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Title:
Ashes to Ashes
Series:
The Scribing of Ishitar
Author name/pseudonym:Carrie F. Shepherd
ISBN/ASIN:
0692023402
Release date: 06/12/2014
Formats: Paperback / Kindle
Prices: Kindle $2.699, paperback $13.95
Blurb:
Exiled from the Sixty Realms at the end of the Second Revolution, Iykva, one of the demons sent to propagate a new mortal race, longs for equality between his people and those of the exiled angels. Believing the key to this equality lies within the blood of his enemy, he strikes war on the first born of the race of the elves. Caught up in his parents' game to claim the ultimate power, Ishitar dismisses this mortal war as unimportant to his strategy of placing his own pawn upon his father's throne. Will the cost that he eventually pays for his ignorance be worth what little advantage he has gained on the kings' board?
Brief extract:
Iladrul awoke with a start.
Someone was screaming in horrific agony.
At first, he was confused regarding where the cries were coming from. He realized, quickly enough, that they echoed through the open doors which led from his bedchamber to the long balcony that stretched along the full length of the castle.
His father had warned him time and again not to sleep with the doors open, but it was the middle of summer and the evening had been sweltering. Iladrul, who had just seen the end of his seventy fifth spring, was still young enough to be overly confident where his immortality was concerned. As such, the adolescent elf had assumed that his father—who bordered on paranoid when it came to the boy’s wellbeing—was behaving overly controlling.
Now, terrified, he sat upright in his ornate bed, clinging to his blankets as he pulled them under his chin. His emerald eyes, wide as saucers, stared wildly toward the marble which made up the balcony’s floor. Two heinous shadows danced within the moonlight, black against the white marble of the tiles.
At first the silhouettes—both with bodies of men or elves, but sporting great wings that sprang from their shoulder blades—hung in the air, facing each other. The thunderous beating of those wings drove an arrow of terror through his heart.
With a great cry, the shadow on the left bent swiftly forward and began charging at the shadow on the right. Iladrul watched as one of the winged creatures flew past his open doors, its long blonde hair streaming behind it and its great black, feathery wings horizontal to its long, lithe body. Its arms were outstretched with its white fingers curled into claws. The expression on its shadowed profile was ugly with the twisting rage and murderous intent that it wore clearly upon every line of its face.
Once it was past the open doorway it crashed into the second figure. This one joined with screams of its own.
Iladrul watched with wide eyes as the two shadows collided. He wondered which of his father’s friends would die defending him from the blonde haired demon. He was helpless to look away as the shadows twisted and turned in a clawing, fighting rage.
Soon the shadows loomed closer. As they passed Iladrul’s open door, the young elf’s fears intensified.
It wasn’t an angel that the blonde haired demon was fighting. It was one of his kindred; another demon.
Iladrul understood, in his repugnance, that, no matter which of the battling figures won their hand to hand combat, his life was forfeit.
He threw away his blankets and flung himself to the floor. As swiftly as possible, he crawled under the bed and reached for the nearest blanket to pull it down as a shield that he could hide behind. He forced himself to lie as still as he could and he prayed to whatever God would listen that, no matter which of the two demons won their fight, they would not hear the pathetic sound of his fearful breathing.
Die proud, Iladrul, Wisterian and the other warriors always counseled him, or don’t bother to die at all. An elf who cannot die proud deserves to be damned to live with his cowardice.
There was a final screech. It seemed to stretch into antiquity.
When the shrill cry ended, there was deafening silence.
Iladrul’s heart was beating wildly and his shoulder length, copper hair became damp with sweat. He swallowed and curled into a ball as he listened to the silence echoing like thunder around him. He wished desperately that he had, for once in his pathetic young life, actually listened to his father and done as he had been told.
The sound of booted feet upon the marble tile almost made him cry out, but he swallowed his scream lest the demon who had won the argument hear him. He listened as the steps came closer, stopping at the patio door and then resuming themselves as the creature walked with purpose to his bed.
Iladrul laid his head on the side so he could see through the small crevice between the blanket and floor. Swallowing another scream, he looked upon the victor.
The demon’s face, though its lines were shadowed and its features difficult to make out, was streaked with blood. His long blonde hair was matted with gore. His nostrils were flared wide and his eyes—wild, cobalt blue eyes that seemed to glow in the dark against his preternaturally pale skin—were darting angrily around the room.
The demon took a long, deep breath, his nostrils widening further. Smelling Iladrul, his head bent downward as his full, red lips parted in a crazed grin which exposed two long, gruesome fangs.
In a flash the monster bent forward and flung the blanket to the corner of the room.
Now, for all the good that it would do him, Iladrul did scream as the demon grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him out of his hiding place and flung him like a limp rag doll onto his bed.
The demon advanced on him, covering him and grabbing him by the shoulders. He began to shake Iladrul angrily as his wild blue eyes traced every inch of the young elf’s face. What Iladrul could make out of his gruesome smile grew wider.
“What is wrong with you, you Gods be damned boy?!” The demon’s voice was like ice, cutting through the room and chilling Iladrul to the bone. “I know that you were not born stupid! Can you not use the good sense that the Gods have given you?”
Iladrul, openly weeping now, tried to scream. This time it caught in his throat without his intent.
“You could have been killed, you idiot!” The demon raged at him, his face still shadowed. “And what would have become of your race then?”
Iladrul was unable to speak. He could only look up at the demon in horror. He was unable to comprehend the demon’s words given his intent. If the monster meant to kill him, why didn’t he just do so and have that be the end of it?
The demon let go of his shoulders in a final heave, throwing Iladrul violently against the headboard of the bed. He flung himself to his feet and stormed to the balcony doors. His great black wings were thrust wide on either side behind him. He grabbed each door with his blood soaked hands and looked angrily over his shoulder.
“Lock this Gods be damned door behind me.” He warned through gritted teeth. “Lest I come back here and put an end to you myself.”
The doors slammed shut with a great thud.
Iladrul, still frozen with fear, watched through the glass as the demon jumped, landed in a crouch on the patio railing, looked around himself and then leapt upward. His wings stretched wide as he took flight and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
The demon now gone, Iladrul’s sense of self-preservation returned.
He flew to the door and locked it, turning swiftly on his feet so he could return to his bed, grabbing the blanket that the demon had discarded as he went so he could bury himself beneath it.
Crying, Iladrul thought that it would have been better for him to have died. It would seem that he was damned to live his life out with his cowardice after all.
Review quote:
This is a delicious novel of the coming of age of a god and an elven prince. There are vampires, demons, angels, doxies, elves, and humans, along with gods and shape shifters, as well as other kinds of beings in this novel. All living together in dramatic, enigmatic, and loving ways, depending, of course, on the folks involved. There is a good amount of m2f and m2m action, some f2f is intimated, but as physical sex is fluid in this world for some folks, that's about as exciting as a jar of pixies.
Star ratings: 4.6 of 5 on Amazon
Genre:
Mythology, Fantasy, Epic, SGLBT, Adult
Ravenswood Press:
Mytos
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