Nyki Blatchley
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Nyki Blatchley is a British author, poet and copywriter who
lives just outside London. Alongside a varied career that's
involved selling books to royalty, care for disabled people and
posing for artists, he's had about seventy stories published
by, among others, Penumbra, Daily Science Fiction and The
Thirteenth Fontana Book of Great Horror Stories. His novel At
An Uncertain Hour was published by StoneGarden, and he's had
novellas out from Musa Publishing and Fox & Raven.
Nyki is an administrator for the online fantasy writers’ group
Fantasy-writers.org. He's also had numerous poems published and
has performed poetry and music at various venues around London.
This included frequent appearances at the legendary
coffee-house Bunjies, which in the 60s hosted artists such as
Bob Dylan, Paul Simon and David Bowie.
WEBSITE: http://www.nykiblatchley.co.uk
BLOG: https://nyki-blatchley.blogspot.com
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/NykiBlatchley
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/nyki.blatchley
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New Title(s) from Nyki Blatchley
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Kari and Fai, wandering teenage sorcerers and
lovers whose spells occasionally work, just want to relax in the
city of Jayen—only it's vanished. Things just get weirder when
they learn from a child goddess that the city's been catapulted
thousands of years into the future, and they need to follow it
with her to avert disaster.
But the future is more terrifying than they expect—a dystopian
technological nightmare, where a crack in reality is keeping two
versions of the city trapped. To save Jayen (and maybe the
world) Kari and Fai must venture into the Crack and confront the
mysterious Dweller within.
Excerpt
Word Count: 26500
Buy at:
Smashwords (all formats) ~
Barnes and Noble ~
Amazon
Price: $3.99 |
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A swordswoman with a love of wandering, Eltava
lives a nomadic life in a world of island kingdoms and mainland
empires, sometimes on her own, sometimes with her immortal
companion, known as the Traveller. These eleven stories
chronicle her life and adventures from an adventure-obsessed
14-year-old to an 84-year-old who still has a move or two up her
sleeve.
From acting as bodyguard for princesses to defending peaceful
communities from aggression, Eltava battles bandits and tyrants,
demons and unearthly creatures. But her greatest battle is with
herself, as she becomes more aware that she's growing old, while
her companion doesn't age. A search for eternal life ultimately
teaches her that life itself is a victory, however long or
short—and Eltava's going to enjoy every minute of hers.
Excerpt
Word Count: 78585
Buy at:
Smashwords (all formats) ~
Barnes and Noble ~
Amazon
Price: 3.99 |
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Excerpts |
Dweller in the Crack |
I
“So,” demanded Karaghr, gazing around the unbroken jungle,
“where exactly is this city?”
Failiu raised her eyebrows at him, jerking her head suggestively
at their guide. Her face looked torn between anger and tears,
and he reached out a comforting hand to her. She’d been looking
forward to reaching the city of Jayen and its comforts even more
than he had.
Da-Zheng, the guide who’d brought them all the way up the river,
stood staring around. Had the man brought them to the middle of
nowhere deliberately, for some nefarious purpose? It seemed
unlikely, from what Kari had seen during the journey of the
stolid, reliable man, but he put his hand on his knife-hilt,
just in case.
“I don’t understand it.” Da-Zheng turned to them, his pale face
even more blanched than usual. “This is the place. Jayen should
be here.”
“But it’s not, is it?” snapped Fai. “You’ve brought us the wrong
way.”
“No.” The Thaal guide shook his head, his eyes stunned. “It’s
all as it should be. The bend in the river. The ridge we crossed
two hours back. Anyway, we followed the road.”
That was true. The paved road was clear enough that Kari had
wondered occasionally why they needed a guide, although Da-Zheng
had been valuable in steering them through the customs of remote
villages.
“Could it be a different road?” he suggested. There must be a
simple explanation.
“I know the road to Jayen. There isn’t a route in these parts I
don’t know.” From anyone else, the retort might have been angry,
but Da-Zheng seemed to have no temper to lose. He made a broad
gesture to indicate trees, undergrowth, the riverbank a few
hundred paces away, the three of them standing in the steamy
heat still rising from the last downpour. From a distance came
an animal cry that Kari didn’t recognise. “Here,” the guide
insisted in his slow voice. “This should be the south gate.”
Kari pulled Fai closer to himself, taking comfort by giving it.
“So what are you saying? That an entire city has vanished, and
the ground taken back by the jungle since you were last here?
Just how long ago was that?”
“Last summer.” Da-Zheng was wandering around the immediate
vicinity now, as if the buildings might be hidden behind one of
the trees. “It was a thriving city last summer, and I’ve heard
no news of disaster. In any case, what about that merchant? He’d
been in Jayen, hadn’t he?”
That was true, and Kari cursed himself silently for forgetting
it. The merchant they’d passed on the road five days ago was
effusive about the prices he’d got for his goods in the city’s
many markets and the rare commodities from the north that would
make him even more when he returned to the coast.
