed as if he had been gone an eternity.

He looked around, scratching his bearded cheek. Apparently, a lot could happen to a city Arcadia’s size in four decades. His city had been transformed into a bustling trade center—the heart and some would say, soul, of Irth. He turned from the abandoned bar and ambled on, taking in the few places which had stayed the same and the many that were as different as a lifetime could make them. But each cobblestone still felt familiar under his feet.

Rounding the corner, he was nearly knocked over by a shirtless man covered in body art. The tattooed man rode a contraption that looked like a cart cut in half down the middle. The rider cut close on two wheels as he zoomed past. Stepping back, Ezekiel tripped and fell on his ass.

Mumbling under his breath, he noticed a hand extended into his view, offering to help him up. Ezekiel took the hand that belonged to a kid with a smile that reminded him of the old days. Proof that there was still good in Arcadia.

“OK, pops?” the kid asked.

Forcing a grin through his beard, Ezekiel nodded as the boy pulled him to his feet. “Will be. Not as swift as I once was.”

“Well, those damn magitech speeders are a danger to all of us. Mostly just the rich ride them. Not sure how that guy got one,” he nodded down the road in the direction the speeder had gone, musing to himself. “Probably stolen.”

“What’s a—”

Shouts from a block away cut him short. A young woman with a boy in her lap was screaming and looking in every direction. Zeke’s eyes widened as he saw the green light flow from her into a tiny lizard. His jaw dropped as the creature suddenly grew.

It was magic, there was no doubt about it. But that power was unlike anything he had personally witnessed. Following the disappearance of the green light, the boy’s tremors ceased and life came back to his face.

A toothy grin cut across the young man’s face, which lasted until a group of men rushed them. In a beat, the boy and the woman were running in opposite directions.

“What the hell is that all about?” Ezekiel pointed to the action down the block.

The young man was watching the action as well. “Hell’s got nothing to do with it. They’re Hunters. If they catch her they get a bounty. Pretty lucrative position if you can get it.”

“Hunters?”

“Sure. To catch the illegal magic users. Unrestricted use of magic is outlawed here. Hunters bring in the Unlawfuls—dead or alive.”

“That’s monstrous,” the old man’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger flashed across his face. When he had left Arcadia, magic had been free for any with the will to handle it. One needed a mentor to tame that which is within, of course.

But restrictions would have been unheard of when he was here last.

“You must’ve been gone a while, old-timer. That’s how things are run here in Arcadia. Have to control the magic, that’s what we’re told. It’s too dangerous if just anyone used it. I’m sure it’s for the best.” The kid turned to watch the three men rush after the girl. “She should know better. Those guys are gonna do a number on her.”

The boy shrugged, then looked back at the old man.

But he had disappeared.

****

Glancing over her shoulder, Hannah saw the men gaining. The three goons were faster than they looked. She turned right, then left, then right again. She popped out of the alley and into the heart of the bazaar. Her legs moved like they never had before as if a new sense of life flowed through her body.

Hopping over a cart filled with apples, she grabbed the handle, halfway jerking her arm out from the momentum. However, she was able to flip it and sent the green orbs rolling across the cobblestones.

She prayed the obstacles would gain her a few steps.

The grocer hurled curses behind her. Ignoring him, she ducked through a stall selling fine silken scarves that she could never afford. Hannah spun through the crowd, pushing her way toward safety, but the shouts behind her indicated she had not yet lost the Hunters.

Her eyes cut around the square, flicking from exit to exit, now alive with the excitement of a chase. She spied an alley she thought she knew and broke for it.

Footsteps grew louder as the men got closer. Dodging a large, wooden crate blocking her path, she took three steps before she looked down the alley.

“Shit,” Hannah muttered as she found herself arriving quickly to a dead end. The clamor of the men scrambling over the crate filled the alley, and she turned around and backed herself against the wall. Hannah lifted her hands in surrender.

She smiled, the humor never finding her eyes. “Fun game, guys. You caught me. I’m it now, right?”

“On your knees,” the lead man, a brute with a scar across his left eye, growled as he approached her.

“Seriously. I’m not what you think. Just a kid. My brother he—”

“Don’t look like just a kid to me,” a second said with the laugh of a hyena. “You look like a ripe woman. Ripe enough to eat.” His eyes scanned her body, making Hannah want to retch.

