First Chapter of Book Two "War of the Gods" of the Series: "Of Angels and Olympians"

I am enclosing the first chapter of book two below, thus far names "WAR OF THE GODS" book should be out sometime in April, I hate saying dates because it never seems to actually happen. At this point it needs some rewrites and to be copy edited. The format will remain the same, a Novella with approximately 35K words. There is a lot more involvement with mythical creatures this time around. Pretty much if it was part of Greek Mythology it is in the story. Obviously as long as it fit, more will be added with the third book. I am not going to give away too much of the story but am happy to say I feel it is better than the first, with more interaction along with building on the first book's story and the characters in it.

CHAPTER 1

The wood was silent and the moon low as the scout crept quietly between the trees. The forest was dense, the moon-rays cracking through the canopy of trees only at irregular intervals. These shimmering rays of light, the scout avoided. He dashed from tree to tree, body low to the ground, stopping before coming near any point of light. His course was indirect, seemingly random, but slowly his cloven feet brought him near the center of the great wood. If any other creatures stirred in the night, they noticed him not and made no sound at his passing. He was alone, alone with the grass and the trees and the crumbling leaves beneath his feet.

The scout was short by human standards, the height of only an adolescent boy. His torso was as strong as any man’s, but hairless, save the creepings of curly brown fur that started at navel height and descended down his fully covered legs, ending only when they reached his hooves. Of all the creatures who roamed this heavenly forest, the satyrs were the most nimble and surefooted. The scout was no exception. He moved with a swiftness and quietness that could only be matched by the keepers of the forest, whom he had come to see.

In the center of the wood, the scout came upon a small brook, which bubbled and flowed southward toward the ravine that cut the southernmost part of the forest off from the rest of the wood. In a single leap, he cleared the stream and landed gracefully on the other side before tramping his way southward, following the flow of the stream for some miles. The moon was high in the sky when he finally reached the meeting place, a tightly packed circle of trees just north of the great ravine.

“I’m here,” he whispered, pressing his body against the largest tree. His lips nearly touched the cool brown bark. “You can come out.”

At first, he saw nothing in the failing moonlight. The tree stood just as it had when he arrived, straight and strong among its many brothers and sisters. But then, slowly, the tree began to change. The moonlight bent and twisted around its form, looping round and round in a great circle. Tiny specks of dust, like gathering gnats, began to swirl with the moonlight, scattering and condensing back and forth and back again. Then, just as quickly as the change had begun, the tree grew suddenly dark and before it stood a woman with brown, barky skin, robed only in leaves, tall and strong and graceful.

“You should not be here,” the woman said, staying within the shadow of the great tree that was both her home and her very self.

“I could not wait,” the satyr said, squinting his eyes to see the expression on the woman’s face. The darkness made her countenance unreadable.

“All things can wait, if you let them,” she said, stepping sideways and then backward, putting half her body behind the trunk of the great tree. “Leave me. You have no business here.”

“Please, milady,” the scout said, bowing slightly. “But my business is expressly concerned with you and your great wood. Would you not hear my message?”

“What message could a spy of the Titans bring the dryads?” the woman said, pulling more of her body behind the tree. Now only the outline of the right side of her head remained visible.

“Only this, fair one,” the scout said. “The army of my masters is on the move. They mean to take the eastern celestial plains, which the Olympians have long held against them as a buffer against the Father’s throne.”

“Neither the long grass, nor the rolling hills, nor the politics of the Titans and their children have any interest to me,” the dryad said, slipping totally behind the tree now.

“Then perhaps this will,” the scout said, moving around the tree to face the dryad and finding only a tangle of leaves and branches. He then swept around the other way, faster this time, and again found nothing there. Exasperated, the scout pulled a knife from his belt and moved to ram it into the tree. A hand shot out from the darkness and held his wrist fast. From the shadows, the dryad spoke again.

“Do not try the patience of my people,” she said. “Others have paid dearly for harming us and our wood.”

“Know this, lady,” the scout said, wrenching his wrist free from her grasp. “You shall pay dearly for continuing to block the southern entry to the celestial plains with your great wood. The Titans know how you have long harbored Artemis and offered her safe haven in your wood in times of need. Their patience for your interference is limited.”

At these words, the forest grew suddenly dark. The scout looked up and saw that the branches of the great circle and surrounding trees had pulled tightly around him, blocking out the light of the moon. As he stepped away, the arms of the trees seemed to follow him, reaching down toward his body, creaking and snapping as they went. Their great shadows fell over his small form, and he raised his knife once again in defense.

“Artemis has always been a friend to our wood,” the nymph said from the shadows. “More than we can say for the Titans or the other Olympians. Why now is our presence in this region so intolerable to your masters? Why now do they threaten the peace of the wood?”

“It is said by many in our camp that the Father has awakened new creatures to battle the Titans’ army,” the scout said quickly. “Beings of frightful power and great light. The Titans will not stand to have their dominion threatened. They are hell-bent on winning this war now, before the newborns gain the strength to bolster the Olympians’ forces.”

“If they threaten our home, then WE shall bolster the Olympians’ forces,” the nymph said darkly. The scout suddenly felt his legs had become immovable, and he looked down to find them wrapped tightly in thick roots.

“H-have I not always come in peace to your wood, with words only of friendship and warning?” the scout stuttered, struggling against his bindings. “My people have always loved both tree and flower, root and berry.”

“Fauns and satyrs, children of whom, I wonder,” the nymph said, ignoring the scout’s pleas for mercy. “Children of the Olympians? Spirits of their making? No, you share no relation to the dryads or naiads or nymphs of old. What then? Children of Echidna, mother of monsters? Are you brothers of centaurs, who cut our wood for sport? Of the fell-beasts who suffocate life wherever they roam? Or are you of the demons the Titans breed in secret with the help of Hades, the traitor?”

“Please, spare me,” the scout begged, letting his knife drop to the ground as the roots and branches tightened around his body. “I came only to warn you.”

“To warn or to threaten?” the dryad said, stepping out from the shadows and picking up the satyr’s knife from the ground. She held it in her hands for a few moments, examining it, before placing the hilt in her fist and pressing the point against the scout’s throat. “Your visits have been tolerated. But no more. Do not show your face in our wood again, or you shall end up like them.”

