Book Marketing for Indie Authors

I’ve learned so much about book marketing the last couple of months that I could probably write a whole new novel about the topic (and if the market wasn’t so saturated already, I might even consider it). Many indie authors will tell you they hate marketing and they would much prefer for someone else to do it on their behalf, but strangely enough, I’m actually really enjoying it. And that’s very weird coming from someone as introverted as I am (INTJ FTW!).

Enjoying it and being successful at it are two different things though. So far I’ve not had the greatest return on investment (time and money-wise), but what little traction I’ve gained I’m happy with. I know this is a long-term game and I’m ready to enjoy the journey.

Here are some of the things I’ve done and a few things I’m yet to do:

  • I’ve revamped this website. If you’ve been here from the very beginning you’ll remember I had an awfully generic template that did nothing to showcase what my writing is about. I’m much happier with the site now and I can’t stop staring at that gorgeous main page image of Una the unicorn.
  • I’ve created a landing page where potential readers can subscribe to my mailing list and receive a free novelette in return.
  • I ran a month-long Facebook ad to send that link out into the world and it’s gained me 11 new subscribers. I was hoping for more, but hey, that’s 11 more than I had before.
  • I’ve added the link to the landing page at the front and back of the stories that are already for sale.
  • I’ve set up email automation to welcome new subscribers and hopefully get them to engage with me on a more personal level (currently only 3 mails deep, I probably still need to expand on this a bit, but we’ll see).
  • I’m currently testing out the 30-day free trial on Instafreebie to see if I can gain more subscribers there, although I’ve heard that the quality of subscribers you get aren’t always good, so I’m not too worried about signing up for now.
  • I want to register with Bookfunnel to help me streamline sending out the free story, beta reader and ARC copies.
  • I’ve segmented my mailing list into beta readers and ARC readers, but I still need to invite an ARC team. I’m not too worried about that at this stage, because my awesome betas function as ARCs too (lucky girl).
  • I’ve signed up for Reedsy’s “Ultimate Book Marketing Plan” course and need to work my way through that (Reedsy’s free courses have been invaluable and I highly recommend them to anyone starting out on the indie publishing journey). I’ve also read a few e-books on book marketing that have reiterated everything that I’d already learned from Reedsy courses.
  • I also want to learn a little more about Amazon algorithms and see if it would be worthwhile trying out an Amazon advertisement.
  • I somehow need to convince the few readers I have to leave reviews on either Amazon or Goodreads. Time to brainstorm.
  • I want to find book review bloggers who are willing to review indie-published short stories and novelettes. These guys and gals are scarce as chicken teeth.

So, there you have some idea of what I’ve been doing behind the scenes lately. It’s been an incredibly interesting process and I learn something new every day.

Finally, I know that the best marketing tool for a book is the next book, so I’ve been squeezing in writing time whenever I can (although I still haven’t managed to get up at 5AM yet!). Watch this space…

Where are you on your indie author journey? Do you have any advice for me on how to get my work in front of more people and gain more subscribers? As a reader, what do you think I should do to market my books better?

Penthesilea’s Demise

© Unknown

The clash of weapons reverberates through the air, humid and hot and heavy with the stench of sweat and blood and ash. A moan escapes the lips of the man before me and I pull my sword out of his stomach as his eyes glaze over, his gaze already drawn past the scorched walls of this great city and towards the Elysian fields, forsaking this mortal body with its gaping wound and its insides spilling out.

An arrow flies past my head. I duck instinctively and roll to avoid the stab of an enemy spear. I am back on my feet before the soldier recovers from his thrust. Surprise flickers across his face, perhaps only now noticing the curvature of my body underneath the boiled leather harness, or from the shock of my knife entering the exposed spot in his bronze breastplate and penetrating his armpit. I cannot tell. It doesn’t matter. Blood gurgles from his mouth.

I move on. Death follows in my wake.

Just as I can no longer stand the stench, my mouth foul with the taste of rising bile and my hands spattered red, the wind changes and fresh air tickles across my face. For a moment, the carnage surrounding me diminishes as if it were an evil dream, and memories of home flash across my mind’s eye.

