Hi, I’m Hannah Gray Gordon, author of The Vu and I’m your host for this stop in the Hunt.
If you would like to find out more about the Hunt, please click here – http://vfcscavengerhunt.weebly.com/
Somewhere on this page is a hidden number. Collect all the numbers from all the authors’ posts, and then add them up. Once you’ve added all the numbers, and if I am your last author, please head to the official website and click on the ENTER HERE page to find the entry form. Only entries will the correct number will qualify to win.
The author I’m pleased to be hosting for Virtual FantasyCon’s Blog Hop Hunt today is Kat Caffee, author of The Followers of Torments saga.
What you need to know about Kat
Born in Houston, K. Caffee has a long history of spinning captivating tales for a wide range of interested people. One of her earliest memories is being lost in a huddle of adults as a kindergartener on her way to a church choir camp. Whatever she tale she had been telling was captivating enough the entire group missed a rest stop, and the bus driver proved to be very patient when the twenty or so adults all requested an emergency stop about an hour after the scheduled one.
After several years of running various role-play campaigns, K. Caffee thought her story telling days were done. She entered the work force, then school, but the stories were not done with her. The Followers of Torments saga ambushed her in tow thousand and fourteen with the ultimatum “write or don’t sleep.” As you can tell, despite a valiant effort to focus solely on school, K. Caffee lost the fight. And, now, despite still carrying an overloaded graduate schedule, she continues to write and more of the pukah who gave her the ultimatum in the first place are lining up at the mental doors demanding to be let in.
What free time she can pry out of the hands of her story and her school work she devotes to her two furry, feline owners, human family, and discovering new friends on Facebook, Twitter, or keeping up with documenting the various non-story thoughts she gets on her blog.
You can connect with K. Caffee on all of these sites:
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/PukahWorks
Twitter – https://twitter.com/PukahWorks
When you encounter a pukah, you can usually expect to have joy, laughter, jokes, and a faerie helper enter your life to add a touch of mischief that raises your spirits. However, not all are like that.
The Followers of Torments saga is the tale of one such pukah who has become everything his fellow faerie kin are not – a cold-blooded killer, a vicious fighting machine, and a slaver. The nameless child was born an orphan and reared in the slave pits of the Melkreschen Realm. It is from these dark beginnings that the tale grows and develops into a tale of personal discovery and possible personal redemption.
Along the way, the nameless one discovers that not everyone is as harsh or unforgiving as his masters, and that the goddess he pledges himself to is not the only deity who is watching over him. He also discovers who and what he is, and must ultimately make a choice that will radically alter his life, and the lives of those who are closest to him at the time. Will he choose to return to his comfortable ways, or will he choose to continue to learn?
Out of the Darkness sale links:
http://ow.ly/LvwAm – Smashwords
http://ow.ly/LvTo1 – Barns and Noble
http://ow.ly/LvTrN – iTunes
http://ow.ly/LvTBF – Scribd
http://hyperurl.co/Out-of-Darkness – Amazon
When the worlds were young, and the races still new, a nameless champion arose. From the darkness of his feral childhood, he struggled to survive in a realm where lives meant little and power meant everything.
Bred to fight in the arenas, will this nameless one be able to find acceptance among the freeborn who fear him?
Excerpt from Out of the Darkness, from the chapter “First Days of Freedom”:
Though he knew the routine of the Arena, he did not know what went on outside those confined walls. His sense of what was right demanded that he begin his exercise, but he was uncomfortable enough in these new environs that he resisted his impulse. Instead, he continued hiding in the shadowed nook watching the bewildering activity around him – the ebb and flow in the crowds through the area. While he watched, time passed which caused his stomach to wake and begin clamoring for its allotment of food. His throat answered with convulsive swallows as it began to become sticky with thirst. He ignored this with the sure knowledge that food and drink would be provided eventually. He did not understand that as a free man he was now required to provide these for himself.
As he continued to watch around him in complete bewilderment at the unregulated, unguarded movement of the crowds, a slight headache began to develop from the ever-present light from the ever-glowing buildings around him. The continual low hum of the crowds as people talked amongst themselves punctuated by an occasional screech from the nearby children at play added to the sensual overload and overall discomfort.
His dark-adapted eyes began to water once again from the (to him) punishing light. As he squinted to relieve the tear-refracted glitters of light, he felt a very small sense of relief as the overall intensity of the light dimmed. But there was nothing he could do about the constant noise. He tried putting his hands over his ears instinctively at first, but that only served to intensify the sound rather than mute it. He responded by uncovering his ears and hoping the noise would go away.
After several glass of lurking, his presence finally attracted the type of attention he had initially been afraid of receiving. A guard finally approached him with the air of supreme authority demanding, “What are you doing here? If you do not have business with the house, then move along!”
Nameless looked at the guard puzzled. Angrily the guard reached for his arm, “I said move along!”
When the guard’s hand touched his arm, the man finally moved. He exploded out of the nook, catching the unsuspecting guard’s hand and wrenching it around, dropping the guard to the street, and glowered down at him. Unthinkingly, his other hand struck, crushing the guard’s trachea, and causing enough blood to flow that people around him fled the scene screaming.
Some disappeared into the buildings, others continued up the street until they were out of sight. He did not understand what was going on, but his old understanding was that to live he could not allow anyone to touch him. Even when he had been moved between his cell and the Arena, or between his cage and the 71 Sands, no one had ever tried to touch him. This stranger had tried to grab him. To his Arena trained mind, this meant he had been attacked. He responded as his training demanded. Eliminate all threats, win and live.
Did you find the number? If you did, then click Kat Caffee’s link – https://pukahworks.wordpress.com to continue Virtual FantasyCon’s Blog Hop Hunt.