She then pointed the knife away to a nearby bundle of branches. Above them, the canopy opened enough to let the moonlight through, revealing the mangled bodies of several less-fortunate scouts and soldiers from the Titan’s army. Most looked as though they had been crushed and pulled apart simultaneously.

“I will say it again,” the dryad said. “You and your kin are no longer welcome here. And if the Titans dare to move against our wood, their forces will face the wrath of the tree spirits and the protection of the goddess Artemis. Do not test my word.”

“U-understood,” the scout said, then dropped to the ground as the branches and roots released him. When he stood again, he found the wood-nymph gone and the trees silent once again. Not bothering to look for his knife, he scurried quickly away back the way he came. When he was gone, a soft breeze blew through the forest, carrying a cloud of gnat-like dust away to the north, toward the celestial fields still held by the Olympian army.

Recieved a review on Goodreads: "Well-written and, in places, often lovely in regards to descriptions"

Received this review on Goodreads.

Well-written and, in places, often lovely in regards to descriptions, certain expressed ideas and the narrative's overall tone and feel. To me, the book is reminiscent of older (classic) Christian novels, a nice change of pace from contemporary stories. My favorite part was the end, when the angels (and the reader) get a glimpse of the Father's master plan and what is in store for the rest of the series. My one issue with the story was that the world felt small and difficult to fathom: it was hard to get a sense of space or where places were in relation to each other or how much time passed between events. There is a note of Cronus, for example, finding refuge away from the Father's eyes but it's not clear if this place is on earth, in another dimension, in the heavens...I found this disorienting. Perhaps a map might help ground the reader in this world. Other than that, a very good and enjoyable read. Recommended. 

The Lost Books Of The Angel Filomena: Book 1: The Olympian Forge

So book two is actually already done, and will be getting copy edited soon. So in my spare time, I tend to still write things, so I have decided to write some short chapters with the characters from the "Of Angels and Olympians" series. I figure I will post one every week or so giving some insight into the world we have created. At this point none of these will be used in books, but hey you never know if they turn out good I may use them in book three. So please feel free to let me know if you do. Keep in mind these are not edited and are just stories that pop in my head. Well anyway here is the first one.

“The Olympian Forge”

Hephaestus stood in front of his forge, staring into the fires that bellowed under the glowing metal he had been working, lost in his thoughts, the anger welled inside of him, his creations, the weapons he had spent eons forging, the weapons he put his blood and his sweat into where now in the hands of these newborn Angels. When Zeus had originally approached him about the idea, he had thought for sure it was in jest, how he could make such a request of him like this was beyond reasoning. He had originally refused Zeus, he would not stand for such a defilement of his labored artwork, how could he, as angry as he was with Zeus asking, Zeus had been as equally angry at his response. In the end he had no choice but to bend to the will, and wishes of his King and the Father.
He had considered crafting inferior pieces for inferior life forms but could not bring himself to allow anything but pure perfection to leave his forge. He let out a long exhale and turned his head to glance over to where a few of these Angels had gathered. He looked upon them in disgust as he watched those same creatures wave their newly acquired weapons he had just forged like some Satyr child receiving a new prank toy. He shook his head in contempt as he placed his hammer upon his anvil and put his hand to his pocket as if in doing so he would be guarding his great secret. A smile came upon his face as he considered the drawings that his hand covered. He dared not leave them lying around, for he could not afford to have them discovered, lest anyone ask questions of what type of weapon he was designing. He closed his eyes and envisioned the death toll it would take upon these Angels once the Titans had been destroyed. Oh how he longed for that day. “Hephaestus?” He quickly snapped out of his thoughts and turned to look at the newborn who had spoken his name, he had seen him around Ares tent, he was one of their leaders, that he knew for sure………”What is it Angel?” He said in a gruff voice. “As you already know, my name is Michael, I wanted to tell you how appreciative we are of your weapons, and they have proved themselves to be great assets in battle and….”With a wave of his hand Hephaestus brought Michael to silence,” I make them because I am told I must Angel, but don’t for one moment ever think I want to, you neither deserve nor have you earned the privilege to brandish a weapon such as I have made you in battle.” Hephaestus noticed Michael prepare to interrupt him and again raised his hand to stave him off. ” Angel tell me something, have I said anything to you to make you think I would want to hear your voice? That I need to hear from you of the caliber of my creations? Or that I even care what you or your ilk might think of me or my weapons? ”His last sentence hung in the air like the smoke that plumed from his fires, he could see the anger on this Angels face and hoped he would strike at him so he could pluck the feathers of this Newborn creatures wings.
“My name is Michael Olympian you would be well to remember it. ”Hephaestus could feel his face turning red in anger as the Angel quickly turned on his heels and started to walk away, how dare he speak to him like that, and then turn his back on him……..
At that moment Hephaestus decided…. He would remember the name Michael............ he would etch it into his memory as if he had etched it into the stone of the great Mount Olympus itself. He would remember it so that he would never forget it, he would remember the name Michael, for Michael will be the first Angel Hephaestus will destroy once this war is over, and he will lay the Angels broken body on the steps in front of Zeus, and he will say nothing, for without Hephaestus there is no fire, without Hephaestus there is no forging of metals, and without Hephaestus………..  there are no weapons!!!!!!!!

4 of 5 Stars Compelling Combination of Mythologies : New Review

4.0 out of 5 stars Compelling combination of Mythologies December 21, 2013

By Dastrn

Format:Kindle Edition|Amazon Verified Purchase

J.D. Rice and R. Sardella created an interesting universe in the first of (hopefully) many installments in the "Angels and Olympians" series. The combination of christian and greek mythos is unique as far as I'm aware of, and they pair up well. I'm finding the Titans in particular to be well-written.
The pace is rather brisk, as is necessary for novellas of this size. Dialogue is brief, which leaves character development short, which took a star away in my rating, as I'm usually very keen on books with strongly-written characters (see Joe Abercrombie, George R.R. Martin, and Tolkien for some obvious examples within the fantasy genre, and Stephen King as the penultimate example of well-written character with complex inner workings).

A good clean 4 stars for Rice and Sardella, and I look forward to reading the next book in the series.

Received a 5 Star Review: "A rattling good escape!"

Here is the review from Amazon:

5.0 out of 5 stars A rattling good escape! December 20, 2013

By Alan Walsh

Format:Paperback

I picked the book up hoping for a story to take me far away from the workaday world and this definitely achieved that. A mesmerising sequence of events, characters and mythical creations that I would recommend to anyone. I felt the story gathered pace throughout and can't wait for the next volume. It also seems like it would work very well for the screen actually... although maybe that's just how well the descriptions work. A great read!

