Book Sale! The Fylking Omnibus

Hello Beautiful Campers,

Spring is always a good time for a book sale, and an even better time for a fantasy book sale because, well, when isn’t a good time for a fantasy book sale? Oh, and the darker the better. Immortal warlords, swords, sorcery, wolves, warlocks, Norse themes and heroes battling the forces of the Otherworld. Just in time for next week’s solar eclipse. Heh.

Now through Easter Sunday, get the Fylking Omnibus for only $1.99! This is 75% off the normal price of $7.99. Cheep! Cheep! Cheep! (Those are birds.)

In the worlds of their dominion they are called the Fylking, lovers of strife, song and steel, an immortal race of warriors akin to the Otherworld. Their empires span the heavens; their deities, ruled by the elusive Raven God, embody the forces of war, wisdom, passion and nature. This series tells the exploits of the Fylking and their mortal observers — warriors, royals, seers, lovers, warlocks and mercenaries — generations upon generations coexisting in uneasy peace with the Gods of War. “The tone is excellent, reminiscent of some of the earliest examples of grim Norse fantasy.” – G.R. Matthews, Fantasy Faction

This omnibus edition includes both books in the series, Outpost and The Wolf Lords, a map and a glossary. You can get your copy at one of the outlets below. Happy reading!

Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Apple
Kobo

© F.T. McKinstry 2024. All Rights Reserved.

Monsters, Books and Liminal Spaces


Greetings, Trick or Treaters!

So I have this new favorite word: liminal. It means relating to, or being in an intermediate state, in-between, not one place or the other. It beautifully describes those mysterious, shady places that occur in nature, such as twilight, the edge of a river or pond, the space where a forest meets a field, or the veil between the mortal world and the otherworld. It can also refer to a state of consciousness or an aspect of life in which a person is in transition, suspended in that frustrating hinterland where everything is still for a time.

October is a liminal time of year, when the sun drifts lower in the sky and shines through tall trees, casting long shadows. The wind is cold, whispery and strong. This shift culminates on All Hallows’ Eve, when spirits and dark things emerge from the veil between the worlds, curious and enraged. This is the realm of not only honoring the shadows, but facing them: the beast in the dark you don’t see coming, or that keeps rising again and again no matter how many times you kill it, and will shred you like a cabbage if it catches you. This can be transformative or terrifying—usually the latter.

Some souls are more attracted to monsters, cliffs and chasms than others. It’s a dirty job. Personally, while I love a good science experiment gone bad, my favorite monsters are those that are themselves liminal: shapeshifters, vampires, elves, draugr, demons and the like. Fae cursing humans. A river or a tree that can devour you. That eerie feeling of being watched from the eaves of a twilit forest.

Naturally, this comes out in the things I write. A shrink might say that’s healthy or even necessary, to give my personal monsters some airtime. Well. Maybe. Assuming I have a choice.

Ahem. Anyway, if you like dark fantasy, here are some offerings:


The Chronicles of Ealiron.
This series involves the shady exploits of an assassin who is trained in magic and has an inborn talent for sensing and trafficking with the darker forces of nature. By way of his penchant for getting into trouble with all the wrong kinds of things, you’ll find powerful witches, apparitions, curses, immortal predators, sea monsters, evil gods and wizards behaving very badly.

The Fylking. This series takes place in a war-torn realm occupied by immortal warriors who for millennia have used it as a military outpost. Magicians, shapeshifters and masters of the liminal, these beings maintain an interdimensional portal that has, over the centuries, caused the natural veil between the worlds to thin. When their enemies come to play, all manner of things come to life: tricky gods, sorcery, draugr, goblins, immortal warlocks, elves, demons and an order of witches founded by an ancient king to honor the magic practiced by their immortal overlords.

A Northward Gaze. A gothic fantasy novella. This is a wicked dark tale with a silver thread. Neurotic family, old tricky forest bordering the estate, a string of unexplained deaths. A sensitive, hypervigilant young woman who sees things in the floral patterns of her bedroom wallpaper.

And elves. These aren’t the goofy little characters you see in Christmas specials. No, this lot plays for keeps. The forest is theirs—and so is our protagonist.

She leaves a trail of monsters, brutes and fools on her way across the threshold.

