Book Spotlight: Child of the Night Guild by Andy Peloquin

Today I have a spotlight on the new dark fantasy release, Child of the Night Guild by Andy Peloquin, first novel in the Queen of Thieves series. I have a look at the book and the author, plus an excerpt. Enjoy.

Child of the Night Guild (Queen of Thieves Book 1) by Andy Peloquin

"They killed my parents. They took my name. They imprisoned me in darkness. I would not be broken."

Viola, a child sold to pay her father's debts, has lost everything: her mother, her home, and her identity. Thrown into a life among criminals, she has no time for grief as she endures the brutal training of an apprentice thief. The Night Guild molds an innocent waif into a cunning, agile outlaw skilled in the thieves' trade. She has only one choice: steal enough to pay her debts.
The cutthroat streets of Praamis will test her mettle, and she must learn to dodge the City Guards or swing from a hangman's rope. But a more dangerous foe lurks within the guild walls. A sadistic rival apprentice, threatened by her strength, is out for blood.
What hope does one girl have in a world of ruthless men?

Child of the Night Guild can be found at:

Amazon (US)

Amazon (Canada)

Goodreads

Excerpt from Child of the Night Guild

"Are you sure you're doing it right, Seven?"

Seven scrunched her face, concentrating hard. "I'm doing it just like he showed us, Three. See?" She attempted to snatch the purse.

Three patted the oversized waistcoat Master Velvet had given him.

"I could still feel it. So you're doing something wrong."

Frustration mounting, Seven tried again, doing exactly as Master Velvet had taught them. Walk toward the mark. Bump into him. Dip two fingers into his pocket to hook the purse. Apologize to the mark and touch him with my free hand. Hide the purse in my palm and hurry away.

He shook his head. "That time, too. I can feel you pulling the purse out when you move away. Maybe you need to do it faster."

"I can't do it faster, Three. Not yet, at least." Seven clenched her fists in frustration.

He held up a hand. "It's okay, Seven. Give it time. You'll get it."

"Here." She threw him the bulging, cloth-stuffed purse. "Let me try again." Even as she tugged the purse free, the look on Three's face told her she'd failed.

Her friend shrugged. "Still felt it."

Seven ground her teeth. Master Velvet said this is supposed to be easy. So why can't I get it right?

Three tugged the vest over his head. "Let's give the bump a break for a moment." He pulled a dun-colored cloak around his shoulders. "What say we give the snatch a try?"

Seven nodded. The snatch required timing and dexterity, but she'd grown adept at it. She walked toward Three, brushed against his cloak, and lifted the purse from the hidden pocket, all without breaking stride.

Three's eyes widened. "Damn, Seven. I didn't feel a thing!"

She beamed. "Well, at least there's one thing I'm good at."

Master Velvet strode up behind her and took her small, muddy hands. "You've got good finger-work, tyro." He ran his calloused hands over her fingers. "They're quick and nimble. With the right training, you could become quite the purse collector."

"Thank you, Master Velvet." She flushed at his praise. It was the first full compliment she'd ever heard pass his lips.

"Keep it up, Seven. Three." With a nod, he moved to the next pair of tyros.

Three slapped her on the shoulder. "Look at that! You're getting there."

"Yeah. Now if only I could get the bump down properly." She held out her arms. "Here, give me the vest and cloak. You've got to practice, too."

As Three passed her the clothing, Twelve's shout echoed through the Menagerie. "Damn it! You're doing it wrong, you stupid sack of shite."

Two met Twelve's glare without a trace of fear. "How in the Keeper's name can I be doing it wrong, Twelve?" Two was taller than Twelve, though not as broad. "I'm standing here in this vest. You’re supposed to be pulling the damned purse."

"Well…" Twelve faltered, his face reddening. With a snarl, he threw the purse in Two's face and stormed off.

Three snorted. "Looks like he's not doing much better than you are, Seven."

Seven glared at her friend. "That's not saying much for me, you know. With those fat sausage fingers, he can barely fit his hands in the pocket."

"There you go." He gave her a broad grin. "You've got the advantage, at least over him. Just give it time and you'll get better at it."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, let's see how good you are."

