Darkling 2: The Dragon and The Prince by J.R. Kennedy


Raemon has been betrayed. His entire life he had been told that a demon had been placed inside him by the gods; that he was meant to live a life of austerity and confinement, so that the demon could never break free.

It was all a lie. Now he knows that his family is in danger. 

Back at Heartstone, where all of his family has been imprisoned, the Brotherhood of the Gate are keeping watch. What they want from the Repentors, Raemon doesn't know. He only knows they are in danger.

With Raemon gone, his companion Prince Erland is lost. Alone in the northern kingdom of Belak, knowing if he returns home, he will be killed, Erland decides to remain in the north. That decision changes, when he is kidnapped by the women who were sent to kill him.

Excerpt:

Erland laughed caustically. “You would say that, you’ve killed for gold, haven’t you? Money is not a cause, it’s a result.”

Shadows eyes narrowed briefly.

“What, then?” she asked. That Erland no longer feared them was a little surprising, but they had already told him that they were not going to kill him. What was more perplexing was the familiarity with which he spoke.

Erland mimicked her, narrowing his eyes, then smiled, “Selfishness. People want to have things that other people don’t possess. It’s part of our nature. Everyone wants to be better than everyone else. I can accept that from people. What I cannot accept is the selfishness of a god.” Erland turned away. 
“Kill me now. Get paid.” Erland said miserably.

“Terra was never selfish.” Shadow said angrily, stepping closer.

“You weren’t there!” Erland raised his voice menacingly.

“She told us what she told you. I didn’t hear a thing that could be called selfish. She was afraid, yes, but not selfish.”

Erland picked up a stone and threw it at Mirror. Mirror caught it and threw it back. Erland ducked the projectile.

“Action and reaction!” He laughed, his eyes rolling back, “We may never understand it, but everything’s connected. I throw a stone, I make you mad. There’s that word again!” The unhealthy laughter continued. “A god refused to help me. My reaction? I wish I were dead.”

“She didn’t refuse to help you, she asked you to help her!” Shadow’s brow knit with confusion as her voice raise in anger.

“You didn’t ask her for anything.” Mirror added.

Erland’s laugh trailed away. “She told me that I wasn’t insane.”

“And that’s somehow a bad thing?”

“She lied,” Erland spat. “She wouldn’t fix what’s wrong with me.”


Alex and the Wolpertinger: The Monster Inn (PRINT)

LadyBee Publishing is proud to announce the release of our first Print book, from Internationally acclaimed author, Koos Verkaik. Discover the wonderful world of Alex and the Wolpertinger, Verkaik’s exciting fantasy/adventure series for children of all ages!


Alex and The Wolpertinger: The Monster Inn
(Book One)
First English/North American Paperback edition
Releasing – December 16, 2015

Available from Amazon or Createspace

Never trust a wolpertinger! For wolpertingers only give you troubles! Still, once, a long time ago, there was a boy who made friends with a wolpertinger. That was Alex, the boy from the Alps, who lived in the land of the giant king Clover and traveled through the Downhills–
together with Ludo the wolpertinger. They had many wonder adventures, and this is how they met.

Excerpt:

Rumour has it that the land of King Clover, which is situated in the large country of Bavaria, has the shape of a four-leaf clover. Should you be able to fly as high as a swallow, you would see that the land consists of four equal parts.

King and Queen Clover live in Northland, where you will find the high Alps.

Their son Prime built his castle in Southland, where the deep lakes are filled with fish.
Prince Dozen, the middle son, reigns in Eastland.

Ruff Rumble, the youngest prince, built a castle of black granite in Westland. Everybody calls it Robber’s Nest, and I work there in the kitchen...

Oh, by the way, my name is Alex. I am only a boy. But I have had many adventures. Together with Shabby Tabby Chum, an old grey tomcat.

If I start by telling you that the cat and I can talk to each other and that I am as small as he is, nobody will believe me—let alone that I claim that Shabby Tabby Chum and I have made friends with a wolpertinger... Better that I tell everything from the beginning, from the moment I stood eye to eye with this giant prince Ruff Rumble of Westland.

Join the adventure: Amazon or Createspace

Visit Koos and the Wolpertinger Museum at:


The Elf Who Stole the North Wind by Cynthia MacGregor


A mischievous elf nearly ruins Christmas for everyone with his practical jokes. Will Santa have the last laugh and finally get the best of trickster elf Pesterly?

Excerpt: 

A little while later, as Santa was continuing to work on figuring out the route he would take this year, Pesterly opened the door from the workshop and walked over to Santa’s desk.

“Want to see something?” he asked. “Bodkins has me working on little squeaky toys for babies. He said as long as I was used to working around rabbits and chickens, I might like working on animal toys. See this one; it’s a mouse. It squeaks when you squeeze it. I brought it for you to see.”

Santa took the toy mouse from Pesterly and squeezed it. He expected to hear it squeak. Instead, water squirted into his face!

Pesterly laughed very hard as Santa reached for his handkerchief. He laughed some more as Santa mopped his soaked face and dabbed at the water that had splashed down to his desk. 

Something small and round had fallen out of Santa’s pocket when he pulled out the handkerchief. Pesterly looked at it. “What’s that?” he asked.

“That’s to cover Rudolph’s nose with when we’re just driving around locally. The last time we went into town, all the other drivers thought it was a stop light. We held up traffic for quite some time while he was parked. Now I have to cover his nose whenever we go into town, unless it's foggy and I really need his nose to see by.” He dabbed at his face again, but by now his handkerchief was pretty wet.

Pesterly pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and thrust it toward Santa. “Here,” he offered. “Use mine.”

Santa took it and started to dry his face with it, but immediately he began sneezing. Ahh-CHOOOO! Ah-CHOOOO! Ah-CHOOOO! Ah-CHOOO!”

Pesterly grinned. “Just a little joke, Santa. It’s pepper,” he said.

Santa didn’t think it was funny. “That’s two so-called jokes within the first fifteen minutes after I hired you. I don’t like practical jokes, and I don’t want you pulling any more of your pranks.”

Pesterly was still grinning, but he said, “I’m sorry, Santa, I won’t do it again.” Then he turned and went out the door to the workshop.