 
Stay safe, stay sane, and remember: “Fun Size” is a shameless marketing euphemism.

© F.T. McKinstry 2023. All Rights Reserved.

October Dark Fantasy Book Sale


Greetings, spooky peeps!

It’s that time of year again. Flying leaves, dark windy nights, black cats in menacing poses, and pumpkin spice 🤮.

Time for a treat! October 8-10, both books in The Fylking series will be on sale on Amazon: Outpost will be FREE; and The Wolf Lords will be $2.99. Better than a king-size Snickers bar. Well, okay, that’s a weighty claim, but books won’t make your teeth rot. Probably.

Enjoy yourselves, stay safe and if you’re into pumpkin spice, I forgive you.

Little Tree, by F.T. McKinstry

Outpost Cover ArtOutpost, Book One in The Fylking.

A race of immortal warriors who live by the sword.
A gate between the worlds.
Warriors, royals, seers and warlocks living in uneasy peace on one side of the Veil.
Until now.

“The tone is excellent, reminiscent of some of the earliest examples of grim Norse fantasy.” – G.R. Matthews, Fantasy Faction
SPFBO Finalist

Amazon
Also available on Kindle Unlimited.

The Wolf Lords Cover ArtThe Wolf Lords, Book Two in The Fylking.

A wounded immortal warlock bent on reprisal.
An ancient order of sorcerers hungry for power.
Warriors beset by armies of demons and immortals.
And a lonely hedge witch whose dark secrets could change everything.
…If only they could find her.

“This is a gem of a novel.” – Leslie Jones, Readers’ Favorite

Amazon
Also available on Kindle Unlimited.

Masters of the Veil, Book 3 in The Fylking..

The war is over. The Fylking’s ancient enemy was destroyed, and the Veil between the worlds has been restored. Mortals have buried their dead and begun to heal despite the specters of war haunting their dreams.

But there was one thing no one, mortals and immortals alike, had considered as they put the High Warlock of Chaos to a fiery sword.

His master.

Coming in 2024.

© F.T. McKinstry 2023. All Rights Reserved.

Masters of the Veil

Masters of the Veil Cover Art

 

———  U P C O M I N G  ———

Welcome to the official page for Masters of the Veil, Book Three in The Fylking. This novel is in the works. It’s big, bad and beautiful, and it will, barring some silly life catastrophe I’ll probably never tell you about, be out in 2024.

The War of the Veil, they called it, the last in the nine-millennium occupation of the Fylking, immortal overlords of the mortal realm of Dyrregin. Their ancient enemy, a fiendish warlock named Vaethir, wove an intricate spell that compromised the Veil between the worlds and flooded Dyrregin with armies of demons, dark elves and Niflsekt before stalwart mortals with reckless connections to the Otherworld called in some favors.

Scarred yet undaunted, the Fylking’s mortal allies, including seasoned warriors haunted by grief and trauma, an order of witches who serve the old gods, and powerful seers who tend the Fylking’s interests in the mortal world, have returned to their lives to rebuild the realm and bury their dead. And while the Fylking repaired the Veil as only they could, no one trusts the sanctity of liminal spaces as they had before the war.

As warriors know, the lingering effects of war often appear as nightmares, flashbacks and the resurrection of old fears. But distrust deepens when an outbreak of attacks from the Otherworld begins to spread, marked by encounters with dark, dangerous beings that seem to target those most deeply wounded and sensitive to the unseen.

Despite this, mortals and immortals alike take comfort in Vaethir’s demise, knowing the warlock will never again return to wreak his personal vengeance on the realm. But there is one thing they had not counted on, as they put the Fylking’s most redoubtable foe to a fiery sword.

His master.

Little Tree, by F.T. McKinstry

Outpost Cover ArtOutpost, Book One in The Fylking.

A race of immortal warriors who live by the sword.
A gate between the worlds.
Warriors, royals, seers and warlocks living in uneasy peace on one side of the Veil.
Until now.

“The tone is excellent, reminiscent of some of the earliest examples of grim Norse fantasy.” – G.R. Matthews, Fantasy Faction
SPFBO Finalist
Read for free on Kindle Unlimited.

The Wolf Lords Cover ArtThe Wolf Lords, Book Two in The Fylking.