A new Excerpt from "Pilgrimage of Angels" First battle with a Hellhound

Here is Chapter 4 of the book. It is the first battle and also the first time the Angles meet a Hellhound. This is all new to them and they are unarmed .......... I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 4

Angels screamed and called out, pointing and yelling at the unknown terrors that surrounded them in the darkness. Around him, Greagian saw an ever-growing cloud of ash that seemed to suck the life out of the grass, leaving only withered, brown husks in its wake. Within that cloud, Greagian could see bodies circling the angelic crowd as the angels jostled and shoved each other into a tight circle. The starlight failed to illuminate these creatures, but Greagian found he could see far into the darkness and make out their shape. Long bodies, two sets of powerful legs, sharp claws, and an aura of shadowy fire that, rather than giving off light, seemed only to absorb it and create more darkness. They ran quickly around the angelic tribe, circling, coming closer, and letting off that foul smoke that began to hide even the stars from sight and increase the angels’ sense of blindness.

            Before he knew what was happening, Greagian heard a roar come out of the darkness and felt himself being jostled once again by those around him. An angel cried out, his voice garbled as if his throat were filled with liquid. The sound was quickly drowned out by the cries of the others.

            Another angel fell. Then another. Greagian was knocked to the ground by a powerful blow and saw blood on the ground. But not his own. The dark-skinned angel who had walked alongside him for many hours lay dead at his side. In this moment, he could not remember the man’s name. Looking up, he saw one of the shadows eyeing him through the darkness. Only its eyes were visible, the rest of its form now completely enveloped in the black smoke that seemed to stream from every pore of its dark skin. The eyes spoke to Greagian. Told him that he was nothing to them. Nothing at all but another meal, another game.

            Then Greagian and the surrounding angels grew strangely quiet. It seemed to them that suddenly the clouds seemed less black, the sky less dark. Greagian could see the creature plainly. Like a lion it was, but hairless and covered in scales. Pacing and snarling among the remains of the once-hearty field of grass. Sharp fangs, sharp claws, sharp eyes. But Greagian’s eyes were sharper.

            The creature hesitated for a moment as the angel stared it down.

            It waited.

            The other angels stopped moving and set their eyes into the darkness as well, as if all were filled with sudden resolve.

            Then the moment passed. The creatures pounced. Greagian pivoted to the side, redistributing his weight by instinct in preparation for the blow. He then stretched out his hand just as the creature came at him and caught the monster by its scaly throat. Claws fell onto his shoulders, digging in and tearing into his flesh, yet still Greagian held. Held and squeezed. Strength was in his fingers, and the creature gagged. Spittle flew into Greagian’s face, stinging him but leaving him undeterred. He would not let go until the creature breathed its last breath. All the while, the shadow’s powerful forelegs kicked and scratched and tore into the angel’s shoulders.

            Then the kicking slowed. The creature’s body convulsed. It moaned and finally it lay still, collapsing into a heap by Greagian’s side.

            Greagian had only enough time to take a breath before another shadow fell upon him. He felt himself flung onto his back, gripping the creature’s forelegs as its jaws snapped in his face. For a brief moment, he thought this would be his death, an unsatisfying end to such a short existence. But then a few of his fellow angels grabbed the creature from both sides and flung it back and away into the surrounding clouds of smoke. One of his companions offered Greagian a hand, but he could only wave his rescuer off. He was already feeling light-headed from loss of blood.

            Greagian lifted himself to his knees, unable to do much more. Blood continued to drip from his mangled shoulders, pooling on the ground beneath him. For several moments, he simply watched the battle unfold.

            Ahead of him, the bright-eyed angel who had started the march came charging into the battle, another angel not far behind. The shadows had little chance to react to this new foe as the bright-eyed one caught two of the creatures by their forelegs and sent them tumbling to the ground in a mess of feathers and scales and darkness and light. Greagian tried to move, tried to aid in the battle, but his wounds were too severe. He could only watch as the bright-eyed angel grappled with the creatures, fiery eyes blazing as he punched, kicked, held, and threw each in turn. Always scrambling, always moving, always predicting where the next strike would come. A master of battle at less than a day old. An archangel.

            Soon the trio of wrestling figures became a fuzzy mess in Greagian’s eyes. He could no longer hear the snarls of the creatures, could hardly smell the foulness of their smoke. His vision was fading as the blood loss finally stripped him of consciousness. The last thing he felt before passing out was the soft, loamy soil cradling him as his body dropped to the ground.

You can see more of the book here:  Pilgrimage of Angels 

An in Depth Review of my book from a Blogger.

On November 8th a reader of my book wrote this on Amazon as her review:

 Strangely drawing, and refreshing in how original it is. November 8, 2013

By K. Cross

Format:Kindle Edition

Pilgrimmage of Angels afforded a new twist on greek mythology that I wasn't expecting.

Sardella and Rice use a combination of mythological creatures and current religious parallels that I couldn't miss and really enjoyed. On the other hand, it wasn't so obvious that I'd say it has Christian undertones, just parallels. They have a few main characters that they follow in the story, and I think that really helped spread out the intense nature of the fight. Because it's so battle-oriented, switching the character perspectives made it so that I never got bored. The writing was solid and I don't recall any hiccups or spots that bothered me.

I would say that what Pilgrimmage of Angels really has going for it is the originality of the story. It's truly a twist I have never heard before, and I think that was where most of my forward momentum came from. The angels have different motivations, different opinions, different viewpoints, but all the same objective. It makes for a really interesting read.

One of my only complaints was that dialogue didn't come as often as I would have liked, or am used too, but it never stopped me from reading. There were also a lot of battle scenes, but I never felt like they went on for too long at any one time. I was invested enough in the characters that I wanted to know how they fought in battle as well, and how they came out, so the battle scenes were okay. There were a few parts I started to skim a paragraph or two, but that was about as long as it went before I picked back up and started reading.

Overall, they did a good job wrapping the first book up without an annoying cliff hanger, but enough that I'm looking forward to the next installment.

Well done, Sardella and Rice.

