The Blurbs that Be

 Are you ready for book three? Mage King will be out soon. Check out the others so you'll be ready; you won't regret it.

What would happen to you if you lost your parents at 17?

And then... what if they weren't your parents at all?

When Sean loses his parents within a year of each other he can't see past the tragedy... until he finds out his father isn't really his father... and Sean isn't who he thinks he is. Follow Sean through his journey to a magical world where he is royalty and his powers are only beginning to bloom... and family is a relative concept - evil uncles and all.

Prince in Hiding by Anna Walls is the first in the Making of a Mage King series that follows young Sean from boy to Mage King!




~~~

When the long dead kings gave Sean their approval for to wear the crown, they also gave him a mission.

…the thing is, they didn’t tell him what it was.

Feeling like a giant hand was pushing him between his shoulder blades and pulling all his nerves and muscles into a hard fist in the process, Sean was driven.

Accomplish what?

All he knew was that he had his dear uncle’s mess to clean up, and he only had until the snow flew to accomplish it all.


The sequel to the best selling Prince in Hiding!


~~~

As if the secret mission driving him to touch every section of the country wasn't enough, now he had another problem - a big one - and there was no let-up on the original mission.

Under his dear uncle's reign, things had started to deteriorate. Now Sean was left with no choice. With a heavy hand, he slapped back at the invaders, and then he had to rush on.

No more being Mr. Nice Guy. But such heavy-handedness has its own risks, especially when the mission comes to a head and all his questions are answered - as if the answers would do him any good.

Will he survive? Can he survive? Will he be what he was made to be if he does, or will he be a mere husk of himself? First he'll have to wake up.

The Making of a Mage King

How do the choices in out lives come about? Some children are subtly guided along the way until they start making their own decisions. Some of that guidance is not so subtle, as many choices are blatantly made, setting the child on a course firmly predetermined. In the most drastic cases, there is no subtly, only cold hard law. And sometimes a child is merely housed and clothed until such time as they take up the task on their own and move out.

Sean Moselle was gently guided through childhood in a certain direction by parents who half hoped the guidance would never be necessary, but they could not risk him not developing certain skills. He was encouraged to learn the art of fencing by stories of valiant knights, both read as well as simply recited as he sat on his father's knee. His desire to be just like King Arthur was more than indulged, but he didn't know the difference. His father was also in a position to instil in him the love and care of horses, as well as the skill to ride them.

In the first book, Prince in Hiding, Sean's happy childhood falls completely apart with the deaths of his parents under unusual circumstances. First, his mother seems to simply drop dead; no cause could ever be found. Roughly a year later, his father, a mounted police officer, was killed in the line of duty, Or was he?

Any other kid growing up in New York who lost their parents by the time they turned seventeen, would have been able to carve a place for themselves. It wouldn't be easy, but it would have been possible. 

In Sean's case, things were not so simple. You see, Sean really wasn't a native born New Yorker. Well, he was, but his parents weren't, and his parents also weren't the two people he had always called mom and dad. His real parents were the crown prince Deain Ruhin and his lady wife was Kassandra Barleduc. This left him with the unwieldy name of Seanad Éireann Barleduc-Ruhin, named by the custom of his people. His people, who were not here on this earth, nor were they even in this time. Where they were, no one has ever determined; they were just elsewhere.

There was no choice. With the deaths of both of his closest guardians, his other protectors had to take him back and teach him how to be the king he was born and bred to be.

You'd think that defeating his evil uncle and claiming the throne would be the end of the story, but in truth it was only the beginning.

Holding the throne does no good if no one knows. Sean's goal then was to go around and tell everyone. He also needed to set people in place who would be loyal to him and in general clean up his uncle's mess, but there was a deeper reason he needed to make this trek and time was wasting, and he had no idea why. For some reason he felt that he had only six months at best to complete his task. He told himself that it had to be finished by the time the snows came and locked down the mountain districts, but though that was the reason he gave, it wasn't quite right.

Once in motion, even the fastest pace his men could travel wasn't fast enough; he felt positively driven, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't cover the distance fast enough.

He took to expending vast amounts of magic, and striving to keep up the pressure on himself, but even powerful mages aren't indestructible. This is where friends proved to be invaluable. They kept him grounded and sane, and they made sure he didn't kill himself. They couldn't, however, protect him from his own dreams. As sleep turned difficult, dreams filled his nights with puzzles and premonitions, visions of possible futures, and possible pasts. Dreams that were just plain strange, and dreams of his first ancestor leading him to the fate he needed to meet, and yet still not telling him what that fate was.

Now we get to the interesting part. Pieces have been in motion since the first book. Cities have fallen and enemy forces have been helping themselves to the magical populous of Ruhin, seeking to use them for their own ends. Sean, needs to act. He needs to find the stolen and hold accountable those who took them. But that didn't relieve him of his original mission, so he had to act quickly, and brutally. He had no time to be nice, to be diplomatic, to hold court and judge war crimes.