A wounded immortal warlock bent on reprisal.
An ancient order of sorcerers hungry for power.
Warriors beset by armies of demons and immortals.
And a lonely hedge witch whose dark secrets could change everything.
…If only they could find her.

“This is a gem of a novel.” – Leslie Jones, Readers’ Favorite
Read for free on Kindle Unlimited.

 
 
© F.T. McKinstry 2023. All Rights Reserved.

Otherworld Deviltry and the Crossroads Metaphor

One of the staples of folklore, legends and fairy tales is making deals with the Powers That Be (Rumpelstiltskin, The Girl without Hands, Nix by the Mill Pond). This might be motivated by curiosity or longing; but most often, it’s an attempt to escape a desperate situation. This can be something as simple as praying for deliverance in return for, say, a promise to be a better person next time. (Good luck with that.)

Or, it can take the shape of a classic deal with the devil, and we all know what that will get you. Bad things.

Sometimes, if you’re not only desperate but close to the veil, the otherworld might seek you out. This happens to the protagonist of The Sea Witch’s Bargain, a short story about an ordinary hedge witch with some heavy otherworld connections. While on the run from a brotherhood of sorcerers, she unwittingly enters the lair of a sea witch, a devious, malevolent creature who tricks her into performing a dangerous task in return for help in escaping her situation. This is non-negotiable, of course.

Any divine entity worth its salt will guide you to find your own strength because let’s face it, one desperate situation often leads to another, and the universe isn’t your personal wizard. But why summon your own strength when you can play with fire and summon something from the otherworld? That’s easier and much more exciting. You’ll get what you ask for, even if it’s stupid. And you might even be happy for a time—until your payment comes due.

An otherworld being like a demon, a jinn or an elf serves itself. It will look upon your troubles with cavalier disdain and will demand a high price for its services, a price it won’t bother to mention, or sounds simple enough, or couldn’t possibly be as bad as your original problem. Thou fool! These beings are tricky and they don’t lose. And, well, you signed in blood on the dotted line, didn’t you.

The Crossroads

Crossroads symbolism appears in ancient religions, medieval folklore and hoodoo (Faust, Robert Johnson). The place where two paths meet is liminal, like a gate, the border of a forest, a well, a cave, etc. These places hold power because they are between the worlds, a point of transition. They are also frequented by beings on the other side who are looking for a foothold in this world. Tales abound of idiots who use crossroads to summon otherworld entities for personal gain. This usually involves a sacrifice, whether it is something the summoner offers up, is demanded by the summoned, or both.

While folklore advises steering clear of crossroads, it is a powerful psychological metaphor. We’ve all reached crossroads in our lives, where we must choose a path that involves letting go of something we’re attached to. This could be an old pattern, an outworn belief, something like that. And who hasn’t tried wriggling out of doing that by bargaining with one’s demons? Those kinds of choices can bind us in unhappy situations for years.

My original idea for A Northward Gaze involved a woman in an old manor house who sees faces and shapes in the floral patterns of her bedroom wallpaper. As darkness unfolds, however, she discovers a devastating family curse that began with a three-centuries-old crossroads bargain with the Elven Fae. Beautiful, terrible, inscrutable and utterly seductive, the elves will continue their unholy rampage unless she gives up the one thing most dear to her in all the world. Because the most powerful choices require the greatest sacrifices.

For examples of what not to do on a crossroads, you can read A Northward Gaze on Amazon for much cheaper than an elf would charge you. Enjoy…and be careful what you wish for.

© F.T. McKinstry 2023. All Rights Reserved.

The Metamorphosis of a Book Cover

Earlier this year, I released a novella called The Crossroads Bargain, a gothic fantasy tale about an old forest with a dark history, a tryst with an elven lord, a lot of unexplained deaths and disappearances, and a faerie curse cast in a centuries-old crossroads bargain.

I created the cover art in the usual way. But for some reason, it unsettled me; it wasn’t quite what I was looking for. There were nervous whispers. I brushed them aside, knowing full well how reckless that is.

Just recently, I did a painting of a scene from the book, in which our protagonist, a sensitive, tormented sort, fades into the faerie realm and there sees the hall of an elven lord tucked into the forest. As I worked on this, a calm whisper suggested that it might make a good cover image.

Okay but I’m keeping that spiderweb.

