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Thursday, April 17, 2014

Promised Land: A Galatia Novel (The Galatia Series) by C. D. Verhoff #Fantasy #SciFi

Promised Land: A Galatia Novel is told from multiple view points. All chapters, except those narrated from Michael Penn’s perspective, are told in third person. Michael is the Official Scribe of Galatia. He’s in charge of penning Galatia’s history. Therefore, when he speaks from personal experience, the story is told in first person. Here is an excerpt:
I waited breathlessly, wondering if we were going to war. My brother through adoption, Mayor Red Wakeland the Second, leader of the displaced citizens of Galatia, sat in the center of a large nylon tent reading a scroll by candlelight. The star-shaped birthmark at the corner of his left eye crinkled as the furrows in his brow deepened in concentration. Surrounded by men wearing tunics, armor, swords and fur—he looked like an anachronism in a checkered flannel shirt and blue jeans.
In my sweat pants and frayed T-shirt, United States flag printed across the chest, I looked out of place too, but my thick yellow beard blended with the times. Razors were scarce here and men now had more important things to worry about than a mug full of whiskers.
“Every king, queen and chief in the West has signed this blasted thing,” Red growled. “They’re warning us not to settle anywhere in the Northlands, Midlands or Southlands, which as I understand it, means basically they’re telling us to go the hell away or we’ll be sorry.”
“Unfortunately, you are correct,” said Prince Loyl of the House of the White Rose. Except for the metal breastplate molded with the image of a rose, he was dressed in an unadorned hunter-green tunic, trousers, and suede boots. A circlet of silver served as his crown.
Having several brothers and sisters ahead of him in line for the throne, Prince Loyl was only a minor prince of the Kingdom of Regala D’Nora. He had become a regular sight in our camp. His inquisitive nature, Regalan good looks—complete with feline ears, retractable claws, and a manly face surrounded by a mane of snow-white fur—combined with an affable personality meant that he was well-received by our people, especially the ladies, but he always behaved like a true gentleman.
Our gadgetry and history fascinated the prince and his Regalan archers. Right now he was struggling to pull himself away from a Mario Brothers game on a laptop. He finally powered it off and gave the discussion his complete attention. Red often leaned on the knowledgeable Regalans for advice about a variety of topics, from politics to combat, or basic survival skills.
“In accordance with the Law of First Rights, the members of the Western Alliance are obligated to remove you from these lands in any way they deem necessary, unless you can prove the Galatians were here before them,” Loyl said. “As you know, my father is a powerful member of the alliance, and though he longs for an allied neighbor to help keep the Slivens at bay, the law aims his archers’ bows in your direction.”
“So I’ve been told,” Red said with a frustrated growl. “The only good news is that they’re giving us a year to vacate.”
“Only so you have more time to build up the city they plan to take away,” Prince Loyl said.
Red rose and ordered everyone to leave the tent, but yanked me back by the collar of my T-shirt. “Not you, Mike.” He motioned for Prince Loyl to sit back down too. “I want to bounce a few thoughts off you two. That way we three can sleep on them instead of just me.”
The rest of the men filed out of the tent into the night, letting in a cool breeze perfumed with the woodsy citrus scent of lavender. We leaned back in our collapsible Ohio State stadium chairs, waiting for the mayor to speak his mind. The sound of the camp—adults snoring, babies crying, and a woman singing Brahms’s Lullaby—drifted into the tent. An owl’s lonely hoot carried from the forest half a mile away. Autumn would soon be upon us: the crickets were already singing their funeral dirge, filling the space between each of their chirps with silence, as if they were meditating their upcoming demise. Or was it ours they sensed?
Short Description:  The last survivors of the human race are riding out nuclear winter in an underground bunker when disaster strikes. Forced to the surface centuries ahead of schedule, what they find blows their minds. Who can explain it? Two social misfits work together to unravel the mystery.
Extended Description:  After living in a posh underground shelter his entire life, Lars Steelsun is plunged headfirst into a mind-blowing adventure on the surface of the Earth. As Lars and his displaced bunker mates are led across the grasslands by Mayor Wakeland, a man of questionable sanity who claims to talk with God, they discover a primitive world where human beings are no longer welcome. Even more mystifying is the emergence of new senses and abilities from within. Learning to use them has become a priority, but his biggest challenge comes from the vivacious Josie Albright. Her lust for glory is going to get them both into trouble. Sparks fly when her gung ho ways clash with his cautious personality. Can they overcome their differences to find love and a homeland for their people?
May not be suitable for younger readers. Contains mild profanity, sexual situations (infrequent), and violence. 
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Genre - Epic Fantasy
Rating – R
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