With haste, he rounded up his armies and pointed them at their marks, and then he gathered up the closest of his uncle's nastiest warriors and led them against yet another target. War is never pretty, and Sean made no effort to try. And then he had to protect his borders, and more magic was the only answer.

The magic to protect his borders was a balm to his tortured soul after using so much magic to kill his enemies. But now that the war was over, his original task still loomed. Even though he was nearly finished, snows threatened, time was running out. He pushed on as hard as ever while still trying very hard to remain human, to stay that boy who grew up in New York, raised by a man named Moselle. It was a connection he never wanted to jeopardize, it was a memory that kept the overwhelming power of magic that coursed through his veins from turning him into something akin to his uncle.

Then at one point shortly before being able to make it to all of his districts, time ran out. Snow blanketed the landscape and Sean had to use all of the magic his land had to offer to save the world.

Yeah, I'm going to be mean and make you read the book to find out how he did that, and of course there's the bit after that - something to do with the birth of his son and dealing out a little overdue justice.

Book 3 will be available in June.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Magic

I got my first 2-star review ever the other day, but though it was low, I won't call it a bad review. He went to the trouble of enumerating what he thought my book lacked and that's great. Mostly, he saw cliches everywhere he looked. One of the first things I heard was that every story possible has already been told, all you can do is mix it up a bit and tell it anyway. Something I hope I've done. But that's not what this post is about. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and all I can do is hope to learn something from every bit of feedback. What I want to address is his comment about the magic.

"Magic is uninspiring and not explained well or described in any meaningful way. The main pretty much just does stuff with no take on how he does them or even what it looks like. Things are never really shown you are just kind of told he does such and such."

The way I see magic is that it is a skill of the mind. My character does not live in Harry Potter's world where magic requires certain moves with a wand accompanied by a properly pronounced word. Though I've never seen it, Uri Geller could move objects and bend spoons. He didn't need to do anything but concentrate on his desired task and it happened. This is how I see magic as it is portrayed in Prince in Hiding.

Early on, Sean was advised to learn how to work his magic without the use of his hands. I can see a beginner wanting to reach out and pick up a stone with his hand while intending that the actual task be accomplished with only his mind. And yet I can also anticipate his need to keep his actions secret, or maybe it's just a matter that his hands are preoccupied in some other way.

And finally, what does magic look like? You don't even 'see' magic in Harry Potter's world. There's no sparkly zing of lights that stream off the tip of the wand and lights up whatever it hits. In The Sorcerer's Stone, when Hermione was being attacked by the troll, Ron lifted it's club up out of it's hand. There was nothing to see but his word, the wave of his wand, and the club levitated. Take away the wand and the word, and you have the same thing in my book.

So tell me, if you were to be able to do magic, how would you do it? Really, I'm curious. How do you see the skill of being able to work magic? Everyone's idea or view of the subject is different. What's yours?

August's Sales, a Month of Record-Breakers

This month has been a record breaker for me. On the 6th, my publisher told me I'd sold 25 copies already this month and at that rate I might rival the record in-house sales for a single calendar month. Now, the fact that I'd sold 25 books was really awesome news. The fact I'd sold them in only a week was even better. Dare I hope such a thing could continue?

Shortly after that, I was able to order a box, and as soon as it arrived I sold 2 to my boss and 2 over at the neighbor's lodge. I gave one to my brother's oldest and best friend in exchange for mutual reviews. He too just wrote a book. Another I gave to the man who helped me tons with much of the sword work in the book. And then, low and behold, some people bought some through my website. I don't remember where they all went exactly, but suddenly I have only 11 here at home and 2 at work.

That's all so very exciting. For me it's kinda hard to wrap my brain around. My first book never did so well, despite all my efforts. I don't count when my sister bought a stack to give out as Christmas gifts, or so I heard as a rumor, she never told me herself nor did any of my family say they received one. At any rate, my biggest royalty check for King by Right of Blood and Might was $80something.

On the 8th, my publisher tells me I've sold 40 books and that I'm right on pace to challenge the best in the company, his own book Philadelphia Story, which sold 131 books in one calendar month. That's 40 book sold in only 8 days - wow! Also at that point, when I sold 4 more books, I'll have sold 100 total books since it was published. Doublewow!!!

On the 14th, I broke the three digit marker and reached 100 books sold in one month. What a mile marker for me. I've never been on such an exciting ride before. I always thought it was so very cool to have someone out there read and like my book(s), and it is, and every review is such a thrill. I'm so hungry for feedback, honest feedback - tell me what you REALLY think - it helps, no matter what you say.

Then, on the 18th,  he posts in his group (and I quote) "It is official - Anna L. Walls release, Prince in Hiding, is now the best selling book in any individual month in BCP's history! and it is only the 18th of the month - Congratulations Anna!" (unquote). So, I sold over 131 books Woohoo!!! Happy dance time. Oh wow!!!

But that's not all. Just yesterday, the 23rd, he posts: "And Prince in Hiding's rock and roll month continues with another milestone passed, Anna L. Walls PIH just sold its 200th copy of the month! Yay Anna!" Oh my sakes! 200!!! And that's only this month and that was only the 23rd. How many will I have sold by the 31st?