Then, I suddenly thought of a title, from a saying in the story that describes what to do on a crossroads if you want to summon something from the otherworld:

A northward gaze; a wish as clear as a mountain stream; and a willingness to sacrifice the unimaginable.

Yeah, that little bit of advice causes all manner of horrors, by the way. But never mind that. My new cover came together so beautifully, I decided to change it. It captures the vibe of the story well.

A Northward Gaze is now available on Amazon. Oh, and about those crossroads instructions. Don’t try that shit at home.

© F.T. McKinstry 2023. All Rights Reserved.

A Northward Gaze, A Novella

Previously published as The Crossroads Bargain by F.T. McKinstry.

Elspet’s mother died between the worlds, staring with eyes of lily white. A common occurrence in their bloodline, it is said. Denied a grave in hallowed ground, she is now only a whisper in the dark forest that borders the estate.

Grieving amidst a turbulent household of superstitious servants, the mysterious departure of her father, and an ambitious aunt with a draconian agenda, Elspet begins to see faces and shapes in the floral patterns of her bedroom wallpaper. Only she knows the reason for the series of grisly, unexplained deaths that follow her seduction by the beautiful elven lord who appears to her amidst the faded leaves.

What Elspet doesn’t know is the high cost of consorting with the Fae. For not even her mother’s books, the village witch, or the Fae themselves can stop her inexorable descent into the labyrinth of a faerie curse put on her bloodline in a centuries-old crossroads bargain—a curse she can only end with blood magic and the name of her lover’s most terrible enemy.

Novella, 120 pages

Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Apple
Kobo
Google Play

© F.T. McKinstry 2023. All Rights Reserved.

Tolkien Meets Poe

I am a passionate and dedicated fan of high fantasy; that is, any world other than this one and preferably one that smacks of a fairy tale, though not in a wholesome way. You know, like those old, dark Irish or German fairy tales that are not written for children. Beautiful things cast long shadows, and the summit is never far from the abyss kind of thing. Think J.R.R. Tolkien meets Edgar Allan Poe.

I started reading these authors roughly around the same time, when I was a kid in the 70s. Tolkien changed my life, I’ll just say that. Among other things, Poe’s short stories and a steady diet of Dark Shadows messed me up properly and got me hooked on Gothic Horror.

So this kind of crept up on me recently, the way the universe sometimes gives you a bitch slap so you’ll recognize what you’ve been looking at all along. While I love Gothic Horror, especially the supernatural–ghosts, werewolves, vampires, witches and the like–I never sat down and tried to write something like that, not specifically. But it was there nonetheless, slinking around in my work like a shadow in the corner of my eye.

Then this happened: A story flashed into my head. It was right out of one of those 60s pulp Gothic Horror novels, with a voluptuous sex kitten in a white nightgown fleeing over the moors from a black castle on the hill. It also featured the kind of fairytale lore I like to write into high fantasy novels. Yeah. My subsequent internal dialogue went something like this:

Writer me: I don’t know how to write this stuff.
Smarter me: You’ve been writing this stuff for years.
Writer me: Rubbish. This isn’t fantasy.
Smarter me: Um. It has elves in it.
Writer me: So. He’s not–
Smarter me: He’s a fucking elf. Beautiful, moves between the worlds, enchanting, seductive, and sneaky. So he’s not from the House of Fëanor, big deal.
Writer me: It’ll suck. You suck.
Smarter me: Whatever. Get to work.

So I did. It’s a novella called A Northward Gaze. A manor hall bordering an old forest with a dark history, a family curse, a string of grisly, unexplained deaths and a fey young woman who sees otherworld beings in the floral patterns of her bedroom wallpaper. Spoiler alert: Our aforementioned elf is one of them and he’s up to no good. Well, maybe. Maybe not. The Fae are tricky like that.

 
 
 
 
© F.T. McKinstry 2023. All Rights Reserved.

The Rise and Fall of Lovely Sentences

Redcap. One of the most malevolent beings of the Otherworld, the goblin liked to tease Twigs with trickery, such as leaving a fetid bouquet of her mother’s favorite flowers on the steps, or offering deadly mushrooms for a soup, laughing as she refused. But as surely as the sun set each day, the wicked creature would have something far darker in mind, something that would result in a big enough puddle of blood in which to soak its cap. – From Masters of the Veil, Book Three in The Fylking

One of the grimmest realities of writing is the fickle nature of words. Sometimes, a sentence, phrase or passage comes out of the void on an angel’s wings and reminds us why we do this. And we need that reminder. Because most of the time, we have no idea why we do this.