The two smaller men started to laugh but went dead quiet when the giant raised his hand.

“We’ve heard every excuse, Unlawful. None of them worked. No one’s talked their way out before. You’re certainly not going to be the first.”

The leader drove a bronze staff, which was nearly as tall as him, into the ground. Its tip glowed blue.

Magitech, Hannah thought. She’d seen the Hunter’s weapons take men down before. It was not a pretty sight, but she never thought she’d experience its power first hand.

Her eyes darted around the alley, both to the men and up to two windows, she doubted there was anyone listening who would intervene. She came back to her attackers. “I don’t know magic,” she cried. Her heart pounding out of her chest, she pleaded, “I beg you, listen.”

But these were men of violence, prone to act first and listen never.

The two men behind the staff bearer followed suit. In unison, their eyes covered over in black as if replaced by perfect midnight. It was the sign that they were about to do their own magic.

 

****

Hey, everyone,

As I sit here ready to post the snippet, our family is filled with nervous, creative jitters. Restriction should be dropping this Friday (3/17/2017), and I’m sitting in a school cafeteria waiting for my daughter to get out of an audition for the creative arts school in our area.

We’re both nervous as hell!

She’s trying out for Musical Theater (doesn’t get her singing and dancing from Dad).

She sang “On My Own” (Les Miserables), and her monologue was from Chekhov’s The Three Sisters.  Apparently, the evaluators thought her choice to go with Russian lit was really cool.

Now we both wait: Dad for Friday’s release of the first book in the latest arc in the Kurtherian Gambit Universe; Daughter for word on whether or not she made it into the school.

Keep your fingers crossed,

Chris

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Hey all! Lee here, and this is my first ever snippet (I hope they like it, I hope they like it, I hope they like it). As I’m sitting here writing this, my cat (named Cat) is crawling all over me. I think that means that he’s excited to read it-though he’s usually pretty picky. Let me (and Cat) know what you think!

****

 

Prologue

The Far Future…Irth (Earth)

Catherine smoothed her white skirt over her long, slender legs as she prepared to enter the classroom. She was about to give the most important lecture of her life, and she needed to look the part.

Five years working in the Ministry of Education, and she still got butterflies before she walked into the room. Having a great amount of respect for the vocation of teacher, some anxiety was natural, but Catherine hoped that someday she would feel comfortable amongst the students. She swallowed one last time and stepped through the door.

The classroom was abuzz with its normal electricity. The students were curious and even excited to learn. She knew that joy in schooling wasn’t typical for students of this age, but she was lucky to have been given the honor students—the best in New Arcadia. And she also knew that many of them, if she did her job well, would advance far beyond their teacher.

It was not unlike the story she was about to tell—the story of the girl who changed the world.

“Take your seats,” Catherine called out over the hubbub with a cheerful tone. “Settle down everybody!”

After what seemed like an eternity, the students complied.

She stood at the podium and shuffled her notes. “Good. Right. Who remembers what we were talking about last class?” Catherine asked.

Francis, whose parents were both teachers at the University, raised his hand. She nodded in his direction. “You had just introduced a new topic—the Age of Magic.”

“That’s right, Francis. We had finally finished going over the Age of Madness. Someone give us a quick recap into what the Age of Madness was. Remember,” she looked over those looking back at her, “it will be on the final exam.”

All the students stirred in their seats. It was the kind of question that was too easy to want to answer, so they all waited for the others.

Finally, Randall, a boy whose parents were both manual laborers, raised his hand. “The Age of Madness was a time of chaos. Empress Bethany Anne had left the earth to travel the stars some time before. And in her absence, war had broken out dropping humanity into the Second Dark Ages.

“It was after her leaving that the Kurtherian nanocytes had affected most of humanity over generations, changing the world forever. Humans, for the most part, weren’t prepared to handle the mutations in the programming. Michael had returned and stopped an effort by several mutated humans from taking over large areas of Earth.

“She had come back to Earth to pick Michael up after stopping the M’nassa and other tribes from attacking Earth and placing the Orbital Defenses around so that we could never be attacked again.”

The boy paused, then continued. “However, they left without understanding the issues with the changes to humanity. So, instead of giving humans a gift that the Kurtherian Tribe Essiehkor had envisioned—instead of allowing people the ability to tap into the etheric—the nanocytes transformed many into monsters. Ravenous creatures who looked like humans, but who lacked logic or sense of affection.