200 books sold - more if you count those sold before August. Will it continue? I can only hope so. There are 2 more books in this series. My son asked, 'so when will there be a movie deal?' I wish haha (but secretly I hold a tiny hope that such a thing will happen someday).

What am I doing? I don't really know. I just do what I do every day. Keep it all visible and pay it back whenever I can to those who help me along the way. It's the best I can do. I hope to be able to do a book signing this winter. It didn't work out last winter so who knows. Cross your fingers for me. Do you think I'll make it to the New York Times Best Seller's List? or something similar? Ooh who knows?

Making of a Mage-King

Have you ever had a series of dreams that simply dominated your life? This is the way Making of a Mage-King came about. As I wrote, my nights were rife with dreams of future scenes or events, and sometimes, though I knew they related, I had no idea how. You know how dreams can be? Twisted and nonsensical. Some say it's my muse. I've even heard it described as channeling, and it certainly felt that way from time to time.

I've posted about dreams before and how they fueled my writing most of the time. This story was by far the most loaded up with such dreams - actual dreams - with very little altering to fit the moment.

So here's the evil fun part: Though such dreams increase in book 2, White Star, and even more so in book 3, Mage-King, they are in all three books. I challenge you to find them. I'm not sure what I can offer you for doing so. I'd gladly sign your book but you'd have to send it to me. Course, I'd gladly do that anyway. I'm going to have to figure out how to sign eBooks too. Hmmm maybe I might be able to send you a copy of the next book if you find the dreams in the first book. I'd have to think on that. What do you think? Do you think you could find the dreams that fueled this story? Have fun looking.