"I'll bet you a peach I can do the bump better than you."

"You're on!"

Vicious, ruthless criminals are made, not born. Child of the Night Guild—an insight into the transformation from innocent child to thief and killer. 

Author Bio:

Andy Peloquin: Lover of All Things Dark and Mysterious

"I am, first and foremost, a storyteller and an artist--words are my palette. Fantasy is my genre of choice, and I love to explore the darker side of human nature through the filter of fantasy heroes, villains, and everything in between. I'm also a freelance writer, a book lover, and a guy who just loves to meet new people and spend hours talking about my fascination for the worlds I encounter in the pages of fantasy novels.

Fantasy provides us with an escape, a way to forget about our mundane problems and step into worlds where anything is possible. It transcends age, gender, religion, race, or lifestyle--it is our way of believing what cannot be, delving into the unknowable, and discovering hidden truths about ourselves and our world in a brand new way. Fiction at its very best!"

A Few of His Favorite Things

Favorite Books: The Gentlemen Bastards by Scott Lynch, The Stormlight Archives by Brandon Sanderson, Sherlock Holmes by A.C. Doyle, Warlord of Mars by E.R. Burroughs
Favorite Songs: Wrong Side of Heaven by Five Finger Death Punch, Prayer by Disturbed, I'm an Albatraoz by AronChupa, Look Down from Les Miserables, Shatter Me by Lindsay Sterling and Lizzi Hale
Favorite Movies: 300, Red Cliff, Shoot Em Up, Love Actually, Princess Bride
Favorite Comics: Anything with Deadpool, Wolverine or Doop in it
Favorite Foods: Hot Wings, Meat-Lover's Salad, A good sandwich (made by me), Yaki Soba, Sushi
Favorite TV Shows: The Flash, Daredevil, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Hawaii Five-0, Brooklyn 99, Firefly (too soon!), The Last Ship, The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones

Website: http://www.andypeloquin.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndyPeloquin 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andyqpeloquin

Amazon Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/andypeloquin

#FlashFictionFriday: A Tale Told in Winter

Today, here a small bit of flash fiction, set in the fantasy world of my book, Ruined Cty...

A Tale Told in Winter

On a wooden bench by the hearth sat an old man sipping a flagon of spiced ale. Around him tongues wagged in conversation and gossip, and the walls resonated with raucous laughter. Pretty serving wenches passed by him, supplying the inn’s patrons with drink and food while avoiding their groping hands.

The old man drank in this inn each night, arriving there for the first time at the beginning of the town’s winter season. Initially overlooked as a stranger, he eventually settled in as a familiar sight, slowly consuming one flagon of ale by the fire before leaving. Regulars to the inn knew him as Sarc and gave him a friendly nod, with a few exchanging a brief word of greeting. Most thought him harmless and lonely, but none knew the reason he came to the inn. Yet, every night he came, and every night he waited.

Tonight, as Sarc sat and imbibed his ale, a man stumbled into the inn, seeking warmth from the icy wind and blowing winter outside the door. He shook the snow from his cloak and then, by chance or design, he joined Sarc on his bench by the fireplace.

The man nodded to Sarc as he took a seat. “Good Eve to you, sir. Nothing like a warm fire on such cold night.” He held out his hand. “I’m Kalad.”

The old man met his outstretched hand with his own firm grip. “I am Sarc.” The old man tilted his head. “I see you have a Misthri emblem on your cloak. Do you hail from the city?”

“Yes, I lived in that city for a time, but no longer.”

“If I might ask, what brings you away from Misthri’s walls?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I left because of circumstances, and a sudden urge to travel.”

“Ah, the wanderlust. I know it well. I too, am on a journey of sorts. But still, it must have been difficult to leave Misthri. It is such a beautiful city, with so much creative brilliance.”

“Yes, yes, it’s the great celebrated City of Inspiration, home to storytellers and artists. Sing its praises, it’s the Blessed City of Shrines, guarded by the spirits. I’m familiar with all the official dogma. But, there’s more to Misthri than that, old man, much more.” Kalad chuckled. “I could tell you stories of that city, stories that you won’t hear from any approved Misthri chronicler.”