Memories of the verdant steppes stretching out as far as the sun reaches, of riding bareback on powerful steeds, the wind whipping my long hair behind me. I see Themiscyra shining brightly in the moonlight reflecting off the calm waters of the lake beside it. I see hands stretched out in worship towards the goddess, moon mother, mother of all, life-giver. I see warriors training for battle. I see her, nodding with approval as my arrow hits its mark. I see her hand stretched out to me as she helps me to my feet again, my backside and my ego bruised by her prowess.

And then I see her, no longer a vision but flesh and blood, crumpling to the ground.

A scream rips the air apart, silence trailing behind it. My throat burns.

The world is me and her and the man who looms over her body. A tall warrior, gleaming in bronze armour, muscles slick with sweat, a red plume trailing from his helmet. A hero.

A monster.

He bends over her, his murderous hands remove her helmet. Blonde hair spills across her already-pale face. A smile plays across his lips.

White hot rage. A wordless roar.

The man looks up, startled, his eyes locking with mine.

Adrenaline pushes me forward.

He picks up a spear. Muscles ripple with the powerful throw.

The impact sends me sprawling.

I lie on my back, remembering the wind, the open sky, freedom. A beautiful woman’s smile, a young man’s obsession, and a wooden horse. So dies all that I hold dear.

The light fades. With my last breath, I turn my head to look at her. My fingers tremble as I try to reach for her, but my strength has fled.

Darkness overwhelms me.

Drawing Inspiration from Travel

One of the things that make my soul sing is exploring the world and I’ve been blogging about travel since 2009. I’ve been fortunate enough to have visited most of Europe, various African countries, and Singapore and Thailand. I’ve even been deep inside the Arctic Circle in search of the northern lights.

Exploring the world is a thrill like no other, and while I’m currently staying close to home until my little one can endure a 12-hour flight, my feet remain itchy and my thoughts often wander to faraway places.

Ah, Venice – one of my favourite places!

Luckily I can draw inspiration from all the places I’ve been and the sights I’ve seen and I use them to infuse my writing. My Mythical Menagerie series was conceived in part specifically as a way to revisit all the cities I love. The first novelette in the series, Beginner’s Luck, is set in London. The prequel, Keeper of Exotic Animals, plays out somewhere in the Alps. I’m currently working on the second installment, which is based in Paris. I have so many ideas for this series that I can hardly keep my excitement contained!

While I’ve, regrettably, not yet had the chance to set foot in the US, my short story Spirit Caller was inspired by my desperate need to see the wild places of America. I want to hear a wolf howl and see redwoods and stand in the shadows of El Capitan and watch a bald eagle soar high overhead.

As both a writer and an avid reader, I’m lucky enough to be able to escape to all these wonderful places, both real and imaginary, on a regular basis. Reading about exotic places is what I do to keep the wanderlust at bay. I’d love to take my readers on just such a journey too.

Do you enjoy travelling? Are you inspired by far-off places? Where is your favourite story set? Do you like reading (or writing) about places you’ve visited or long to see for yourself?

Game On

© Clayton Haugen

“Shit,” Nancy said.

She stared at the blank wall in front of her as if her gaze could punch a hole through it. Trapped in a room without any other exits apart from the corridor she had just run through, Nancy was out of options. A quick glance at her P228 handgun confirmed the worst: only two rounds left. Footsteps echoed behind her.

Nancy spun around to confront her assailants. Quick headcount: four attackers, all sporting heavier weaponry than her little pistol, blocked her escape. Hell, one of them had a MAC-10 sub-machine gun. Even if the guy couldn’t shoot to save his life, she was in for a bad time ambushed in this little space.

She wondered if the rest of her team were dead. No comms were incoming. Nancy weighed her options. There weren’t any. Surrender or die in a blaze of glory. Well, she wasn’t about to surrender.


Nancy had just enough warning to duck sideways before the flash-bang grenade exploded. She opened her eyes again, shaking her head, trying to discern the enemy through the smoke obscuring her vision, ignoring the ringing in her ears. There! She fired a shot and a silhouette went down hard. Three left.

But as the smoke cleared, she could see four people still moving. Nancy’s heart lurched into her throat and she ducked just in time to avoid a round of bullets aimed at her. Instinct and adrenaline fuelled her aim: two shots rang out and two bodies fell to the ground.