White Star - Book 2 of Making of a Mage-King

Here's a teaser for you. This little sample is very near the beginning of the book. I'm going through this book right now in preparation for sending it off the the editor. It will be ready for you to enjoy early next year, but until then...

 ~~~~~~~~~~ 

That night Sean woke to the sound of Jenny crying. It might have been a dream, but it sounded so real. “Jenny, can you hear me,” he called softly in case she was sleeping.

He felt her startled surprise as soon as he spoke. “Sean, is that you?” she said. He could hear the tears in her voice.

“What’s the matter, Jenny? Why are you crying?”

“How did you know I was crying? I’m not crying.” Then she broke down again. “I’ll never see him again. I just know it. When I kissed him goodbye the other day, I knew it would be the last time I would see him.” 

“That’s nonsense, Jenny. You know I would never let anything happen to Larry.”

“I know that. And I know he won’t let anything happen to you either. I can say the words and I can believe them with the front of my brain, but in the dark, this cold hard dread wells up from the back of my brain and I’m afraid, Sean, I’m terrified.”

“Jenny, I’d let you come along, but this is going to be one long, brutal trip.”

“I did it before, when you took off on your wild ride. We all rode real hard trying to keep up with you. Mattie should come too; she was the one who was able to keep you in our sights.”

“Mattie’s there too, isn’t she,” he said, feeling the rug being pulled out from under him.

After a short hesitation, she said, “Yeah. So isn’t Armelle; she wants to come too.” Did he detect a little humor?

“No.” Sean sat up abruptly and Charles muttered in his sleep. He had taken to sneaking onto the foot of his cot. Fortunately, he hadn’t kicked him. “I need someone there with some authority.” He knew that Elias and Ferris would be running things, but the thought of putting his little Armelle through what he was considering letting Jenny and Mattie do, was just beyond him, but Jenny was giggling now.

“Armelle has absolutely no desire to put that much time in the saddle, besides – you’re going to be a father in nine months. She says that you better be back here by then.” 

Sean flopped back down. He was going to be a father. His Armelle was pregnant. He couldn’t think. His brides were all pregnant too, but this was just – different.

“Aren’t you even going to ask what it’s going to be?” 

“I don’t care,” he said, and meant it. His wife was having his baby; He was ecstatic. Then his euphoria was dampened by the echo of an old woman’s dying words, ‘Keep these two close to you. If you send them away from you…and there will be many reasons, good reasons to send them somewhere safe, somewhere you are not… But you must keep them close to you, for if you are separated, all will be lost. You will be lost. They will be lost. Everything will fail.’ “You’re not pregnant too, are you?” asked Sean, afraid that he already knew the answer.

“What? Do you really think I could keep something like that from you?” she said incredulously.

Yes, he did, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. For all he knew, Larry had been afraid to touch her since her miscarriage. Sean was reminded that there would be a reckoning when they reached Loire. He knew that Larry hadn’t forgotten either; he had seen him gazing off south a couple times when he thought no one was looking.

“All right, I’m going to regret this, but at least you know what you’re in for; pack up and have Mattie get the white stone from Elias; I suppose we should have some kind of healer along.” He broke the connection as he felt Jenny’s excitement. He was sorry for taking Armelle’s only friends, but he figured that he would call her often to make sure that his brides weren’t giving her any more hassles.

Sean’s night was shot, so he gave up and dressed as quietly as he could. Outside, he found Cordan stoking the watch fire; he was watch commander tonight. He waved to him and walked to the edge of camp to water a bush then he checked on the sentry posts. The cloud cover was thin enough for him to pick out the lights that were the moons, but they weren’t bright enough to cast any but the vaguest shadows.

Seth had the horses picketed all around and Cordan had a half dozen men riding casually among them and another dozen walking a foot patrol outside of that. The rest of the men were sleeping under small pup tents big enough for two bodies and little else.

Just as the sun was lighting the eastern horizon, he called Jenny again. By now, he was standing by Larry’s tent. Just as he completed the connection, he felt the turmoil.

“Jenny? What’s the matter? What’s happened?”

“You happened,” she said harshly. “I thought you weren’t going to get us. What took you so long?”

“Nothing, I was just giving you time to pack a bag. Are you ready?”

“Of course we’re ready. We’ve been ready for hours.” 

“It hasn’t been ‘hours’, not very many anyway.”

“Oh, just hurry up.” 

As soon as they appeared Sean put his finger to his lips and whispered, “This is Larry’s tent. I didn’t want to startle him.”

Jenny snickered quietly behind her fingers and peeked inside then she crawled the rest of the way out of sight while Sean glowered at Hélène who had come with them.

Sean led Mattie and Hélène back to the watch fire at the center of camp. Cordan watched their approach without recognizing them until they were quite close. When he identified Mattie, he did a stunned double take then said, “What are you doing here?”

“I brought them. They had an irrefutable argument for coming,” said Sean.

Cordan looked at Mattie for a moment longer then his eyes bore holes in Sean. “You sure make it hard for a man to have a family.”

Sean turned on Mattie; his frown was in high relief in the light of the campfire. “Are you pregnant too?” he asked.

She smiled sheepishly and nodded.

“Mattie…” Sean started, but she interrupted him. “My lord, riding a horse won’t hurt the baby; it’s not due for a long time. Besides, if I start to have problems, you can always send me back.”

“I’m going to send you back right now. We aren’t on a ‘ride’. What we will be doing can only be called a pounding.”

She stepped up to him and touched his lips with her fingertips. “I’ll be fine. I won’t slow you down.”

Sean looked at Cordan. “Your decision, man,” he said, and waited for the signal for him to send her back.

He just shrugged and shook his head then he pulled her to him and gave her the kind of hug that said he missed her a lot.

Sean stepped away and almost ran into Hélène. “What are you doing here? Who’s taking care of things back at the palace?” he asked. He was more than a little peeved that she was here. Though she didn’t quite fall into his definition of ‘old’, she was no spring chicken.