Finally made an Author page on Facebook

Hello all my twitter friends,  I made my authors page for my book and subsequent ones to come out. I am trying to break 200 likes and would appreciate anyone here liking my page.

https://www.facebook.com/raymondsardellawriter

Book is finally available

It has been a long struggle to finally get this done and I am so glad to have it finished. There is so much more to actually getting a book published than most could ever imagine, the minutia involved in the little details that have to be done are incredible. But it has certainly been a learning experience. I have created a facebook page.

https://www.facebook.com/raymondsardellawriter

and a website to sell my books on.

http://raymondsardella.com/

It has been a great ride and I really enjoyed working with JD Rice, he is a great writer and you can see some of his work here:

http://unscriptednarration.wordpress.com/

I hope those that purchase the book enjoy it, there is a teaser chapter from book two at the end.
JD and I will start on that one in late September probably. And I have two other books to come out starting around Christmas time, if all goes well anyway.
Once again thanks to all that gave their support and guidance.

The New Prologue to "Pilgrimage Of Angels"

Here is the new beginning to the book, the changes that were suggested by the Beta readers was taken into account and is now being Copy Edited with the hopes of having it released in mid July. I know it is running late, the process is a much more involved one and both JD and I have been trying to keep to a schedule on it. I hope you enjoy the new start.

Prologue

            The endless fields of heaven burned for days on end, blades of grass stubbornly refusing to turn to ash, fires fed by the boundless energies locked within the celestial plain. At one time, the heavens had been populated by a great many spirits. Spirits of fire and of water, of forests and trees, of the wind and the sky. Now, all was consumed by the wrath of the lesser gods. Monsters and giants had driven the spirits away, leaving nothing but simple grassy fields behind, where once great forests and seas and mountains once dwelt. The heavens were abandoned, and what little life was left behind now burned in a fire unquenchable.

            I know this, because I watched God try to put the fires out, and fail.

            The lesser gods, the Titans and their Olympian children, had turned their full thought on the destruction of God and his heavenly home. I was among them, a foolish child hoping to please her parents, not realizing the weight her actions carried. Power flowed out of us in boundless waves of unchecked and unchallenged energy, blazing the earth black and the sky red. Still the grass held its form, life protected by the might of The Father, a God who could do so little to stop the destruction his own creations were bringing against him.

            I marched with the Titans across the whole length of heaven, burning everything in my sight, coming finally before the great throne of God, protected by the pillar of marble and light that rose high above our heads. My eyes glistened with youthful pride as Cronus and Zeus hammered on the doors of the great tower themselves, calling to the so-called King of Kings to come forward and answer for his crimes. He'd withheld the Earth from us, denied us the birthright of the world we'd helped create. He would pay for his selfishness and pride. We would have what was ours.

            One last laborious strike, and the great marble doors of the tower burst from from their hinges, white light streaming out from the inside. I shielded my eyes at the brightness, and for the first time, doubted our cause. Could a being so pure as The Father truly be as evil as the Titans say? Was he keeping the Earth to himself, or did he understand some greater purpose that my creators did not?

            But look, I thought. How he trembles in his tower, alone and defenseless. He hides his shame in the light.

            What a fool I was.

            “Come out and face us!” Cronus called from outside the bare doorway. “Come out and meet the judgment of your children!”

            A few moments of silence passed, where even the Titans themselves held their breath awaiting the answer of the greatest being in the heavens.

            “Judgment belongs to me alone,” came a voice from within, weak and labored, tired from resisting our power as we matched across the heavens to reach his throne.

            “Judgment belongs to the strong!” Cronus called. “And you have revealed your weakness. Against the combined power of the gods, you are nothing!”

            “Maybe...” the voice answered, more pained. “But would children truly turn against their father so easily, for a cause they do not fully understand?”

            “You call yourself the King of heaven, the creator of all,” Cronus responded. “And yet it is we who aided you in your labors of creation, who helped fashion the heavens and the Earth, and the spirits who now hide on the outer reaches of the heavens, where our fires will soon reach. Who are we, if not your co-creators? Who are we, if not your successors?”

            As I listened to Cronus's challenge, and to the weakened voice of the God I once loved, my heart was stirred to pity. How the mighty had fallen. God, brought to his knees by his own children, and Cronus, leading his own son Zeus in rebellion against a dying king. Would the heavens truly benefit from such a loss? Could there not be peace between us? In my heart, I prayed for mercy, but I did not know to whom my prayer was directed.

            “What would you do with the Earth, were I to turn it over to you?” the voice from within the tower asked, at almost a whisper.

            Cronus laughed.

            “We would shape it as we please and reserve no place for your baseless, weak, feeble creations to come,” he said. “We could craft a world in our image, according to our vision, and its splendor would endure for all eternity.”

            “Such is not my will...” the Father said sadly, my ears straining to hear his last, quiet words.

            “Such is the will of the gods,” Cronus said, and all the army of the Titans shouted out their agreement. My voice alone did not join in the chorus.

            Just then the great fires that surrounded us roared into the new life, growing taller and burning hotter than ever before. The blades of grass, which for so long had clung to life by the Father's power, vanished in a blaze of ash and heat, extinguished by the flames of our zeal. He protected them no more. He was defeated.

            Or so I feared.

            Suddenly the light from within the tower flashed with an intensity I never imagined, and I was forced to divert my eyes for fear of being blinded.

            “My will cannot be turned by any one's power,” the Father's voice roared, far louder and far angrier than I had ever heard. “You claim to be gods! You claim to be immortal! Then see, see what your immortality has given you!”

           Suddenly a great tear appeared in the sky above us, a great streak of black stretching across the blood-red sky. A rushing wind howled in our ears, pulled us upward, threatening to take us off our feet. The Titans were the first to lose their grip on the soil, pulled by an unseen force into the tear above. Their forms disappeared in the cloud of black, their screaming voices heard no more. Ahead of me, I saw Zeus clinging to what little earth he could get his hands on, a look of terror and guilt upon his face.

            “Mercy!” I found myself screaming above the winds. “Have mercy on your misguided children!”

            For a moment, I believed that even the Father's mercy had run out, that we would be sent into oblivion with our forebears. But then the wind settled and the great tear above us disappeared. The sky was dark, and the light from the tower, once so bright, was now little more than a faint glimmer. Finding my feet, I walked alongside my Olympian brothers and sisters towards the broken door, peering inside with trepidation. The broken form of an old man lay kneeling in the center of a great hall, breathing harshly.

            “They are dead?” Zeus asked, looking up at the clear sky outside, his voice a mixture of guilt and fear.