That was Jayen’s importance, as a meeting-point for the road and
river trade that came from both north and south of the great
forests dividing the Thaal kingdoms in half. In spite of its
remoteness, trade made it a rich and luxurious city, everyone
said.
Fai trembled, and she was as pale as her dusky Errishi
complexion would allow, but she let Kari help her shuck her pack
before collapsing to sit on it. He joined her, holding her hand.
A speckled snake, longer than he was tall, slithered along a
branch high above, but took no notice. It was of a type Da-Zheng
said wouldn’t attack humans unless it felt threatened.
It had seemed such a good idea to go on a trek through the
jungle to find the city of Jayen. The Lost City, Failiu insisted
on calling it, though it was nothing of the kind, and the trek
was a stroll along a good road. Still, finding lost cities was
what you did when you were teenage outlaw sorcerers, and that’s
what they’d been since they were kicked out of the temple in
Errish for studying forbidden volumes. It was an adventure.
Da-Zheng still wandered about, looking stunned. “It doesn’t make
sense,” he muttered.
“All right.” Kari felt he should be positive for Fai’s sake.
“Could you be mistaken? I mean, the jungle’s confusing. I know
you know it, and there’s the road, but is it possible… I don’t
know, there’s another bend in the river and another ridge just
like the ones you know? Or… something?”
The guide looked at them blankly. He was an emotionless,
middle-aged man who hadn’t seemed flustered by anything that had
happened on the journey—not even when his young charges had
wandered away for an exuberant lovemaking session and got
lost—which made his attitude now more frightening.
“No. No, there’s no chance I’m wrong. This is where Jayen should
be.” |
Back to Dweller in the Crack |
Eltava: A Sword for All Ages |
Witch, Age 14
Eltava wanted to run down the broad, crowded street. Word had
just reached her that Searcher had been sighted rounding the
headland, which meant the Traveller was returning to Gar’rash.
The sooner she reached the docks, the sooner she’d be reunited
with the man she’d adored for all her fourteen years.
She had her dignity to think of, though. After all, she wasn’t a
child anymore. The boy’s tunic, stuck with sweat against her
developing body, earned her enough glares from the more stolid
citizens she passed, as did the sword and dagger slung from her
belt. A respectable young lady was supposed to wear a modest
gown that revealed as little as possible.
Eltava cared little what boring old people thought, but her
behaviour could reflect badly on her father’s business. She
forced herself to keep to a quick walk, only occasionally
lapsing into a half-skip, half-run for a step or two as she
threaded through the crowds.
“In a hurry for something, Miss Eltava?”
She turned at the voice behind her to see a man in the livery of
the city watch smiling at her. She was used to people
recognising her: partly for her status as a prosperous
merchant’s daughter, but more for her unusual looks. In a
country of tall, tawny-skinned people, like her mother, she’d
inherited her father’s ochre complexion and slanted features.
She did know this man, though. He was sometimes at the fields
where she practiced her swordplay, and he’d sparred with her
once or twice. As he was youngish and tolerably good looking,
she’d made a few desultory attempts to flirt with him. He’d
smiled and been polite but hadn’t responded as she’d hoped. It
didn’t really matter, though.
“I’m going to the docks,” she explained, catching at her breath
and wiping sweat from her face. “A… a friend of my father’s has
just put in.”
“Ah.” The watchman nodded, his face turning grave as he leant on
his staff. “That would be the Traveller and his… magical ship, I
reckon.”
“There’s nothing wrong with magic,” Eltava protested.
The man smiled again, though he seemed less easy than before.
“Oh, I’ve only heard good of him, make no mistake, but not all
magic is harmless. In fact, we’ve problems at the moment with
the wrong kind of magic. Heard of As’shias?”
“Of course.” As’shias was a criminal who’d been arrested a month
before. Eltava had heard all about the arrest, but no one would
tell her what the woman had done. “What’s that to do with
magic?”
“That’s because she’s a witch, you see, and she uses evil magic.
A young lady like you wouldn’t want to know what she’s done, but
believe me, she’s dangerous.”
“Well… maybe.” Eltava examined his face, and he smiled at her a
little nervously. Why wouldn’t they want people to know what
this woman had done—or what she was supposed to have done, at
least? “But she’s not dangerous in prison.”
“That’s the thing.” He stroked his sparse beard. “She escaped
this afternoon—probably used her magic to do it. We’ll be
searching for her till she’s caught. So you be careful, Miss
Eltava. Until then, nowhere in Gar’rash is safe.”
“I can look after myself.” Eltava laid her hand on her
sword-hilt. “Anyway, as soon as I get to the docks, I’ll be with
the Traveller. He can protect me from anyone.”
The watchman’s expression was doubtful, but he nodded. “I dare
say. He’s a strange one, with his magic and never aging, but I
never heard no harm from him. Take care, miss.” |
Back to Eltava: A Sword for All
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