Novels
Copyright © by Carlton A. Lear
No part of this work may be reproduced or copied in part or in full in any printed or electronic format without author's written permission. This novel is a work of fiction. The characters, dialogue, and events are drawn from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, including companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced or copied in part or in full in any printed or electronic format without author's written permission. This novel is a work of fiction. The characters, dialogue, and events are drawn from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, including companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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The Hover, Cedric Book 1From very different worlds, sixteen-year-old Cedric of Flanders and twenty-two-year-old Pierce of England have no reason to cross paths—until one fateful day, a powerful countess commands Cedric to escort her to England in search of Pierce.
Unbeknownst to the boy, the countess is a scheming vampire and Pierce is prophesied to be the next master of her clan. She stands to gain untold influence and power were she to make Pierce a vampire and control him. But turning him proves easier than controlling him. Embroiled in the countess’s wake of death and destruction, Pierce and Cedric form an unlikely alliance and embark on a perilous quest to end her wickedness. |
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The Meridiem, Cedric Book 2After Cedric is rescued from the clutches of Lord Domitian’s henchmen, he travels north with his sibling rescuers. Along the way Cedric suspects that the two brothers are not who they appear to be, and their sister Adina is even more mysterious. As he learns of their magical lineage and guardian pact, his feelings for Adina grow—until one night, she changes his life forever.
Meanwhile, Lord Domitian’s woes are mounting. While grieving over the death of his beloved countess, his castle is seized by a rival vampire clan. To save himself and his castle he allies with the dreaded upyrian queen Žofie. The price Domitian must pay for her help is the formidable Adina. The queen intends to turn Adina into a vampire of upyrian birthright, combine their magical powers to defeat the west, and expand the empire. Domitian’s diabolical plan to trap Adina brings Cedric back to the place of nightmares—Vos Castle. This time, the dark powers are darker, the stakes are higher, and Cedric can save the future if only he can survive his past. |
Cover Art by Kit Foster
(SAMPLE EXCERPT)
893 Crows
Snow fell gently, steadily...
The frigid air smelled of smoky conifer and beech. The encroaching forest, which likely fueled and obscured the village I expected to find, was mostly of large deciduous trees with smooth gray bark. I waited for several moments in the stillness, watching, and listening for anyone. But for a red fox that sprang into the clearing, all was calm.
I moved toward the fox, and it scampered down a fern-lined trail through the woods. I grasped the saya scabbard with my left-hand and followed it. At the third bend in the trail, I caught a final glimpse of the animal leaping into a thicket. When I arrived at the spot where it had been, ahead through the trees I saw a small wooden building. I placed my right hand on the sword's handle, loosened the blade from the saya, and moved forward.
An A-shaped building with smoke billowing out of a narrow chimney looked to be a traditional tatara hut. Men were probably inside it, operating bellows and shoveling iron-sand and charcoal into a smelting furnace. Normally I would try to observe the steel-making process, photo-document it and take notes, but I pushed forward toward a lone raven’s voice echoing near what appeared to be the village center.
Just as I was about to step up onto a wooden walkway, I heard icy footsteps behind me, not many, perhaps three or four carefully placed. I turned and saw a figure of a man, his features obscured by a hovering mist. He pulled his long coat aside and slowly drew his blade. The polished steel resonated like a tuning fork, a sound as sharp as the blade appeared to be.
We faced each other, ashen figures obscured by mist and snow. The raven sounded again and the man smoothly positioned his blade behind his back and started towards me, slowly at first and then faster with each crunching step. I don’t remember drawing my weapon or evading his attack, but the distracting noise of clashing steel, echoing loudly, and the jarring sensation of muscle and bone, absorbing and exuding violent blows, roused a discordant impression of how my father had suffered at the hands of this lunatic.