Nightblade
Author
Garrett Robinson
Author Bio
I grew up in Los Angeles and began writing at an early age. After high school, I worked in film for many years. Then I went full circle and turned movie ideas into books, generating pre-existing properties that I could later adapt BACK to the screen.
I began self-publishing in December of 2012, and within six months I’d quit my job to write full-time. Now I’ve published more than two million words, and I have no plans to slow down any time soon.
Description
Loren grew up in the forest, born to abusive parents who see her as the means to a rich man’s dowry. But all her life she has dreamed of roaming the world as a master thief. Entranced by tales of brave rogues, she wants to steal from the powerful and restore honor to the oppressed.
When she meets a fugitive wizard, Loren seizes her chance to escape. But she soon discovers that the world is both more complicated and more dangerous than she had imagined—and that if she wants to become the master thief Nightblade, she’ll have to do it on her own.
Nightblade is a serialized heroic fantasy adventure. I release a new episode every Friday. Readers who love bite-sized chunks, where they never have to wait long, will love this series.
Book excerpt
She burst out the other side of the copse, exulting at the look of shock upon his face. She gave a cry of joy, but it turned to a yelp of fear as the man raised his hands, eyes glowing, and fire bolted toward her.
Loren skidded on her heels and crashed to the ground. But at the last moment, the man twisted his hands. The firebolt turned aside, crashing harmlessly into the dirt. Loren flinched at the impact, and though a wave of heat washed across her face, she shuddered.
“What do you think you’re doing?” said the man, the pale white glow fading from his eyes. “I nearly killed you!”
For a moment, Loren shook too hard to reply. The man’s shoulders heaved with deep breaths, his eyes fixed on hers. They were a curious color: a light brown verging on grey, a sharp contrast against the dark curls of his hair. She could see now that he wore a short blade on his belt and a few pouches of leather. But one of them was cloth, and it hung small and curiously heavy; it bore coin, Loren suspected. When she had composed herself, she stood and brushed soil from the seat of her pants.
“Why are you running?” was the first thing she could think to ask.
The man blinked as though reminded of something. He looked over his shoulder, but the forest lay empty.
“There’s no one there,” said Loren. Her own breath still came steady. It took more than a short jog to rob her of her wind. “I kept a careful watch as I followed. No one pursues you.”
The man snorted. “Oh, they do,” he said. “You may sleep assured of it and bet your last coin, if a gambler you might be.”
“Not yet,” said Loren. “But foresters have little opportunity to wager with wizards.”
One of his eyebrows arched. “Though ample opportunity to raise daughters with quick tongues and quicker eyes, it would seem.”
“You are a wizard, then,” said Loren.
“You saw my flame,” said the man. “It renders your guess less impressive.”
“A Firemage as well,” said Loren. “Your flight is curious, then, for who could you fear?”
He glanced behind him once more, and his feet twitched as though itching to run. “A man need not fear his pursuers to wish them no harm. Though it may look ignoble to flee, who would praise my honor if I caught constables in a blaze?”
Loren’s eyes grew wide. She cleared her throat and tried to look calm. “Constables? Are you…dangerous, then?”
His mouth twisted in a smile before barking a sharp laugh. “Dangerous? A slain patch of dirt lies to hand to prove it. Were I a touch slower, that patch of dirt could have been your remarkable green eyes.”
Loren blinked. “What about my eyes?”
“I mean no insult,” he said. “I said they are green, not ugly. I have never seen their color.”