“What the..?” Nancy said aloud. Only one of those shots had been hers. Never mind, not important, she reminded herself. Two guys left, but now she was out of ammo.

She drew her knife. It had come down to this.

Another shot rang out and an attacker crumpled to the ground.

A text message scrolled across her communications tab:

HOTSTUD45: Ur welcome, babe. No need 4 thx 4 saving ur hot a$$.

Nancy’s cheeks flushed. She responded:

G4M3RGRL: Didn’t need help from a n00b like you.

Then the message “YOU WIN. GAME OVER” flashed across her screen and she was transported back to the loading screen.

Nancy plucked her noise-cancelling headphones off and stood up, stretching the ache out of her legs. She scanned the arena: the organised chaos of cables, monitors, and flashing computer boxes, geeks in sweaty hoodies, discarded coffee cups, half-empty boxes of pizza. It was a mess. She loved it. Too bad she drew so much attention whenever she moved. Being the only female around a horde of socially inept guys did have its disadvantages.

She had handed in a token and was watching the barista pour a large cup of coffee when someone behind her said: “You know, most guys won’t appreciate being called a noob when they’d just saved someone’s ass.”

“Let me guess – Hot Stud Forty-Five?” Nancy turned to see if his handle was as advertised. She was pleasantly surprised. He was somewhat taller than her, not as greasy or as odorous as she had expected, with a shock of blond hair falling across his face. Nice eyes, she thought as she looked him over. He grinned confidently at her. Perhaps he needed to be taken down a peg or two.

“Most girls don’t appreciate references to how hot their asses are either.”

“Noted,” he replied smoothly. “But in my defence, not a lot of Gamer Girls are actually, you know, girls.”

“So you make a habit of flirting with female avatars even though chances are there’s a guy on the other end?” Nancy smiled at the barista handing her a steaming cup of coffee. Then she reached for the sugar but paused as Hot Stud held three sachets out at her.

“Two,” she said. His fingers brushed hers as she took the sugar from him. A spark ran up her arm and then all the way down her spine. Surprised, she glanced up at his face again. He was still grinning.

He shrugged. “Was bound to get lucky at some point. How about I get you your next cup of coffee?”

“I tell you what, hotshot, how about we each go back to our seats and get back to the game?”

Finally, the smile faltered. He rubbed a hand through his hair, casting his eyes to the floor. When he looked up again, his expression was serious. “Look,” he said, all traces of the player gone now. “We may have started off on the wrong foot. I think you’re a great gamer. The way you handled that situation, that took guts. I’d like to get to know you better. IRL.”

Nancy considered. He wanted to get to know her in real life? Maybe. He did have really nice eyes. And although she wasn’t about to admit it, he had gotten her out of a sticky situation back then.

“Alright, how about this? We keep teaming up, and if we win the competition, coffee’s on me.”

The grin was ear to ear now. “Game on,” was all he said.

Inspiration Board: Spirit Caller

Readers often ask authors where they get their inspiration from. For me, characters often spark my imagination and then I build a story around them. I find these characters in the strangest of places: an avatar in a game I’m playing, an image I see on Pinterest or just a random idea that pops into my head.

The first thing I do after a story idea starts taking shape is hop onto Pinterest and find pictures of the characters and the places in my story. I always, always have an inspiration board perched precariously over my desk while I’m writing. I have trouble focussing on physical features, so it’s incredibly handy to have an image I can refer to. Description of any kind is not naturally my strong point, so whenever I get stuck, I like to look at a real-world picture of someone or somewhere and then modify it to suit my story’s vision.

The board also helps as a reminder whenever I’m in the room to stop procrastinating and sit down and write! And whenever I look at it, whether I’m busy doing my taxes or scrolling through Facebook, the pictures on display keep the current story in the back of my head, letting my subconscious work on it when I’m not actively able to do so.

This is what the inspiration board for my short story, Spirit Caller, looked like:

Spirit Caller inspiration board

It’s a little sparse, but I think you get the general idea. If you’ve read the story, I think you’ll probably know who’s who on there, even if you didn’t picture them exactly like that in your mind. That’s okay. I much prefer to give one or two defining characteristics and then let readers come up with their own images. It’s more fun for everyone involved that way. The pictures on the board are merely my way of putting shape to the people who live in my head (that sounds like I should consider making an appointment with a psychiatrist… Moving swiftly along…).