            “No,” the Father said, straining to stand to his feet. “Only banished. If you wish to redeem yourselves for the damages you have caused, you must make ready for war again. My plans cannot be halted, but they may be forestalled. There is much work to be done.”

- The testimony of Artemis, god of the wild, on the last day of the First War of Heaven.

The Next Big Thing

I was invited by Jessie Mahoney, the author of The Community Vampire Series , and K.R.Rowe, author of Amber and Blue to participate in a question and answer blog interview about my newest book. I was more than happy to participate. I have added their links to the bottom of my page. Please take a look at both of their interviews and read about their books.

1. What is the name of your work in progress?
   The book is called “Pilgrimage of Angels”, it is the first book in a series that is entitled “Of Angels and Olympians” It will be my first published book, and it is co-written with a friend of mine named JD. Rice

2. Where did the idea come from for the book?
   I had an idea a few years ago about having the Greek and Roman Gods be Angels that left heaven when Lucifer revolted because they had been so upset over the War between the Angels. So instead they decided to look over the evolution of man. But man, being who they are, instead looked upon them as God's. From there I wanted to incorporate the Titans into the story and the main nemisis and started writing my outline. It started to take on a life of it's own but then as it unfolded it had become to convoluted with too many sub plots and characters to keep track of. That is when I turned to J.D. To help sort it out and he did an excellent job. The real funny part is that I have the last book 75% already written. That is when JD felt we should start in a different place and lead up to that one.

3. What genre does your book fall under?
   This can be classified two ways I think, in one aspect it is a Fantasy Novella. But in another fashion it could be considered a Mythological story. I think it will depend on the reader take on the story. In book two it will take on a more Fantasy driven story and will see the introduction of many creatures that can be found in contemporary Fantasy works of today.

4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
   This question is much tougher than it would seem. Of course my knee jerk reaction would be to say Matt Damon or Brad Pitt, as a writer I think you always wish for a movie to be made of something you have created, and of course you want a big name star to be the lead, but when I think of Greagian I don't envision either of them to play the part. But I do think that Jonny Lee Miller of the TV show Elementary would be perfect in the role.

5. What is the one sentence synopsis for your book?
   Angelic and Mythical yarn spun to delight readers of all ages.

6. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
   This book will be self-published and so will the next few in the series. We already have the basis for book two and the lead up into book three. I think I will try in the future to work with an agent, if one would be willing to tolerate me that is, but for right now the self-publishing is the best fit for me.

7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
   Minus the time it sat on my desktop as an icon before I sent it to JD, it took about 3 months of actual work after that. The re-writes are in the process right ow and we are still looking at a late April release date. And possibly a cover art release in Mid March.

8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
   I don't really know of any stories that mix Christian and Ancient Greek Gods together, so it is hard to compare it to any. I like to think we were able to take two very popular stories and meld them into one exciting tale.

9. Who or what inspired you to write this book?
   The only inspiration was an idea I had about trying to bring an air of realism to Ancient mans beliefs into modern days. Basically it was just an idea I had while sitting around in a quit house.

10. What else about your book might pique the readers' interests?
    There will be a lot of action, and a lot of battles. Some of the Greek Gods you will like and some you wont and the same goes for the Angels. But I hope it will entertain any and all who decide to read it. 
    
    
    These two fine ladies and writers were kind enough to include me in this opportunity and here are the links to their blogs.
    
    
    Jessie Mahoney's Blog 
    
    
    K.R. Rowe's Blog

Time traveling N.Y. homicide detective

I have been working on this book for a couple of years now. I have thrown away 3 complete manuscripts of it also, but bad writing is just bad writing, no sense keeping any of it but the story line.

I spent the time while the Angles and Olympians book was being beta read to refine the Character profile pages and changed some of their profiles to better match where the story line was heading, I also added some new character’s to the story. The main “hero” of the book is a NYPD officer in the future that ends up in the past, specifically on the day the Towers where hit, he was inside them and knowing his history knew he had to get out and tried to save as many as he could in the process. I am thinking of changing that a little bit to reflect his arrival immediately after the towers fall, I have two versions and I am still deciding on which one to use for it.

I have come up with a reasonable explanation for his time traveling, I did not use a machine, I have decide to use his eagerness, in his college youth, to make money and volunteering for an experimental drug from a Big Pharmaceutical company while attending New York University in Manhattan.  It is falling a little short on realism but I have written down some ideas on how to make that part of the story line more plausible. I am using the theory of the untapped potential of the mind to move it’s “essence” so to say, to different time periods and occupy different vassals, specifically one vassal in particular. With this of course there needs to be a nemesis, so I have created a serial killer that also has this ability, and I will have the crimes mirror each other in both time zones. So far I have made the serial killer extremely brutal, I may have to tone it down a little bit, but I may not, this book is not intended for children in any way and it helps keep to the realism. There is so much more to the story than just these two characters, there are two additional subplots that are happening also. I have completed the outline and have the first couple of chapters done, of course this is the first draft only.

This book will be a full novel, I am figuring somewhere around 80K words maybe a little more. As of right now I have this being a trilogy, but may leave it open for future stories also, I will have to see how people react to the characters and the story line.

Big Thanks To The Beta Readers: Rewrites Start Tomorrow

First I want to thank the beta-readers for taking the time and reading our story. And a big thank you for the feedback. My co-writer J.D. and I went over them all the last few nights and have mapped out and are outlining the changes we are going to make. We knew what some of it was going to be but wanted to hear the reactions from the readers.
One of the changes is going to be more scenes and chapters involving the Olympians. They were a big hit with the readers and every beta reader wants to read more with them involved. So we heard you and we are going to oblige your requests.
We are also going to change the prologue and may just start with a chapter and bring the story from there, we are going to write both beginnings that we discussed and see which one fits our particular story.
We also know some didn't like two of the characters and we are rewriting their profiles and will adjust their scenes according to their new profile.
As far as making it longer, it will undoubtedly be longer, but I think it will still stay a novella, just a longer then usual one. With these changes, it will bring automatic changes to book two which has already been started. We still will have chapter one of book two at the end of book one as a teaser.
As far as a time frame, we are still looking at the dates we had discussed earlier. We knew we wold be doing rewrites so this hasn't changed the time frame at all.
Once again thank you for those that were beta readers, and thank you to those that have been reading my blog.