“Don’t be so certain. I know many strange tales from the city of Misthri. There is one in particular I think you would find interesting. Would you like to hear it?”

Kalad smiled. “Why not? I’ll indulge your whim, old man. Tell me your tale.”

Sarc gave Kalad a smile of his own, tinged slightly with a sad air. “This tale begins on a winter’s night much like this one. A vagabond from the streets of Misthri was caught out in a fierce storm. He took shelter in one of the Misthri shrines, welcomed according to custom by the three priestesses of the hallowed place.” Sarc paused, as he saw the face of Kalad pale in colour and then continued.

“Now this man meant no harm in his original intent, just sought a warm bed for the night, out of the cold and snow. But he had a dishonest heart and it whispered to him in the darkness. He tried to resist, but he gave in to his temptation near morning and crept from his bed. In the last remaining hours of night, this man slew the three mystics of the shrine and stole their gold and silver, coin meant for the poor of the city. Then this wicked man fled the city and vanished into the winter snows.”

Sarc stopped talking and watched Kalad tremble. “Is something wrong, Kalad?”

“Your story- how did you know? No one knew, no one saw me that night.”

“Oh, Kalad. You were in the spirit shrine of Lumin, Light of Winter. She was there that night. Did you think you could escape her retribution? You stole from her, murdered her people. She is coming for you, Kalad, coming tonight.”

The old man laughed and the air around him shimmered and grew cold. Kalad shivered. The old man laughed again as Kalad’s lips turned a faint blue and his breathing became laboured.

Kalad reached out his hand. “Help me...”

“Poor, Kalad. There is no help for you.”

Sarc’s cackle echoed through the inn and every person in the place watched him disappear before their eyes. Amid the screams and gasps, the front door swung open with a blast of icy wind.

In the doorway stood a woman dressed in a flowing white cloak and a silver dress. She had ashen hair and skin, with piercing blue eyes. She raised her hand to point at Kalad, who looked at her and screamed.

She slowly smiled, her face alight in satisfaction. “Hello, Kalad, you thief and murderer. You are mine at last.” She lifted her hand and blew him a glacial kiss.

For a moment Kalad froze in time, Lumin’s breath wafting through him. Then he clutched at his chest, keeled over and died, his heart wrapped in her bitter frost.



If you found this story interesting you might want to check out Ruined City:
 
As an ebook at:
Smashwords
Nook
Apple iTunes
Sony
 
In print at:
Amazon

Fantastic Fantasy: A Review of "On Dark Shores: The Lady"

My Book Review of On Dark Shores: The Lady by JA Clement:

On Dark Shores: The Lady by JA Clement is an enthralling page-turner and I adored the book. The marvellous story sucked me in from page one and the way the author weaves her narrative elements together, I believe she may be the literary child of Charles Dickens and Ursula K. le Guin.

In the town of Scarlock, a series of events are unfolding on a course to collide with unforeseen consequences. The thief Nereia and her sister Mary, the moneylender Copeland and his enforcer Blakey, the fence Mickel seem to be headed toward the mysterious forces surrounding the Mother of the Shantari.

Sometimes you find a book that is such a delight to read, you don’t want to pry your eyes away from the page; On Dark Shores: The Lady is such a book. You fall in this world of fantasy from the first word, swept along by a wave of mystery, struggle, fear and appealingly genuine characters. The author serves you a world you can almost smell and taste and hear, where people act from hidden motives, spite, desperation, honour, duty and even cruelty. There is an entrancing spell woven from every fibre, with characters scheming revenge or thievery, manipulating for their own ends, fighting to escape and survive. But still, a certain thread of hope or fate winds a subtle touch through the book to elevate any grim or bleak ambience, giving the plot a radiating spark.

The only bad thing about this novel is that it ended too soon, but as it is the first in a series I can look forward to more. The end left tantalising questions still pending and I’m salivating to read the next instalment. Lucky for me, there was a sneak peek at the next part tucked away at the end of the book.

On Dark Shores: The Lady is one of the best fantasy books I’ve read in a while, and I recommend you beg, borrow or buy this book. You won’t be disappointed.


 
On Dark Shores: The Lady is also available on Smashwords