A written work such as a novel is an ever moving, flowing being with its own agenda. Not every sentence has its place in the overall scheme of things, no matter how pretty it is. If you’re good at editing–and by that I mean you are a cold, merciless bastard–you’ll get wise to this. Sometimes, that beautiful sentence you thought of three months ago isn’t quite so beautiful anymore. It doesn’t fit, it’s irrelevant, purplish or flawed, and you would be a vain little fop to leave it in there. Your editor will surely cut it–because there’s that other thing…oh yeah, readers. Just because you think it’s a beautiful sentence doesn’t mean they will. Someone might read it, yawn and think, “What rubbish.” So there’s that.

This is the kind of thing that drives authors to drown themselves in scotch and spend the night sobbing and pissing in a gutter somewhere.

But there is hope. Your ability to bring up that beautiful sentence will allow you to bring up another, and another, and on, because creativity is infinite and ever-expanding. It is always fresh because things are constantly dying and falling away to make room for other things in a much greater picture. Just look at nature. It keeps growing, cycling and expanding, and it is always what it is. Writing is like that.

So be warned: now and then, I might play the Insufferable Writer card and drop a sentence or three out here for you to read.

If nothing else, you’ll know I’m actually working on my next book.

© F.T. McKinstry 2022. All Rights Reserved.

The Old One

In the Chronicles of Ealiron, the Old One is a primordial goddess of nature, life, death, and transformation. Often referred to as Maern, which means “mother” in the wizard’s tongue, she is unknowable in her true form, but perceived as the concept of the Triple Goddess, a being that comprises three aspects of the Divine Feminine integrated as one: Maiden, Mother and Crone. These aspects exist and are manifested in all things, whether nature, events or the shadows of the psyche.

In the world of Ealiron, wizards govern balance in the realms and gods walk among them; but both mortals and immortals revere the Old One as sovereign. While referred to as a deity, she is more like a force underlying all things. She is inexorable; she is wyrd; she is the void from which all creation emerges. Life always comes, it preserves itself to its own expression, and all things die. She is the power by which consciousness knows itself.

Maiden

She was the first woman, the only woman, the one all women knew. She was as pure as the first breath, soft as flowers and fresh cream as she yielded to him, her cry blowing through the tree in the swirling language of the lair as he broke through her maidenhead and into the eternal warmth and safety of a mother’s womb. – From The Winged Hunter

The Maiden emerges from the void as new: birth, spring, desire, unfolding. She is the individuality of a bud, an egg or a fresh idea, innocent of darkness. Her light shines like a beacon attracting its own demise, as the cycle begins.

© F.T. McKinstry

Mother

She was all cycles, all changes, all movements in the shapes of waves, circles, wells, and caves protecting the wounded. – From The Winged Hunter

The Mother is the abundance of life. She nourishes, grows, heals and protects. She is the exuberance of a blooming garden in full summer, the blush and glow of pregnancy, the instinct of a mother protecting her offspring and the healing of a warrior’s wounds.

Crone

The Destroyer curled her body with supple grace, caressing the depths. She moved up towards the shimmering surface in a silent spiral, hungry and inexorable. To be worthy of providing a vessel in which to hide her child, these mortals would surrender to the forces that gave him life. – From The Gray Isles

The Crone is the Unknown, the Void, Formlessness, that from which all things come and to which all things must return, from a blade of grass to a galaxy. Hers is the power of death, transformation, rebirth and regeneration. All things must pass through the darkness to know the light, and it is usually through her that one can perceive the aspects of the Old One as inseparable. There can be no birth without death; no protection without swords; no healing without destruction; and no innocence that cannot fall. Likewise, there can be no destruction without rebirth. Every phase of life depends on the other.

Little Tree, by F.T. McKinstry

The Old One appears in one shape or another throughout the Chronicles of Ealiron and many of the short stories in Wizards, Woods and Gods.

 
© F.T. McKinstry 2021. All Rights Reserved.