Do you enjoy these behind-the-scenes details of stories you’ve read? Would you be interested in seeing the inspiration boards for other stories, or does it spoil the vision you have in your head? Do you have inspiration boards too?

What’s up with LitRPG?

I don’t really understand LitRPG. Granted, I’ve only read one novel in the genre and it was, admittedly, mindless fun – but I still don’t really get the appeal of it.

For those of you who don’t know, LitRPG is literature (and I use this term loosely) based on role-playing games (RPGs), such as World of Warcraft or Star Wars The Old Republic, to name a few. In LitRPG stories, the main character is physically immersed in an RPG world and the reader follows their adventure as they, quite literally, level up in the game. There are stats galore as we see the character lose hit points or gain buffs or attain better gear or learn a new skill. It’s like reading about playing your favourite game.

A gnoll hits you for 5HP! Current HP: 15/20
A gnoll hits you for 5HP! Current HP: 10/20
A gnoll hits you for 5HP! Current HP: 5/20

And that’s where I fall out of the bus. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for people reading more, but really, why not just go and play the game? I reinstalled and reactivated my 18-year old Everquest account after finishing one of these books, because it made me so nostalgic about the “good old days” that I wanted to recapture the fun.

So it makes sense if the novels were written in recognisable worlds and perhaps used as marketing material for existing RPG games to get old players to come back or entice new ones, but they’re not. They’re original inventions (possibly loosely based on the writer’s own favourite game or on an old Dungeons & Dungeons campaign, but likely not). And again, I ask, what’s the point?

If you’re going to create a new fantasy world, why not write a straight-up fantasy story? Why encumber it with game mechanics? And why would you want to read about game mechanics when you can go play a game first-hand? Have we reached a new level of laziness where it’s just too much effort to play and level up a game character ourselves and would rather just lie back on the couch
and read about it instead?

Games and Books © Unknown

I can’t really comment on the quality of the genre (having read only one book), but some reviews have indicated that a great many of these LitRPG novels lack in many of the things required for a good story: well-developed characters, a coherent plot and interesting themes. Some of them are basically just a novelisation of a kill-10- rats-receive- a-reward quest line up until you’ve killed enough rats to be able to defeat the big boss. Yawn. Okay, so it’s about the little guy improving his lot in life and moving up in the world, but still, yawn.

A friend suggested that I rewrite my Everquest fan fiction as a LitRPG novel. I was tempted at first, but I’ve decided against it. I would have to change so much to make the world and the magic system unrecognisable from Norrath, and with that kind of effort I may as well just write something original.

Using your characters and campaigns for the basis of a story – that makes sense. Reading about their stats and quest progress – no thanks, I’d rather be behind the keyboard or a console any day.

Do you read or write LitRPG? What is the appeal in it for you? Can you recommend some of your favourite LitRPG novels for anyone interested in giving the genre a go?

Why You Should Consider Writing Fan Fiction

My favourite novel from 2017 was Rainbow Rowell’s Fangirl, which is about a girl who is obsessed with a fictional world, much like that of Harry Potter, and who writes fan fiction about it which is almost more popular than the author’s books themselves. It reminded me of a time when I honed my own writing skills on Everquest fan fiction. Although I limited myself to the world created for the game, fan fiction writers write about almost anything under the sun, from erotic Twilight spin-offs to alternative Buffy endings and crossovers between Shakespeare and Star Wars.

You may wonder why anyone would spend their days writing about characters and worlds they could never call their own. In my case, I enjoyed documenting and embellishing my adventures in Norrath and the stories serve as a fun reminder of the good times I had playing that game and of the friends I made there. Others like to explore the worlds of their fandoms a little bit more even when the official series has long since been completed or cancelled (oh, Firefly, how we miss you!).

Writing fan fiction is oddly liberating. There is no pressure to write well from anyone but yourself, and the world and characters have already been established, so you only need to take the story further from there. You don’t have to invent something completely new, but can build on the existing lore to explore your fandom further or from a different angle. As long as you stay true to the core of your chosen fandom, you can be as creative as you like. It’s a good way to learn the craft and mechanics of writing without being too serious about it.

