Hello!
Happy Friday! This past weekend I was at Gen Con in Indianapolis, and it was fantastic (as usual). I sold slightly less than the previous year, but I still did great. My friend (M.L. Wang) sold 500+ books. How awesome is that?
I'm home for the next few weekends until Dragon Con. I also just got my tentative panel schedule for the show, so here it is:
Friday at 7PM - Witchcraft Beyond Hogwarts
Saturday at 1PM - Let's Talk Tropes
Sunday at 11:30AM - Books that Changed the World
Outside of those panels, you can find me in the vendor hall at the Sidestreet Book Market where I'll be selling/signing books. And we have the amazing Matt Dinniman in our booth this year, so be sure to come by and see all the things!
In other news, I received my book order from the printer for my Bound by Blood Kickstarter campaign, and... half of them are no good. They had issues like small pieces of missing foil, bubbling along the spine, and one even had 2 cut marks across the entire cover, front to back! Not sure how that passed QA, ha!
Anyway, the printer is printing new copies, so fulfillment for some people has been delayed until the new copies arrive. Despite that, I'm still on track for the September deadline I gave people, so that's good.
The next Osnen campaign will launch in September. All of the previous volumes will be available, and this campaign will include a slipcase you can get for the set. I'm waiting on the proof copy to arrive so I can see how it turns out.
While at Gen Con, I was approached by someone from one of the gaming companies about possibly writing for them, so that's exciting. We'll see if anything comes of it, and I'll be sure to update you if so.
Below you'll find a giveaway with a chance to win 4 audiobooks and a 3 month subscription to Audible, as well as a sneak peak of Ash and Steel, my next book!
What I’m reading: I'm about to do a reread of the Dragonlance series by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman.
What I’m watching: I rewatched Bio-Dome while relaxing in the hotel at Gen Con, and watched Let's be Cops for the first time.
What are you reading/watching?
As always, a huge thank you for the support!
Richard
Summer Fantasy Audiobook Giveaway
Enter for a chance to win some audiobooks and an Audible subscription!
Launching September 9
Just like the last 4 volumes, this one will have all the bells and whistles!
Ash and Steel Sneak Peak
The morning light painted the Citadel in shades of gold, but the beauty of the sunrise could not mask the weight pressing down on me. It had been three weeks since we defeated Shadamar, and while it felt like an eternity since then, it also seemed like it had only just happened.
I still found myself questioning whether victory was the right word for what we’d achieved. Looking out my window, I watched the masons work to repair the hall’s shattered walls. Their hammers rang out in a steady rhythm, but the sound felt hollow somehow, like an echo of something that had already died. We’d saved the Citadel, yes, but at what cost? How many riders had we lost? How many dragons would never again soar through the sky?
The fallen haunted me. Their names were now carved into a memorial stone. I knew each name by heart, had stood beside each pyre and watched the smoke drift away.
Maren would tell me I was dwelling too much on the past, that we needed to look forward. She’d probably throw something at my head and demand I stop brooding like an old woman. But Maren wasn’t here—she was off doing whatever it was she did when she couldn’t stand to sit still. Running from her own ghosts, most likely, though she’d never admit it.
The wooden doors to my study creaked open, and I turned to find Henrik standing in the doorway. The Curate looked older than his fifty years, his gray beard shot through with new streaks of white. The war had aged us all.
“Eldwin,” he said, his voice carrying the careful tone of someone bearing unwelcome news. “We need to talk.”
I gestured to the chair across from my desk, noting how Henrik’s usually steady hands trembled slightly as he settled himself. “What word from the scouts?”
Henrik’s eyes met mine, and I saw something there that made my stomach clench with familiar dread. “Strange reports coming in from the borderlands. Deaths that don’t make sense.”
“What kind of deaths?”
“The kind that remind me too much of old stories.” Henrik leaned forward, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Three incidents in the past week. Farmers found torn apart, but not by wolves or bears. The wounds… they’re precise. Deliberate.”
“Go on.”
“That’s not the worst of it.” Henrik’s jaw worked as if the words were difficult to speak. “Our scouts found something else. Two days north of Millhaven.”
The silence stretched between us, filled only by the distant sound of hammers.
“A dragon,” Henrik finally said. “Young blue, maybe fifteen years old. Found her in a clearing, carved open neat as you please. Heart cut right out of her chest.”
Bile rose in my throat, but I quickly swallowed, forcing it back down. It left a burning sensation that made me wince. The dragon slayers hadn’t made their presence known since Shadamar’s defeat. I had hoped they were gone, but it seemed that was too optimistic of me.
“Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.”
“We know exactly who did it,” I replied, sinking into my chair. “Who knows about this?”
“Just the scouts who found her, and now you. I didn’t want to bother Anesko with this. I know he’s healing well and all, but… there’s nothing he can do about it right now. I figured we could brief Katori and decide how to handle it before the word spreads.”
I nodded absently. The Order was already fragile, morale hanging by threads. Some of the younger riders were questioning whether we had any future at all, whether Osnen needed dragon riders in an age where the kingdom seemed more interested in their own petty squabbles. If the slayers were active again…
“There’s more,” Henrik continued, and I looked up to see his expression had grown even more troubled. “The dragon wasn’t alone. We found tracks, signs that she’d been with her rider when she was killed. Human blood on the ground, drag marks leading into the forest.”
“The rider?”
“Gone. Could be dead, could be captive. No way to know for sure.”
My mind raced over the riders, trying to determine who it was. “We need to find out who is missing. Who was out on patrol?”
“Word came back an hour ago. It’s Nimara. She rode Lysera.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. I knew her, though not well. She was full of fire and determination, always volunteering for the dangerous assignments. She reminded me of Maren and had been among those calling for reform in how we dealt with the growing skepticism from the people of Osnen.
“We have to assume she’s compromised,” I said, though the words tasted like ash in my mouth. “Let’s change the patrol routes and warn everything to be vigilant outside of these walls.”
Henrik nodded. “I’ll tell the scouts to keep their mouth closed. News like this...”
He didn’t need to finish the thought. I could see it clearly enough—riders fleeing in panic, the Order fragmenting under the weight of fear and uncertainty. Everything we’d fought to preserve crumbling from within just when we needed unity most.
“We tell them the truth,” I said finally. “Not all of it, not yet, but enough. They deserve to know what they might be facing.”
“And if they run?”
I stood and looked out the window again, watching the masons continue their work. Stone by stone, they were rebuilding what had been broken. It would take time, patience, and an unshakeable belief that what they were building mattered.
“Then we let them go,” I said. “Fear makes poor company in a fight, and we’ll need every rider who stays to be here by choice, not obligation.”
Henrik stood to leave, then paused at the door. “For what it’s worth, Eldwin, I think most of them will stay.”
After he left, I remained at the window, watching the sun climb higher over the Citadel’s walls. Maren was going to be furious when she found out. She’d probably blame herself for not being here, but I knew her well enough to know she’d be ready to storm the kingdom and bring the slayers to justice.
The thought should have been comforting, but instead it only reminded me of how much we’d already lost, how much more we stood to lose if we made the wrong choices in the days ahead. The victory over Shadamar felt like a lifetime ago, a brief moment of light before the darkness closed in again. The Order had survived one war only to find itself facing an older, more insidious enemy.
The cost of victory, I was learning, was often just the price of admission to the next battle.
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