“Mattie said you thought you should have a healer along.”

“I intended that to be Mattie’s reason for being here, not yours,” said Sean.

“And if you get hurt again?”

“You said yourself that you weren’t strong enough to put me down, so what’s the point? I need you at the palace to help those people get well and go home.”

“Those people are in the hands of some of the finest healers in the land and I’m the only one I know who stands a chance of ‘putting you down’ as you say it.”

“I won’t wait for you; if you can’t keep up, I’ll leave you behind and you better stay out of my way; if you’re going to be the healer here, that’s what you’ll do, nothing else.”

She shrugged then pointed to his forehead. “Where’s your crown?”

“It’s the middle of the night. Everyone’s asleep.”

“Not everyone,” she said.

“Oh give it a rest. Next you’ll be checking to see if I wear it in my bed.”

It was fortunate that the sun was rising because their shouting match was rousing the rest of the camp just in time for a quick breakfast before they hit the trail again.

Sean strode past the fire on his way to his own tent giving Cordan a meaningful look as he passed. The slightest cramp, the smallest problem, and Mattie would go back to the palace. He didn’t have time for old women or pregnant girls. Even if one of the men fell ill, they would be left behind at the closest village or farmhouse, or sent back to the palace.

White Star - Book 2 of The Making of a Mage-King

A hundred and forty-eight mages had survived his coup. Most of them had been the sleepers he had shielded while they slept; a handful had been completely snuffed of their magic. There were also twenty-four non-magical survivors. They were the men who had fought Laon, or at least they would have, when they won through the door. Laon was responsible for an additional nineteen dead men at that door.

Laon had vouched that Sean likely wasn’t interested in taking prisoners, so the survivors were sent home, but home wasn’t an option for some of them. Like the one girl that had spoken to him, all these nearly twenty children either had no families, or their families refused to take them back. Shielded or not, their families and friends feared them. For that matter, Sean was sure the entire town feared them all.

Sean turned to his friends gathered at the table for ideas. All the ideas, few that there were, were unsatisfactory, so he went to talk to the kids.

The innkeeper had housed them in what he called the common room up in the attic. It was a room where guests could buy a bed for the night rather than a whole room. The innkeeper had insisted that their door was locked and guarded, or else they could go somewhere else. Sean had the guard unlock the door, and, followed by Cordan, Larry and Laon, he entered the room.

Sean’s entrance didn’t cause much of a stir. Only a few of the room’s occupants could bring themselves far enough out of their shells to raise their heads and see who had entered. The rest of them were in varying degrees of coil as they wallowed under Sean’s shield and struggled with the sudden lack of guild control.

Nineteen small bodies were here; all of them were dressed in the same plain gray shift the girl yesterday had worn. There had not been enough beds for all of them by half at least, but the room was warm, so they didn’t seem any worse for their confinement. Sean saw that more than one bed held two, three and even four children as they huddled together like lost puppies.

Sean had a guard remove the chamber pot from the corner and stepped farther into the room to sit down on the foot of the nearest cot.

The girl he had talked to yesterday seemed to be one of the few in the room capable of functioning; she might have been the oldest one in the room too. “You didn’t use any magic,” she said, as she watched the guard disappear with the chamber pot.

“I use quite a lot of magic during the normal course of events; I don’t need to use it for the little things too,” said Sean, when he noticed where her eyes had looked.

One of the youngest boys shuddered and started crying. The girl pulled him into her arms. “What are you going to do with us?” she asked, as she rocked the boy.

“What do you want me to do with you?” asked Sean.

She looked around at her companions. “We can’t stay here,” she said simply.

“Why can’t you go home?” asked Sean. “You said your father was afraid of you.”

“Yes, that’s the way it is for some of us. Some of us don’t have any family left. Some of us have the unfortunate memory of destroying our family.” She looked down at the boy in her arms. “Some of us… Our families fear for our safety if we try to stay.” She took a deep breath. “We didn’t have a choice. We couldn’t stop what was happening.”

“I know,” said Sean. “I’m sorry.”

“You could take us with you,” she said hopefully. “You’re a stranger here. You’re not staying – are you?”

Sean was afraid she was going to get to that. The alternative was to turn them into a cluster of street urchins forced to sell their bodies for food, or forced to steal, and if they were ever caught, their fate would be so very much worse than a common thief or whore might expect. Sean toyed with the idea of talking to their families; he might be able to decrease the numbers here by a few, but that still left the rest of them.

He looked at the little boy in the girl’s arms. Had he been instrumental in the destruction of his family? Sean saw a delicate red glow streaked with light blue. Had he been able to fan his flames wherever he wanted? It was likely, yet he hadn’t been able to protect them.

“You’re just kids,” Sean said, agonizing over the dilemma. “How old are you anyway, twelve, and I can’t afford to remove your shields, not yet anyway.”

Tears glittered in her eyes, but Sean could tell by the set of her shoulders that she would take whatever he dished out and cry later.

“We can still work,” said an older boy, as he pulled himself upright on his cot. His voice was horse and strained. “My…” he struggled with himself. “My ma… She used to insist…” Sean watched his jaw clench on a memory that was laced with pain. His face was thin and aged beyond his tender years. He might have been twelve – maybe thirteen.

Sean looked around at them. The youngest, the boy who was crying, looked to be about eight – maybe. He looked at Cordan. More than likely, he would be the one who had to deal with them most of the time.

Cordan shrugged. “We might be able to find them apprenticeships in other cities. We might need other mages too somewhere along the line.”

Sean looked back at the room full of kids. “Okay, we’ll leave in the morning.” He turned back to Cordan. “See to it that they are properly dressed and mounted.” Sean stood up and looked at the two who had spoken. “I have to cover a lot of distance in a very short amount of time and I’ll tell you the same thing I’ve told others who wanted to follow me. If you can’t keep up, I’ll leave you behind.”

