Book Review of “Aphanasian
Stories” by author Rhonda Parrish
Sponsored by Enchanted Book Tours
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Author: Rhonda Parrish
Genre: Fantasy Short Story Collection
Blurb :
Three of Rhonda Parrish’s beloved Aphanasian stories brought together in one collection for the first time!
A Love Story: Z’thandra, a swamp elf living with the Reptar, discovers a human near the village. When she falls in love with him, she faces the most difficult choice of her life, a decision that will affect the Reptar for generations.
Lost and Found: Xavier, the escaped subject of a madman’s experiments, and Colby, a young lady on a mission to save her brother, must combine their efforts to elude capture and recover the magical artifact that will save Colby’s brother before it’s too late.
Sister
Margaret: A vampire hunter and a half-incubus swordsman are hired by a
priestess to kill the undead pimp that is extorting, torturing and murdering
vulnerable girls.
About the Author:
When she isn't procrastinating or gaming Rhonda writes fantasy,
YA and horror. She also maintains a blog at http://www.rhondaparrish.com
and loves sushi.
Contacts:
https://twitter.com/RhondaParrish
Purchase
http://www.rhondaparrish.com/publications/aphanasian-stories
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1481249479/
Excerpt:
From A
Love Story:
"Z'thandra," he intoned
solemnly. "This council has no choice but to find you guilty of recklessly
endangering one of the village and causing him to fall into a pit and break his
arm. It is our judgment you receive five stones. May Phrake have mercy on you
and prompt your heart to sincere repentance for your deeds."
Z'thandra heard Ulda and Eerna both
gasp at the severity of her punishment, but the sounds came as to her as though
from a long way away. Her knees went weak and her entire body began to tremble.
She reached out blindly for something to hold herself up with and sagged
thankfully against Ulda as the woman thrust herself under Z'thandra's arm.
"You can't be serious?" Ulda
exclaimed pointing a scaly green finger at the councilors. "Five stones?
Criminals, real criminals, get less than
that."
Five stones. Z'thandra didn't hear the
council's response, or Ulda's if she made one. She was lost in her thoughts.
Five stones. She'd seen it done before, once. After that one time, the
punishment was so brutal she'd made whatever excuse she could to never attend a
stoning again.
Five stones.
At dusk, right before the magic moment
when the last ray of the day's sunlight slipped into memory she would be
brought, her hands bound behind her, to the sacred clearing. There she would be
made to kneel, in the center of a circle comprised of all the members of the
village who were able-bodied enough to make the short downhill trek. All those
who wanted to be included in the draw to be tossers would throw their mark into
the high councilor's hat and he would draw out the allotted number – in her
case, five. The tossers would have a few short moments to pick their stones
from those scattered around the clearing and then, in the instant the sun
slipped below the horizon, pulling its last tendrils of light down with it,
they would throw them.
People, reptar, were occasionally
stoned to death, but with a sentence of five stones the tossers would not chose
rocks they thought would cause that – they would aim to hurt, not to kill.
Those people who'd been stoned in the past were easy to recognize around the
village, they were invariably scarred, disfigured and broken. Their hearts,
their spirits and their bodies.
Five stones.
From Lost
and Found:
Long after her slow, even breathing
told him Colby slept, Xavier sat, gazing silently into the flames but not
really seeing them. The fire crackled and danced across the logs, causing the
shadows of everything, from Colby to the boulders that peppered the floor, to
move and twist at its whim. All save one.
His own shadow stood fast, resisting
the shifting light. Often when he moved to watch his slumbering companion, it
hesitated before following suit. After some time his shadow stood and began to
pace the small cave, though he himself remained seated by the fire.
"They're out there ye know,"
the shadow hissed.
Xavier let his head fall into his
hands and sighed. "I know. I hadn't noticed earlier, but the silence
betrays them. No insects chirp and no night birds call. I know
they're there."
"She don't," the shadow
stated flatly, jerking its head in Colby's direction.