Another appealing aspect of writing fan fiction is that you automatically have an engaged audience who love the story (or at least the characters and the world) as much as you do. If you publish your fiction on a reputable fan fiction site, chances are someone will read them and, if you’re lucky, engage with the story and leave comments. That kind of interaction is incredibly rewarding and motivating. You’ll be able to meet and converse with people with the same interest and, perhaps, learn a little more about what makes a good (or bad) story.

If you’re a budding writer with a passion for a particular fandom, or if you’re currently struggling with writer’s block and need a creative boost, or you want some validation from readers, then perhaps you should consider fan fiction. No matter what others may think about the value or quality of the genre, there’s no denying that it can help you hone your writing skills and perhaps even build an audience for your future original work. And hell, it’s fun, and writing should always be fun, or else why bother?

Do you write or read fan fiction? Why? What is your chosen fandom? Feel free to link to some of your fan fiction in the comments below.

Looking Ahead to 2018

As we stand with Janus, Roman god of doorways, looking both back at the past year and ahead towards the year to come, it’s customary to review what we have achieved and make plans for the future.

I like to make New Year’s resolutions. I firmly believe that you always need to strive towards something. How else can you improve yourself or reach your goals? While there are some lifestyle websites imploring people to forget about making resolutions because they set us up for inevitable failure and we’d all be much happier if we didn’t have them, I think a little failure is worth it if it helps motivate you to keep on trying again and again until you succeed.

Janus, Roman god of doorways | Adolphe Giraldon, Wikimedia Commons

Last year I had the goals of making writing a priority, finishing my novel and getting published. To that end, I quit my job and for a period of five months, tried to do just that. It didn’t work out quite as planned (for a variety of reasons) and, in retrospect, I would have done it a little differently, but I learned so much from the attempt. I learned that I do not enjoy freelance writing; that I cannot spend eight hours a day writing, even if it is for my own pleasure; that it’s no fun being a penniless writer; and that the real work only starts once that first draft is done.

So here are my writerly resolutions for 2018:

  • Complete the free magnet story to be sent out to email subscribers
  • Complete the second (and subsequent) installment(s) of my Mythical Menagerie series
  • Redesign this website to be less generic and more personal to me
  • Publish one short story every two months
  • Blog one piece of flash fiction every month
  • Finish the first draft of (one of) my novel(s)
  • Increase my email subscriber list to at least 500 readers

The biggest hurdle to achieving these goals for me is to find time. I wrote last week about an experiment of getting up at 5 am every morning, but this has been utterly unsuccessful thus far! I’ll keep on trying though. Writing is important to me, and somehow I’ll make the time I need.

2017 has been a tough year in many ways, but I’m looking forward to 2018. Let’s make it the year in which all our dreams come true.

Do you make New Year’s resolutions? Do you keep them? What are some of your successes and failures of the past year, and what do you have planned for the year ahead?

All I Want For Christmas

The internet is abuzz this time of year with lists of gifts to buy for everyone, including the writer in your life. And sure, I wouldn’t mind another pen and notebook set, or a scarf covered in Jane Austen quotes, or a Harry Potter-themed board game, but I don’t need any of those things.

There is only one thing I need for 2018, and I’m sure many people will agree with me.

All I want for Christmas is… time.

Time Flies © Michel Curi / Flick

Yes, I know we all have the same 24 hours each day and it’s really up to me to use my available time more productively, but believe me, time is the most fleeting commodity in my life right now, what with working full-time again and being a mother to a nearly two-year old boy. By the time the little one is in bed, I’m ready to follow suit fifteen minutes later, completely exhausted. Yes, I know I could probably watch a little less TV in the evenings or write a book instead of reading a book right before bedtime, but at the end of the day I honestly don’t have any energy left.

I’m sure I’m not the only one.

If there’s one thing I learned this year, it’s that I need to make time for the things that make me happy. Time for writing, and yes, time for fun. But where do I find more time?