“We’ll keep up,” said the boy, as he sat up straighter.

Sean looked at him. “The shields stay.”

“Fine,” he said. Sean didn’t think he was too willing to take up the magic again, not for a while anyway. He’d want it soon enough, earth magic could be very useful if you were used to it.

Prince in Hiding - Now on Amazon

What an exciting ride this publishing business is. My second book, Prince in Hiding, is now on Amazon. I sold five books during the week of pre-order status. I have no idea who bought them. Some twenty people joined the event on Facebook. One person said shipping was too expensive to the UK. I can understand that. She was excited to learn that an eBook version would be available. I heard from another person in a Facebook group I am a member of; she told me she had order the book and was anxious to start reading it. Now comes the next part of the publishing adventure. I know five people will have my book in their hands very soon, now I have to wait to see if they post any reviews. I SO want to know what they think, and I want to know what they REALLY think. My ego doesn't need stroking with good reviews. I want to EARN the good reviews by having told a good story well.

This summer I decided to sell my books from my website. The only time I can do that is during the summer. Today, I learned the prices for my ordering Prince in Hiding, and though it's predicted that it will take up to four weeks to print up and get here, I've received books sooner. Regardless, that still means Prince in Hiding may be available from me by the middle of next month. Would you like a signed copy of my book?

Of all the used books I've read over the years, I have never found a signed one. Does that mean that relatively few books are signed? I suppose considering the vast number of book actually printed, that is probably true. But I prefer to think that if a reader went to all the trouble of getting a book signed by the author, it remained in their possession to be handed down to the next generation. The very thought that a book of mine would be treasured in such a way by even one person is a humbling thought. I can only hope such a thing will happen.

What about you? Have you published a book, or two? Or more? Is it still exciting for you? Do you still thrill at each sale, not because of the royalty check, but because someone will be reading something you wrote? That is just the best, if you ask me.

Prince in Hiding - PUBLISHED

I now have more than one book out there in the world. Having been through this publishing process once before has only prepared me for the excitement, it hasn't dampened the excitement one whit.

In the super wee hours of the day today, Prince in Hiding made it to pre-order status. Available until June 1 through Bucks Country Publishing for $16.00. After that, it will be available through Amazon for $17.95, and like my other book, King by Right of Blood and Might, it will be available directly from me through my website for $20.00 as soon as I get some out here. The mark-up is to pay for postage. But it will be signed. Keep an eye out; I will be announcing it all over Facebook as soon as that happens.

But enough about the business. Now on about the book:

Isn't that an awesome cover? And the greatest part about it is the colors. You see there are six types of magic: Red magic is fire, Green magic is earth, Pale Blue magic is air, and Dark Blue magic is water. But I did say there were six. White magic and Black magic are both internal and physical. White magic is primarily healing, but it can also be seeing places and people somewhere else. Black magic is harsher; it involves controlling some person or creature, or causing pain or even death. Red or fire magic involves the control of fire or heat. Green or earth magic involves controlling or altering objects, or touching something within a seeing. Pale Blue or air magic, of course controls air, which can mean hearing something out of range, but also teleportation. And Dark Blue or water magic, bringing on a storm or calling water in a desert.

One of Sean's ancestors discovered that certain stones can focus certain of the magics. These stones, of course matched the magic they augmented and at some point, likely to facilitate carrying them around, he or she shaped them into circular wedges not unlike sections of an orange. All six stones put together made a fist-sized ball, just the right size for holding in the hand. Just right for using to magnify all the magics, creating a very powerful weapon. There must have been a need for such a weapon once upon a time, but what it was, was lost to a time before recorded history. The stones could be used individually too, to augment a particular field of magic the holder happened to be weak in.

Over the centuries, as people mixed and matched during the course of their lives, the magics became diluted. Few of the major families tried to maintain any strength in magic. The royal family was the strongest, but even they were only strong in black, red and green magic. There was another powerful royal family who leaned heavily in the other direction, being relatively strong in white, light and dark blue magic. The White House of Healers, in the hopes of balancing the magics within the royal family once again, encouraged the royal house of Barleduc to marry into the ruling family of Ruhin. They had high hopes that a child born of such a union would be strong in all the magics and therefore capable of wielding the stones the way they were intended, to protect the country and it's people.

Not long after the wedding between the crown prince and the young Barleduc lady, disaster struck and the very pregnant crown princess was forced to flee with only a few trusted friends and protectors. Prince in Hiding begins seventeen years later. They had been found. It was time to go back and reclaim the throne. It was time for retribution. Is the son of the Ruhin/Barleduc union the mage the White House of Healers was striving for? Will he be the savior they so desperately need? Only time will tell. You'll have to read to find out. I will tell you one thing; he gets the girl. But can he retain his sanity long enough to see to the next generation? You'll have to read the book to find out. The hard part might be waiting for the next book to come out. Due out about this time next year, The White Star, Book 2 in the Making of a Mage-King series.

A Collection of Three

When I wrote King by Right of Blood and Might, I originally titled it Quest to become King. I also tentatively planned two more books to go along with this collection. Since King by Right took place along the east coast, I figured it was only fair that the second book take place in the mid-west somewhere, and then the third book would take place along the west coast.