"I know."
"I told ye ta kill the
guard. Least it woulda given ya a head start ‘fore they knew ye were
missin'."
"I'm not a murderer."
"Bah, ye don't know what ye
is," the shadow mocked, waving his tentacles derisively.
The shadow's dry laughter sounded like
a desiccated corn husk being tugged off the cob. It sent shivers down Xavier's
spine. He gritted his teeth and flexed the muscles of his tentacles, trying to
blot out the sound and looked back into the flames, thinking. Even his
tentacles stopped swaying and rested peacefully at his side.
The shadow continued to pace. Its
tentacles flailed violently around it, and occasionally one pounded angrily
into the palm of its hand.
"They're jus' waitin' till their
backup gets here."
"That's what I thought too. You
suppose they'll attack at dawn?"
"I s'pose it depends on how long
they bin waitin'."
"I don't think they were there
when I woke up, but I don't know. They could have been there the whole time I
slept, just waiting for a sign that Colby wasn't alone."
"If they've 'eard ye talkin' I
'spect they know she's not alone an' they won't waste time."
"Yeah, I expect they do."
Xavier sighed. Standing slowly, he moved closer to the mouth of the cave and
peered out. The sky hadn't begun to lighten yet, but the stars had grown faint.
"Kill 'em," his shadow
whispered, but Xavier shook his head.
"I'm not a murderer."
The shadow threw up its arms and
tentacles, in exasperation. "Fine, be a martyr, but don't ferget the main
thing 'bout martyrs."
"What's that?" Xavier
whispered.
"They're all dead."
From Sister Margaret:
Bayne could be a bit of a barbarian at
times; however, he owned the most unbelievable sword you ever saw and wielded
it with an unparalleled skill. I knew where to find him; he was as constant as
the sun, that one.
I opened the door to Llewellyn’s
whorehouse and took a quick look around the tap room. Haven was, perhaps, the
only city in existence where most anyone could be welcome. Only here could you
see elves drinking with dwarves, or reptars drinking with humans. Even so,
Bayne was never difficult to spot; even here, he stood out.
He had white hair—not blond like what
you might see on a pure human, but as white as bone—and his eyes were an icy
blue that made women go weak in the knees. Though he wasn’t beefy, I’d seen him
heft full-grown men over his head and through windows without breaking a sweat.
Rumor said his father was an incubus; if true, that would account for his
incredible strength. Then again, how do you ask a man if he’s half demon? Walk
up and say, "Hey buddy, you got horns under that creepy colored
hair?" Not a good idea, unless you worship the Goddess of Pain. I never
did find out how true the rumors were, but it didn’t matter: he could swing a
sword like no one you’d ever seen, and he worked for cheap if you told him it
was for a good cause. Yes, Bayne was the man I needed at my side for this job.
He was currently sitting up on a mound
of pillows with a tankard in his hand and a gaggle of giggling whores spread
out around his feet like a harem. I didn’t have time to admire the view; it was
almost midnight, and I intended to strike at dawn.
"Bayne, you up for a job?"
My voice cut through the inane chatter of the girls at his feet like a
lightning bolt through a tree. He caught my eye and nodded, and I took a seat
at the bar and waited for him to disentangle himself from his fan club. After
stepping over the girls scattered around him, he swaggered over to me and
plopped himself down on the stool at my side.
Review:
Intriguing mix of stories. I loved the mythological ideology behind the
stories. When I was teaching one of my
assignments was for my students to create their own world. It had to include the inhabitants, culture,
religions, etc., everything that you would expect in a world and then to write
myths or folklore for that culture.
These stories remind me of that assignment. I would love to see the world that gave rise
to these stories.
I think my favorite was the first story because it
was so self-sacrificing and loving. You
have to read it to find out how because if I told you it would give away the
best parts of the story.
I give these stories 4 out of 5 clouds..
This
product or book may have been distributed for review; this in no way affects my
opinions or reviews.
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