New Release: Charms of the Feykin by Charles Yallowitz

I’m delighted to share details about Charles Yallowitz’ new release – Charms of the Feykin. More exciting Windemere adventures…bring it on!

Return to Windemere in Charms of the Feykin!

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen

To make a champion fall, one must wound their very soul.

Nyx is leading the charge to rescue Delvin and Sari, who have gone missing in the southern jungles of Windemere. Battling through the local predators, the champions are surprised when they reunite in the Feykin city of Rhundar. Instead of captives, the missing heroes have become the city’s rulers and are on the verge of starting a war with those that want to exterminate their new followers. Even with such a noble cause, Delvin and Sari have changed into brutal warlords that may kill each other and their friends long before they step onto the battlefield.

Have Delvin and Sari really changed for the worst or is there a greater threat pulling the champions’ strings?

Grab it on Amazon!

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Excerpt: Broken Bonds

Sari draws two daggers and sprints at Luke, slashing at his sabers in an attempt to cut his hands as he unsheathes his weapons. Instead, the forest tracker unclips the scabbards from his belt and spreads his arms to avoid the gypsy’s attack. The swords still sheathed, he does his best to deflect his former friend’s strikes while harmlessly smacking her in the sides. When a dagger slices his arm, Luke kicks out to knock Sari back. A hint of a grin on her face causes him to slow his attack, his foot aching as it bounces off her immovable body. Knowing he has to trick her, the half-elf runs backwards to get the gypsy to charge. Before she falls behind, the warrior lets her gradually catch up while remaining out of slashing range. Once Luke reaches the riverbank, he lunges forward and aims a swing at the sprinting woman’s knee. Forced to decide between taking a blow that would surely break bone or risk a similar injury by turning her power on while running, Sari tries to twist out of the way. She lands on her back at the forest tracker’s feet and curses when he pins her arms by jamming his sabers against her wrists.

Before Luke can tell the gypsy to stop struggling, an arm of water bursts from the river and bats him away. Phelan leaps out of the rapids and sprints at the prone warrior, his daggers lengthened by keenly edged liquid. The weapons sink into the muddy earth when their target rolls away, the ringing of drawn steel revealing that the champion is no longer restraining himself. With a flurry of stabs and slashes, the half-elf drives his new opponent back and whittles away at the watery daggers. Trying not to kill the Feykin, Luke delivers an echoing hilt punch to Phelan’s head every time the other warrior attempts a counterattack. Faced with the full speed and skill of the agile forest tracker, the outclassed hunter has various watery weapons fly out of the river. None of them hit the champion, who remains close enough to continue his barrage of muscle-rattling strikes.

Ducking to the side, Luke slashes at the other man’s exposed flank in what he hopes will be a crippling, but non-lethal, blow. The saber clangs off a patch of icy armor and a freezing tremor makes the half-elf’s arm go numb. A searing pain erupts from his lower back and he whirls around, the motion preventing Sari’s dagger from doing more than a long cut across his side. His first saber swings an inch over her head, but his second weapon leaves a gash up the middle of her chin. Enraged by the pain, the gypsy moves out of Luke’s reach and summons a massive hammer of water. She freezes the forest tracker’s feet to the ground before he can move, which allows the large weapon to connect. It repeatedly comes down on the warrior, breaking several ribs and one of his arms. Sheathing his sabers and remaining on the ground, the half-elf draws the stiletto and hurls it into Sari’s thigh. A look of shock is on her face and she stares at Luke’s battered form as if seeing such injuries for the first time.

Need to catch Legends of Windemere from the beginning? Then click on the covers below!

You can start for FREE . . .

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen

Or grab the $4.99 ‘3 in 1’ bundles!

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen 3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen

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Also Available in Single eBooks:

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
Cover art by Jason Pedersen
Cover art by Jason Pedersen

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Interested in a new adventure? Then grab your Kindle & dive back into the world of Windemere! Don’t forget an apple for Fizzle.

Author Photo

About the Author:

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

The Welcoming Committee – FF #23

Featured Fiction 2We fed on blind adventure, devouring each course it laid. It was nothing more than a game, a way to appease the adrenalin monster. It lived in both of us; craving violence and danger the way other people craved coffee.

Looking back we should have known it would lead to trouble. The very essence of our role in the government was covert and we were drawing too much attention to ourselves.