“The Mad had no love for anything but their desire to consume human blood to get at the Etheric energy the blood imparted. It significantly decreased an already lower population and plunged the world from the Second Dark Ages into the Age of Madness.”

“Good,” Catherine said. “And how did the Age of Madness come to an end?” she asked.

Melissa, a girl in the front row, looked up and spoke without raising her hand. “The Founder appeared. He was a man of great power and could cure humanity of the Madness. He taught them how to control the desires within them. And in doing so, he showed them how to tap into the etheric and produce magic.”

Catherine felt a chill run down her spine upon hearing her student’s words. She had taught them well, and they were now ready to push into harder lessons.

“That’s right. And today, we pick up where that story ends. The Founder was only the beginning of the Age of Magic. He had an important role to play, but his gift was but the Genesis of our world. In the end, he would not be nearly as important as the one who came after him.”

All the students leaned in. She was blessed to have such a hungry group. They’d been waiting all year for the good stuff, and it was time for Catherine to give it to them.

This is exactly what she was ready to do.

“I’m sure all of you have heard the legends, but today we are going to learn the true story of the Hero of Magic. How she rose from nothing to become the most powerful magician the world had ever known to that point and—more importantly—how she used that magic to vanquish evil from our land. She led us out of the darkness and into the time of peace that we all now know.

“It is time to tell you the truth… about her.”

CHAPTER ONE

Hannah didn’t know it, but in a few more minutes, her future would be changed.

Forever.

And how could she have known? It was a day like any other. She and her brother William were on their way to the park in uptown Arcadia, the one clean place they could enjoy themselves in this crowded, sweaty city. Their weekly trip to the beautiful lawn was the only thing in her long, hard days she had to look forward to.

Being with her fifteen-year-old brother was, in ways, the only time she truly felt human.

Turning the corner onto the Street of the Patriarch, William suddenly stopped.

Hannah turned, allowing a little impatience to color her voice. “Let’s go, Will. We don’t have much time.”

Her brother stared off into the distance, his small face ashen, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Go ahead, Hannah. I… I don’t feel so good. I’ll catch up. I think I might need some—”

Mid-sentence, her brother dropped to the ground. Hannah scrambled back to his side. Eyes rolled back into his head. Her brother, five years younger, started to tremble.

“William?” She checked over his body, her voice rushed out, “Will, this isn’t funny.” The words rushed out at the end.

His trembling turned to shaking, which transformed into full-body spasms. William’s arms tightened against his chest, and his legs kicked like wild beasts. Drool leaked from the side of his mouth.

Someone was screaming his name, repeatedly, “William, WILLIAM!”

But, her screams were accomplishing nothing. His ashen color started to turn, not back to his usual pink, but blue.

Her heart pounding in her ears, Hannah fought back fear and tried to think. Pulling him into her arms, rocking him, she whispered desperately, “Breathe, William, breathe, breathe!”

She looked around, frantically. “Help me. Somebody help me!” All around the bustling square, the early evening market goers streamed right by them noticing nothing amiss. Hannah wasn’t surprised—this city had little room to care for people like them—but their indifference made her angry nonetheless.

Unable to hold herself together, Hannah shouted upwards into the empty sky. Anger swept through her body, electrifying the ends of her arms as people continued stepping around her and her convulsing brother.

****

Hey, everyone! Chris here, and I get to drop a note at the end of the snippet.

Right now I’m sitting in a hotel room in Asheville, NC. My legs are aching from a six mile hike up the side of a mountain. I spent the day chasing my wife to the top and then back down again. I’ve been chasing her for 13 years!

Given much of the hike was in silence, I had plenty of time to take in the natural landscape while also thinking about Hannah, her brother, and the fight for Irth!

I also just kept thinking about how excited we are to get this novel out into the world.

We hope you enjoy this first snippet and will check out Restriction: Rise of Magic, Book 1. Read snippet two here.

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Cheers,

Chris

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Chris and Lee have been hard at work, and we are pleased to announce that in the coming days, we’ll be releasing the first book in their new series: Restriction: The Rise of Magic.

This project has been a special undertaking, as for the first time they are teaming up with Michael Anderle, the creator of The Kurtherian Gambit series. Over the last several months, Michael has invited several authors to write in his world… and we were among them!

A snippet is coming soon, so stay posted. Don’t want to miss a single detail?

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