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
Thank you for hosting today!
ReplyDeleteHi there - Great post. Thanks! :)
ReplyDeleteD. Coto (fictionzeal.com) - Pit Crew