Pilgrimage of Angels is with the beta readers

I haven't written a blog post in a little while, and I really need to get better at this, but a lot has been going on and decided to fill everyone in.
My co-writer and editor J.D. Rice, you should check out his blog at
http://unscriptednarration.wordpress.com/
he writes some great flash fiction besides his own stores, is receiving the feedback from our beta group for the first of hopefully many stories to follow the "Of Angles and Olympians" series. As many of you know the first book is called "Pilgrimage of Angels".
Well anyway JD is getting the feedback and we will be going over the suggestions that are made and see what we agree with and what we like and incorporate or change what we feel will make it a better story and more interesting for you, the reader, to enjoy it more.  This is going to be a big year for me as far as writing goes, and I know it is also going to be for JD. I will, after talking it over with JD, probably post the cover art in the next few weeks, I came up with the idea and format for it and JD has been kind enough to let me run with it, so in closing thanks to the beta readers, and to my buddy JD, and  a special thank you to everyone that reads this.

5 Men who helped shape me and will be in my next book as featured characters

I have sat here for the last hour or maybe even longer thinking on how to start this and how it would be framed and so on, but for some reason the words didn’t seem to jump onto the screen themselves. I have added 5 men that have made a significant contribution to my life and how I turned out as characters in a science Fiction book I am almost done writing.

This is going to be a serious and for me an emotional post, I am going to talk about a few men in my life as I was growing up that helped shape me to be who I am and taught me what a man was, and I mean what a real man is, a father, husband, and a man who is taken serious but doesn’t bully people to do what he wants. A man who understands when to be strong and when to have mercy, when to have patience, when there is no patience left, and when to just sit there and be quit because someone just needs you to be next to them. These men mean, and some meant, a lot to me, three have passed away. These five men are featured characters in a book I have been trying to write for about 6 years now, and with the passing of my Uncle Ronnie this past year, yes he is one of the five, I am vowing to all that read this that I am going to finish this book this year, hopefully by the end of summer.

First and foremost is my Dad:

Carmine Henry Sardella: A guy couldn’t ask for a better father, I have tried and hopefully succeeded in being half the man he is. I never feared my father, I did what he asked, well most of the time, there were a few years I wont mention here in college, not because I feared what would happen if I didn’t, but because I respected him so much I wouldn’t dream of not listening to him, I always knew no matter what I did wrong, he may punish me, but he would always listen and help me through whatever it was I did wrong, even when I was a dumb 19 year old who deserved punishment from the courts, my Dad stood by my side and fought harder for me then I had fought for myself. As a young child in the early 70’s I remember watching the tv and they would talk about the Vietnam war a lot, as an 8 year old it can be horrifying to see what used to be broadcast about the war, nothing like today, back then you watched all the coffins coming off the planes. It was quit scary. And back then it was towards the end of the war and on the news they talked about the draft all the time and I remember asking my father if I would be drafted and have to go fight in Vietnam. And he kneeled down to look me in the eye and he said to me “sometimes men are needed to defend our country, and I hope you never do” then he smiled and said “but if they call you up don’t worry I will join and go with you and beat up the bad guys.” For those of you very young reading this, try to remember this was probably around 1973 and the family dynamics where different then. I grew up in a home where my Dad was affectionate and told you how much he loved you. That wasn’t always the case back then. So when he said that to me I was concerned, because I never knew my dad to have a mean bone in his body and didn’t think him capable of beating up the bad guys. At least not until the day he took me and my little sister Tracey to the Mastic Beach Carnival, it used to be in this field across from the Fire House….. It was dark and it was summertime so it had to be pretty late, for some reason my other three siblings weren’t with us, the other two younger ones probably were just too young to go and my older brother may have been in Breezy point at the time with my aunt and uncle.

So to set the stage for you my sister Tracey when she was a child, liked to wear dresses, white ones to be exact, this was the 70’s little girls didn’t wear pants, and it had rained earlier in the day, the reason I know this is because I remember they had put cardboard all around on the ground so as not to walk in the mud as you were waiting on line for either food or to get on a ride or play a game…… well as we were online, I don’t remember what for, three men probably in their twenties, but I don’t know for sure, came crashing into the line and knocked my sister Tracey to the ground, in the mud, in her white dress with her ribbon in her hair.

I remember being so mad and wishing I was Bruce Lee, he was still alive back then and considered the premier bad ass of the day, cause then I would beat them up. Well no sooner did I think it, my father did it. And I don’t mean he pushed these guys and threatened them…. My dad didn’t say a word, and the three of them never had a chance, my father put all three to the ground in seconds, I remember watching them cry in pain with one guy holding his face and blood all over him. People cleared away from us and gave my dad room and he finished all three guys off, then he picked up my sister and carried her and grabbed my hand, he told me to look at the ground and don’t say anything to anyone. We walked at a fast pace to our car and we drove home, I remember being in a daze I couldn’t believe what I had just seen… I was thinking my Dad could probably beat up Bruce Lee even…. Then he started to talk to me, and this is when I think I moved from being a little boy to starting to understand what it is to grow up to be a man… he said, “I did what had to be done, we look out for our own, and we protect our own no matter what, it isn’t pretty and I know it may seem scary, but as a man you have to fight, there is no way you will be able to grow up without being in a few, it is ugly but it is just how it is. But never forget, just because you can beat someone up doesn’t mean you should.”

I could go on for hours about my Dad and growing up, but I think you get the jist of what I am trying to say.

The rest of the men I will mention are in no particular order just how I ended up writing them. But I will keep it shorter because I don’t want you to not finish because you feel there is too much here.

My Uncle James “Jimmy” Adams is married to my Mom’s sister Jo-ann. I can’t put exactly my finger on it, meaning why I respect him and love him so much, I will say I was scared of him when I was very young, but soon found it to be his banter more then anything, he is just this great guy, another one who you could turn to when the chips are down, and always finds a way to make you do the right thing without having to demand it from you. There is a common theme to all these men and that they all are men of great character. He was a NYPD officer he worked undercover Narcotics I think, for many years. He is a guy anyone would be proud to call his uncle and I have such respect for him and that is the reason he plays a big part in this book.