Long before I published, I wrote the second book. It ended up ranging between Chicago and The Salt Lake and Yellowstone; I had a lot of fun writing that book, titled at the time Quest to Become Whole.

Shortly after I finished that book, Quest to Become King made the trip to the publisher who's editor advised me to change the title. Well, there went my 'Quest' collection, but I didn't really realize how much trouble that simple change would cause.

Book 2 could no longer be called Quest to Become Whole - In an effort to keep with the rhythm of King by Right of Blood and Might, I changed the title of my second book to To Become Whole in Land and Soul. I don't really care for it but it sorta matches.

That all led up to the yet unwritten third book. What I've come up with so far is, A King Gathers from Land, Sea and Heart. I do believe this is one of the reasons the third book is being so stubborn. Currently, I have three ideas to plug under this title, or at least in this world, which is the main thing holding these three books in a collection.

Recently I learned that it was possible to unpublish from AuthorHouse, and if I did so, I could go back to my original title(s), which would make my third book Quest to go Home. It fits so well with one of my ideas where two of it's main characters have been cast out of their separate homes. It lacks the 'Become' in the other titles, but it's close enough. Plus, somewhere down the line, when books are listed under my name it might look like this:

The Quest Collection

1. Quest to Become King
2. Quest to Become Whole
3. Quest to go Home

The Making of a Mage-King Series

1. Prince in Hiding
2. White Star
3. Mage-King

Other Works by Anna L. Walls

1. The Speed of Dreams
2. The Fortunes of Magic
3. The Guardian
4. The Trials of the Youngest Princess
5. What Future, Slave
6. To Reclaim the Throne
7. Lord of the Land
8. Are You Brave Enough, A Book of Short Stories

I kinda like the look of that, don't you?

Prince in Hiding, Book 1 of Making of a Mage-King

Young Sean Moselle, sixteen years old, was leading a very normal life until the night his mother died mysteriously. He was just starting to function again, after a fashion, when his father died a year later, so very close to the anniversary of his mother's death. Before he could grasp it all, he was thrust into a whole new life, a life one only finds in movies or in books, a life filled with knights and warhorses and even a few damsels in distress, though not from any dragon. No, the 'dragon' in this case was his uncle, an uncle he never knew existed, in fact, his whole past wasn't really his past. Oh sure, he did all the things a kid growing up in New York does, mostly, but it was all a cover, and he never knew a thing. His father, Elias Moselle, wasn't really his father. His mother, Analeace, wasn't really his mother either. His real father was the heir apparent of a kingdom somewhere else, and his uncle had had him killed. His mother was so close to term that she didn't survive the escape, leaving the infant Sean alone in a strange land with an odd collection of bodyguards.

Young Sean wasn't just the rightful king of this strange land somewhere far away, he was very magical. As a product of some careful breeding, he was supposed to be very powerful indeed. He was handicapped though. Most children begin to learn how to use and control their magic around the age of six or seven. Sean was ten years behind; he had a lot of catching up to do if he was ever going to reclaim his throne.

But it wasn't the throne he went back for, nor was it the power that went with the crown. Only a small part of his reason for going back was revenge against the man who had deprived him of the family and the life he should have had. No, he went back to save the people from the so very evil dictator who sat on the throne. He was the only person who could stand a chance of pulling it off.

Ok, I know (now), this is so very cliche, but then again, this is pretty much where the cliche ends. Sure, he gets the crown, but it certainly didn't come around at the end of a long, glorious battle. No, it happened so quickly, so easily, that no one knew anything had changed. It wasn't until he started undoing his uncle's damage that word got around. But this is reaching into book 2. And along through book 2, we discover that Sean is on a much larger quest, one he can't puzzle out. Not only is he driven to undo the destruction his uncle went to great lengths to foster, but he was driven to get it all done 'in time'. In time for what, he didn't know. By the time we reach book 3, Sean is driving himself, and those closest to him, to near insanity as his nights were riddled with confusing dreams and his days were spent pushing his magical limits to the max. What is this bigger goal? Well, maybe I'll give you a hint, but only if you ask. But if you're at all diligent, the answer is on my website.

Prince in Hiding is coming out in October. Are you looking forward to it as much as I am?

Prince in Hiding - Coming out in October

Sixteen-year-old Sean stood in the queue, waiting his turn to compete with the saber. He looked up at the bleachers. He had no problem locating his dad; his parents sat in the same place every time. His dad was talking to their flat mate, Gordon. His mom couldn’t make it this time – she had to work. Every year since Sean’s first tournament, his parents gave him a choice. Since the tournament and his birthday were generally only a few days apart, Sean got to pick which event his parents would attend, since it was impossible for them to get both days off from work. Sean thought of a compromise. He really wanted them to watch him compete, so, as a birthday present of sorts, they could take him out for a special dinner afterward.

When Sean, Gordon, and his father returned home that evening, they were greeted by a squad car waiting in front of their apartment building.

“Sorry sir,” the officer said as he met them at their taxi. Sean’s father was a sergeant with the mounted police. The officer looked uncomfortable talking in front of Sean and Gordon.

“Go ahead, officer. We’re family,” said Elias.

“Sorry sir,” the man repeated. He hastily took off his hat and gripped it in his fists. “Sir, you need to come down to the station. It’s your wife, sir. She…she’s dead. You need…”

Sean didn’t hear anything else. The monotone voices of his father and the officer no longer translated into words. He found the hood of the police car and leaned on it, his sword case hitting the pavement with an audible thump.

Gordon wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, I’ll get you inside.”

