About The Author
A lifetime resident of the Washington, DC area, K.M. Woodard has always enjoyed the outdoors and loves to travel. After working 17 years with the MetLife Insurance Company, she pursued her career as a Federal Law Enforcement Agent with Homeland Security and has a Master’s Degree in Criminology. A true Tolkien fan, her passion for medieval and ancient times and her personal travel adventures often inspire ideas for new books. Her active imagination and fascination with escaping reality to a world of enchantment, mystery and suspense has resulted in a series of novels sure to delight readers looking for fast-paced adventure at every twist and turn, interspersed with a smidgen of humor.
Wizdom didn't know dragons really existed. He's never ridden a white woolly mammoth or flown on a griffin. He's never known a real king or a princess or been friends with a goblin. Wizdom's never seen elves that glow blue all the time. All he's ever known are his adoptive mother and his aunt Kayden. One day he finds himself in a secret world, face to face with dragons and fire monsters. He meets an interesting girl, Pandora, who he learns is no ordinary girl, just as he is no ordinary boy. Wizdom soon finds himself on a magical journey full of secrets, sorcery, danger and evil. He fights many fierce battles and faces certain death as his quest leads him on an adventure like never before as he discovers his true identity . . . or does he?
A Young Adult/Fiction/Fantasy
Enjoy an excerpt
Wizdom stared in awe, unconsciously holding his breath, as
he looked up the endless staircase of gleaming black marble
before him. The air around him was damp and musty and tickled his
nostrils. Cobwebs hung overhead, dangling high above him from the
towering ceiling. Perched at the top of the stairs was a large, golden
dragon throne. Sitting on white marble, it was surrounded by statues
of goblins, gargoyles and other strange creatures. They all stared back
disconcertingly at Wizdom, some with tongues out, others with piercing
eyes, bared teeth or pointed ears. The dragon’s head held its mouth
agape, as if ready to devour him, revealing a long golden tongue jutting
out and sharp pointed teeth. The arms of the throne were created by
the front legs of the dragon and the claws made up the feet of the chair.
A huge tail jutted out from the back of the chair and coiled around
to the front like a sitting cat. Three spikes on the tail’s end glistened
in piercing diamond shards. Giant wings stood out from the dragon’s
back, poised for flight, black and shimmering like dark sapphires. Its
eyes were large rubies, and its body was sprinkled in faceted jewels.
Two spiraling horns jutted out from its head, over a foot of solid gold,
with diamonds on the tips. Held within the horns shone an enormous
crimson red stone, casting an eerie glow and dancing shadows over the
stone statues surrounding it.
What was this place? Where was he? He dared to move forward,
ever so slowly, toward this great altar. His pulse racing, palms sweating,
he paused momentarily, staring up at the dragon’s red gleaming eyes.
As he approached the stairs, the dragon’s fiery eyes stared down at him
unnervingly, as if it was alive, watching him.
Wizdom wondered about how he had gotten there. How did he
get here? He glanced around the great hall surrounding him. Flickering
candles, sconces and torches aligned the walls of marbled stone. The
ceiling was several stories high and great pillars supported the wooden
arches above him. Shadows and darkness surrounded him, except for
the faint glow of the iron torches, and the scarlet glow of the jewel
radiating from the dragon’s crown jewel. He could feel some sort of
power emanating from it as he stood there. It made him feel happy and
safe, despite his surroundings.
Suddenly, he saw movement out of the corner of his left eye. He
looked quickly, but saw nothing. Turning to scurrying sounds to his
right, he still saw nothing but black. Was he imagining things? Because
of the obscuring darkness, he could not see very far, only as far as the
torches lining the walls. He was only eleven but he was an adventurer
and never scared and despite his current situation, he normally loved
mysteries and secret places. Unconsciously, his pulse kept racing as
the silence crept eerily around him…
BLITZ MEANS EVERYWHERE