My Uncle Ronald “Ronny” Durham who passed away just recently, he was married to my Mom’s sister Diane, who is also my Godmother. I really took his death hard, I didn’t talk to anyone about it though but I sobbed on the inside and still feel the pain of it. I loved him dearly, he was a highly decorated Vietnam Veteran, purple heart, silver star, and bronze star, among others he received. I believe he did three tours in total, two in a row and then a year off to recover from wounds and then another year after that. He was probably the funniest man I ever knew, and he was to this day the most patriotic man I ever met, he instilled in my my love of country more then anyone else, it was his influence and guidance that made the very first vote I ever got to cast as an 18 year old, be cast for Ronald Reagan in 1984. I remember calling him up and telling him about it and how proud he was of me. And it is hard for me to not tear up thinking about him now.

My Uncle Eugene Martucci he was my godfather and married to my Dad’s sister Aunt Millie, and if you’re Italian you have an Aunt Millie, never met one who didn’t. Like the rest a man of great character and capable of great feats of kindness…. This country was built by people like him, men who never looked at something and said it couldn’t be done, Uncle Eugene looked at a problem and said, “Let’s see if we can make this right.” And found a way to make it happen, McGyver didn’t have shit on my Uncle, he could take a rubber band and toothpick and fix a car…. I think he may have done that a few times to. And he loved his family, he surrounded himself with them and loved them unconditionally, I think what I learned form him was that anything is possible, the words “can’t do” are opposites and don’t belong with each other. I miss him a lot, and think of him often.

The next man isn’t an Uncle or a cousin or even blood related. He is my Dads best friend Artie Hennessy. Best friends have a way of transcending family, you don’t get to choose who your family is, but you certainly choose who your best friend is. I still can remember walking into their home in Center Moriches, and he would smile and call me over. He would look me up and down and say, ”I think you got taller Raymond, let me see your muscles.” Of which I would make the biggest muscle a young boy could muster to which he would say, “Wow you definitely have big muscles, are you lifting weights or something?” I would say yes, and he would then laugh at me knowing we didn’t have any weights at our house and I was just being a boy. I used to say that to my son while he was growing up, and I say it to my nephews, and now I say it to my grandson who doesn’t even wait for me to ask anymore, he runs up to me and says “Look at my muscles Grandpa, just like Ironman.” And I smile and think of Artie. So if any of his children read this know that it isn’t just your lives he touched, I still remember and he lives on in the gesture he shared with me to the gesture I share with my grandson.

There are other men in my life that have added to it, but these men stand out, they deserve to be remembered. Maybe this book is my attempt to immortalize them in the written word, I don’t want the world to forget them ,because I certainly never will.

New Excerpt: Introduction of the Titans

This is a small introduction of some of the key players on the Titans side, keep in mind that a focus group is reading it and will be giving suggestions for some rewrites, so this may change just a little bit. Comments are greatly appreciated. And if you like what you are reading please follow the blog.

“The newborns have finally come,” a voice said in the darkness, rousing Cronus from his slumber deep beneath the Earth. Traveling on the surface was forbidden, watched too closely by the Father's servants. But here, in the deep caverns of the world, the Titans could sometimes find a reprieve from the unending war, a place where they could rest and sleep and, at times, create beings that weren't to be used solely for the war against heaven. The latter was becoming less and less common.

“What does it trouble me, if the newborns have come?” Cronus asked, sitting up from his bed of crumbled stone. The warmth from the Earth's core had put him in a lethargic mood, masking his usual abruptness.

“It troubles you because it troubles me,” the voice said. “These are the first sentient creatures the Father has created since he created us Titans in eons past. If they have but a fraction of the power we ourselves possess, then they will make formidable opponents, if our children are allowed to teach them the art of war.”

Cronus grunted.

“The Father will never create beings like us again,” he said. “Even the Olympians he believes to be too powerful. He fears them, as he fears us. Fears that one of us will one day overthrow him and claim the heavens and the Earth for our own.”

“Do you forget what happened the day we marched on the throne?” the voice said softly. “Do you forget your own fear at the Father's wrath? Do you not remember how your own son pledged his allegiance to the Father at the mear threat of the Father's wrath? I have not forgotten our failure then, Cronus, and neither should you.”

At these words, Cronus was at last stirred. The stones crumbled beneath him as he hastily rose to his feet.

“We were but children!” he shouted, stretching to his full height and causing the cavern around him to shutter and creak at the power of his voice. “The Olympians call themselves gods, even as they make war against we who created them! We will show them who the true gods really are! We alone were gifted with powers rivaling the Father! We alone shall surpass him!”

“Then what of the newborns, Cronus?” the voice asked, sounding pleased.

“We shall slaughter the lot of them!” Cronus said, and at his words mighty boulders fell from the roof, shaken free by his anger. “We shall prove to the Father that no creation of his can surpass that which we have created to destroy him.”

“Very good,” the voice said. “But you cannot hope to tread those heavenly fields unnoticed by the Father's eye. Only the fell-beasts can slip in and out of that territory unmarked.”

“I have creatures of which the Father knows nothing,” Cronus laughed. “And plans that even you have no conceived. We shall see if the power of the newborns can match my servants in battle. Even if they manage to reach the Father's throne, they will learn to fear us as the Olympians never have.”

“As you wish,” the voice said. “Release your beasts. I have other matters to attend to, father of Zeus.”

For a few moments Cronus stood still in silence. The only sound that he heard was the faint bubbling of the lava flow deep in the heart of the cavern. The mighty Titan clenched his fists twice, then spoke out to the voice again.

“Do not taunt me again, Oceanus,” he said quietly. “King you may be, but I am master of my own life and fate. I will not be goaded or manipulated.”

“Do what you will,” the voice of Oceanus said. “But remember who it was that stood longest in the Father's presence, who matched his strength the most of all the Titans.”

“We were children...” Cronus said, before mustering all his power and disappearing from the cavern in a flash of fire and light.

Excerpt from my forthcoming book

In this excerpt is the first introduction of Zues and it gives you an idea of his mindset at the Angels being born  and how he feels about them. Keep in mind this will be changing, it is just a brief introduction to how the style of the book will be. I hope you enjoy it.

Tears dripped quietly onto polished marble, as the king knelt over the great table where his queen lay in silent sleep. Behind him, row after row of these white tables ran up and down the long hall, each bearing a different sleeper, each sleeper laying in stillness and peace. None stirred, all hardly breathed, and the only sound to be heard in the hall was the slow, steady beating the king's heart. It pounded loudly in his own ears, reminding him of the life his body still held, taunting him. While one hand lay gently on his queen's own, his other remained at his side, balled into a fist, shaking now and again as he stared into his wife's face.