~~~~~

Opening paragraphs - Tell me what you think.

Prince in Hiding - Soon to be Published

Yep, that's true. I sent the final polish off to the publisher this evening. Already I await anxiously for the planned release date, sometime in October.

Here are a few things I learned from my editor, Crystal Clear Proofing.

The biggest thing was that thoughts were italicized rather than set in single quotes. I really didn't know that.

The ellipse is three periods. My writing book specified they be spaced apart but what it didn't clarify was that there is a difference between the use of ellipse in non-fiction and fiction. In fiction the ellipse is three periods only. The only exception is if the phrase would have been an exclamation or a question. At those times an exclamation or question mark are added to the three periods. Now I did find one problem with this little punctuation. Word will nicely convert your three periods into a single punctuation, it also glues the words on either side into a single word as far as Word is concerned. That means that if you are unlucky enough to have two large words welded together by an ellipse near the end of a line, Word will happily place the whole thing on the next line, stretching whatever else was on the original line out to take up the space left behind. In this case, a space is needed after the ellipse. Keep in mind, the ellipse needs to be attached to the first word, not the second one. If this doesn't work, consider rewording your sentence.

Another little punctuation is the dash. A dash is the same as a hyphen only with spaces on either side. Once again, Word will make the conversion for you. It is however, very important that the conversion is made because they have very different meanings. When I first started writing, I didn't know that and my computer didn't convert the little bugger every time so I turned the conversion off. I really do prefer consistency even in such little things.

As I went through all the rest of the edits, these are some of the other things I discovered.

Swordbelt is in fact two words

Lord is not capitalized unless it is attached to a name. In such phrases as, "Yes, my lord." 'lord' is not capitalized.

The 'T' in T-shirt is capitalized - I suppose I should have looked it up, but in truth I didn't think of it.

I also confused 'farther' with 'further' - farther is a term indicating distance. Further is an abstract term --> "The king couldn't bring himself to punish his son any further for his crimes." is an example.

I also used 'aught' instead of 'ought' - though the two words are interchangeable, aught is an archaic version.

I was just a mite inconsistent with whether 'packsaddle' was one word or two - it is one word.

'Guild master' is two words.

Many of you have already read about my views on names. "Don't confuse your reader with names that are too similar." I had one character named Soran and another named Searron. It reminded me of JRR Tolkein's two main antagonists Sauron and Saruman. Confusing. Soran is my main character's first ancestor and haunts the book off an on throughout. Searron is my main character's grandfather and is only mentioned a few times, but it was still confusing, therefore I changed Searron's name to Lardeain, giving him some connection to the names of his two eldest sons, and allowing Soran to take center stage of the ghostly variety.

I also caught that Aunt Marinda had two names, something I fixed. Whew - that was a close one since the misname was Miranda.

In case you didn't guess, I took notes. I have two more books in this series to make sure of such little details.

Here is the first couple pages of my book - I hope you like a teaser.

First Magics

Sixteen-year-old Sean stood in the queue, waiting his turn to compete with the saber. He looked up at the bleachers. He had no problem locating his dad; his parents sat in the same place every time. His dad was talking to their flat mate, Gordon. His mom couldn’t make it this time – she had to work. Every year since Sean’s first tournament, his parents gave him a choice. Since the tournament and his birthday were generally only a few days apart, Sean got to pick which event his parents would attend, since it was impossible for them to get both days off from work. Sean thought of a compromise. He really wanted them to watch him compete, so, as a birthday present of sorts, they could take him out for a special dinner afterward.

When Sean, Gordon, and his father returned home that evening, they were greeted by a squad car waiting in front of their apartment building.

“Sorry sir,” the officer said as he met them at their taxi. Sean’s father was a sergeant with the mounted police. The officer looked uncomfortable talking in front of Sean and Gordon.

“Go ahead, officer. We’re family,” said Elias.

“Sorry sir,” the man repeated. He hastily took off his hat and gripped it in his fists. “Sir, you need to come down to the station. It’s your wife, sir. She…she’s dead. You need…”

Sean didn’t hear anything else. The monotone voices of his father and the officer no longer translated into words. He found the hood of the police car and leaned on it, his sword case hitting the pavement with an audible thump.

Gordon wrapped an arms around his shoulders. “Come on, I’ll get you inside.”

When school started two weeks later, Sean didn’t go; he still wallowed in a fog, aimless and lost. Elias was no better, though perhaps more animated. He went from brooding in his chair for hours, to pacing the floor furiously. If he spoke, it was generally one version or another of the same thing. “Analeace was found dead at the door to the tower where she worked, and no cause could be found. They say it was as if she had simply stopped living. People here don’t simply stop living. They’re not looking hard enough.”

After Elias was allowed to go back to work, Gordon took Sean to school and then spent hours helping him catch up on what he’d missed. He was also there to keep him going – quite a difficult task at first.

Between relentless lessons with Gordon and those with the sword, Sean slowly started functioning again. When Master Mushovic decided to include the claymore in his sword lessons, he discovered it to have a very satisfying weight with which to work out his emotions.

For an entire year, Sean struggled at every turn. The vacancy left by his mother’s death haunted him. His grades slipped, but Gordon made sure they didn’t slip too far. He wanted to quit his lessons with the sword, but his father wouldn’t hear of it. It helped that every class left him feeling like he’d won something, though he couldn’t identify what.

On the anniversary of his mother’s death, Sean and his father visited her grave. They stood there, not speaking, with their hands in their pockets, wishing it wasn’t raining.

Ten days later, Sean found himself back at the cemetery, this time standing over his father’s grave. Killed in the line of duty was all he knew. The particulars of the incident had not been released, nor had the results of the investigation – Sean was still a minor and Gordon wasn’t family.

With the first anniversary of his mother’s death only a few days old, Sean felt so lost; he just wanted to stay in his room. He stopped going to school and even skipped his sword lessons. Not even the Sword Master’s heavy claymore could ease this pain. The fact that he suddenly didn’t have time was the only thing that kept him from falling apart completely.