So, abseiling down the tall, expensive building in central London, I began to suspect our winning streak had just run out. The civilians staring up at us were one thing, but the bullets pinging off the side of the building were the real kicker. The only thing worse would be if someone reached the roof and severed the rope securing our line. Still a part of me craved the challenge of it. Clearly I needed a new job.

“Son of a bitch, that was close,” Chris said from beside me, swinging left and right to make himself a smaller target.

My eyes snapped to the building opposite and I caught the flash a moment before he did. The glare from a sniper’s rifle meant the fun was over.

“I think we get off on this floor,” I told Chris, drawing my weapon.

“I’m right behind you, buddy.”

Bending my knees I swung off the side of the building and raised my gun. On the forward swing I shot out the window and let my body follow the momentum of the glass. The landing was harder than I anticipated.

When I looked at my rope I saw why. A sniper’s shot had sliced right through it.

“Now that’s close,” I muttered, waving the rope at Chris.

He merely pushed a finger through the hole in his uniform to accentuate his point.

We were pressed against the floor beneath the ledge, keeping ourselves well out of the sniper’s sights. The rumbling vibration from the hall meant we didn’t have much time to hide, because we had company.

Chris reached over to drag the pack from his back. “This hard-drive must be pretty damn important.”

“What gave you that idea?” I asked, rolling my eyes at the thunderous sound of running feet.

“We could just hand it over and play nice.”

I fought off the urge to laugh. Hell, I didn’t want to make it easy for them. “Where’s the fun in that. Besides, they’d take it, and then shoot you in the head.”

The grin was quick and arrogant; his green eyes dancing with merriment. “Nah, I’m bullet proof.”

“I told you we should have brought more weapons,” I muttered ignoring him to roll towards one of the desks.

Chris’ hand went inside the backpack to bring out his favourite knife. “Have this, pretty boy. Those bullet won’t last forever.”

Our welcoming committee took that moment to announce their arrival. It was fairly predictable; bursting in with all guns blaring like someone had yelled ‘Action.’ Only this wasn’t a set and the redecoration costs were going to cost a fortune. Not that I gave a damn. I had other concerns, like staying alive for example.

I tapped the mic on my black shirt. “It’s been fun,” I said, meeting Chris’ eyes. I knew the earpiece would pick up my words despite the deafening boom of gunfire.

“See you on the other side, my friend.” He moved quickly, rolling between the furniture like a gymnast and firing his gun with perfect aim. Three men hit the ground in quick succession, and I couldn’t help but pause to admire his handy work.

Me, I’m a bare knuckles kind of guy, but I roll with the punches; pun intended.

I crawled into position and, as five men rushed forward, I slung my leg out. The first brave soldier went down hard. He twisted at the last minute, his finger seizing on the trigger and sending a wave of bullets into the ceiling. Thank God he hadn’t fallen onto his side, I thought, although I didn’t get off pain free. A chunk of ceiling tile fell down and caught me right on the back of the skull.

I fired into the guy on the floor before he could swing my way and took out the two directly behind him, ducking out of the way when another opened fire. Talk about unfriendly.

Chris, always ready to back me up, disengaged two more without breaking his stride. If we got out of this alive I knew he would ride me all evening for saving my ass.

When we were crouched over the bodies of seven men five minutes later, alarm bells began ringing in my head. We were two of the best trained killers in the business and it was nowhere close to our record, but something sure as hell wasn’t right with the picture.

“That was too easy,” I said, swinging my eyes in Chris’ direction.

“Shit,” he muttered, jumping on board. “They were a distraction weren’t they?”

He spun on his heel, eyes narrowed for a moment as he surveyed the room. His gaze honed in on the only computer in the room that wasn’t decorated in bullets, and a second later he was moving.

Plugging in the hard-drive we’d been sent in to retrieve, he brought up the goods. As I stared at the contents in the file I felt a cold chill creep up my spine. Only two files were saved on the terabyte of data and each name was a death certificate; Drake Joshua Tobias and Christopher Theodore Mills. Every mission, every one of our kills was right there in black and white.

“They wanted us to find this,” Chris muttered a moment before he put a bullet in the computer screen.

“Which means that they,” I nodded over my shoulder. “Were just the warm up act, and our contract has just been terminated.”

“I never liked the job anyway.”

I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, just as the other window blew out and our new guests arrived.