Thunder sounded suddenly from outside the hall, and yet the king, unalarmed, did not move from his place. His voice began to mutter the words of a song, the tune slow and sad. As he sang, the light in the hall around him grew dim, while the body of the queen glowed faintly in response. He brought both his hands to his wife's face, cupping her cheeks and feeling some warmth and redness return to them as he sang. For a moment, his voice grew stronger, louder, but then the redness faded and she grew pale once again, unmoving, cursed to slumber on for years still. The king's voice left him as quickly as it had arisen.

At just that moment, he heard the sound of the door on the opposite end of the hall open and close. He listened as footsteps, soft and quick, came towards to place where he knelt.

“My king,” the newcomer said quietly, unable to completely hide the excitement in her voice.

“Why do you come before me with messages?” the king asked, taking his wife's hand in his own again. “Where is Hermes?”

“That is the message I wish to bring,” the woman said. “We've received word from the Father that the newborns have finally awakened. They are moving, even now, across the old battle plains towards the Father's throne. Hermes has gone out to greet them, arm them, and direct them as best he can.”

“Then these new creatures also appear in the forms of men?” the king asked, still not turning to face the woman behind him. “Are these gods or monsters the Father has brought to fight our war?”

“My scouts report they are neither,” the woman said.

“What then?!” the king asked. “Surely the fell-beasts have waylayed them by now. How do they fare? How do they fight? Do they return to the ether when they die? Do theirs rejoin the Earth? Or do they slumber and fade like so many of our kind have done?! Tell me Artemis, what do your little bugs tell you.”

Finally turning his head, the king looked upon the woman before him. Thin and lithe, garbed in animal skins and leather, armed only with a bow, she was little better than the satyrs who served the Titans. A tiny, woodland thing. And yet she and the nymphs and spirits and fayes which loved her so were indispensable to him. They listened to her, loved her. Even as he looked on her, a tiny glimmer of light hovered next to her ear, humming lightly as it danced and pulsed.

“Yes, the newborns have encountered the fell-beasts,” Artemis said, eyes locked on the king's own. “And they do pass away. Yet my scouts report that they are spirits, nonetheless. The light of the Father is in them.”

“If they die, then they are simply soldiers to be used,” the king said, standing suddenly to his feet. “Tell the nymphs to begin preparing tents and arms for our troops and have my generals ready to march by the time they arrive.”

“My lord,” Artemis said, taking a step forward. “These newborns are dying out in the fields. Should we not send an army out to meet them. Hermes' conjured weapons can only protect them so much against the beasts that roam that region. Surely you wish to protect them. They are the Father's children.”

“They are cattle,” the king said. “And if the Father wishes to protect them, he has the power to do it himself.”

“But he asks~”

“He asks nothing!” the king roared, as thunder crashed outside the great hall again. At the commotion, the faye that danced at Artemis's side suddenly whipped away in fright. “The Father does not bring report to me of these newborn spirits. Instead he sends Hermes, who jumps like a dog at his command, out to greet them. And then you, the hunter, must serve in Hermes's place. Obey my command. Have the tents prepared and gather my generals.”

Artemis eyed her king for a few moments before responding.

“As you command, Lord Zeus,” she finally said, turning to leave. Zeus watched as she walked down the long hall to the doors, passing the slumbering bodies of slain Olympians as she went.

“They weak will die!” Zeus called just as she reached the exit. “The strong will live!”

“Maybe so,” Artemis said back, before slipping out the door and out of sight.

Alone once again, Zeus turned back to table where his wife lay. Despite knowing that she hadn't stirred, the she wouldn't stir again for many ages still, he imagined a frown had formed on her face.

“The Father brings us mortal spirits to fight our war,” he said, resting his hand on hers once again. “Perhaps with their deaths you can awaken to a world without fear of the Titans. Those who survive the war will serve you well. I just pray they will be enough.”

The Angel Greagian

Greagian is without a doubt one of, if not the main character. His interpretation of his birth and what he first see's upon it make up the beginning of the book. His side of the journey that he and the other Angels face is one of the main ones. He is definitely bred to fight, when God created him he did so with one purpose, for a loyal Angel that would always do what was asked of him, and be good at it. And he will need the knowledge  and the fighting ability that he was born with when fighting Hellhounds, Minotaur, and all the other creatures that the Titans have created. In this book Greek Mythology plays a big part, and many of the creatures from that Mythology will be seen in these books. So yes there will be more forthcoming books, this is just the first of hopefully many.

On another note, I am working on interviewing some other Indie Authors as well on my blog and have lined up two so far. So I will keep you updated on that as it unfolds with the dates.

New Release dates

To my dismay, after speaking to J.D. who is helping write the book with me, but is also doing my editing, the book will probably not be released until end of April or beginning of May,and here is why.

First draft will be ready about the 15th of December, then we have some test readers who because of the holidays will probably not here back from until mid January. From there we will have to do some rewrites from the feedback we get. After those have been edited, we then send to a readers group for any final changes from there. When that is complete it then gets copy edited. All in all that is a few months worth of work.

I will still post later on introducing some of the Angels to everyone though.

Of Angels and Olympians, that is the working Title of the fantasy book I have written

Of Angels and Olympians takes place before man walked the earth, God wanted to create beings like himself to share in the creations of the worlds and universes, so he created the Titans, who in turn created the Olympians (Greek Gods), the Titans turned on God and stormed the seat of God in hopes of over throwing him and claiming the Heavens and planets for themselves , where the Olympians changed sides and helped God lock the Titans into another realm, eons later after spending most of their time creating their subjects, more evil and more powerful then even they could of imagined, they escape that realm and wage war against God and the Olympians........ seeing that he was losing the war with the Titans, God creates the Angels, and that is where this story starts off, at the very birth of the Angels.
Book one focuses on the Angels, with the help of the Olympians,  specifically Hermes, and their journey to the seat of God, and the battles and betrayals along the way.

I actually wrote this book in a different fashion, but after spending over a year working with a publisher and after several rewrites they decided to pass. I then started working with an editor who really liked the story and suggested some really great changes and pitched me on making this a bunch of Novellas. So we have enough for a few books and will be releasing one every six months. I have several other ones I am fixing up also that I will be publishing also, but just want to get my feet wet with this one first. THe others are completely different series.

In a couple of days I will introduce everyone to some of the characters in the book.