During NaNoWriMo last year, I got up at 4:45 every morning to write for an hour before it was time to get ready for work. This worked extremely well for me. I recently read a post from one of my favourite travel bloggers turned writer about her new 5:15 wake-up routine that’s changed her life, and I’m wondering – should I try this too?

I’ve been thinking about it the last few days. It’s summer here in the southern hemisphere, which means it won’t be as dark anymore at that time of the morning. It’s not cold either. And although I love being snuggled up in bed until at least 7:00 (if I had my way), this would be the perfect time to experiment with an early morning rise.

Think about it – an extra hour every day to do with as I please! I could write, read, do some yoga, build a jigsaw puzzle, play a MMO… the possibilities are endless!

I think the motivation is there, and the act itself should be reward enough. The only restriction is that this should entirely be me-time: no guilty thoughts about what I should be doing instead and no social media (sorry Facebook, it’s not you, it’s me).

I’m going to try it for a week and see how it goes… If it works, this will be the best from-me-to-me Christmas present ever! Will you join me?

Do you struggle to find time to do the things that make you happy? How do you manage your time? Are you an early morning riser, or do you prefer to stay up late into the night? What are your best productivity hints for those of us who need to manage our time better?

A Worthwhile Prize

© theDURRRIAN / Deviant Art

Alanna grabbed Kael’s shoulder, wrenching him backwards. “Stop!” she hissed, pointing at the spot where he was about to step. The warrior looked down, his face paling visibly as he noticed the slightly raised edge of a round disk on the elaborately carved floor.

“Trigger trap,” he confirmed. “Better keep a close eye on the floor too from now on.” He proceeded carefully, plated greaves clinking softly with each step.

“Do you think we can risk more light?” Alanna asked. Kael nodded. A nimbus of soft light surrounded her left hand, and she drew in a breath as the shadows around them retreated. They were in a great hall that stretched out as far as they could see. Alanna’s eyes widened as she tried to take it all in at once. The walls were covered in fine stucco engravings, the light casting strange intricate shapes that seemed to dance around the two explorers. Semi-precious stones glittered from the lofty ceiling, stars in a forgotten sky now buried deep beneath the ground. Tall pillars guided the way to a raised dais at the very end of their field of vision.

“The god-king’s throne room,” Kael said, breathless with wonder. He looked up at the ceiling. “Just a handful of these gems and we could retire to the Isles of Amara until the end of our days.”

“If the stories are true, then the biggest prize waits for us at the end of this hall.”

Kael grunted. “If the stories were true, we’d be dead by now. Let’s grab what we can and get out of here.”

Alanna leveled a gaze at her companion. They had worked too hard, searched too long, to give up now. No one had set foot in the lost city of Bataar-Ilan for centuries, until now. “You know why we’re here.”

“I hope you know what you’re getting us into, Alanna,” Kael said as he renewed his slow advance. “This book you’re after had better be worth it.”

“The entire city’s population died to protect it, and then the god-king buried this place under a mountain,” she reminded him. “It’s worth it.”

A faint click was all warning they had. Alanna reacted instinctively, surrounding the two of them in a protective shield of energy. The smell of burning wood tickled her nose as a volley of arrows sizzled to ash and fell at their feet.

Kael shot her a sheepish grin. “Didn’t see that one.”

Carefully, oh so slowly, they advanced towards the dais. While Kael’s gaze swept the darkness around them, searching for hidden traps and other unknown threats, Alanna’s thoughts were bent upon the prize. For years everyone had believed it a myth, but she had known it was real. It had to be real, and it had to be here.

“There it is,” she said almost reverently. Relief washed through her, she had been right all along. The legendary Book of the Dead rested upon a golden plinth next to the throne at the top of the dais. The power of immortality lay within her reach.

“Careful,” Kael warned as she ascended, but Alanna scarcely heard him. She reached out for the book.

“It’s… empty.” Alanna flicked through the blank pages, disappointment burning like bile in her throat. “All this way for nothing!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

Startled, Alanna and Kael spun around. A man stepped out of the darkness. He was dressed in a long golden robe, skin as pale as moonlight, black eyes cold as obsidian. He was so thin he seemed almost skeletal.

“It’s been a while since someone has come in search of the book. But, finally, you are here.”

Kael leveled his sword at the man. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am,” the man replied.

Alanna inhaled sharply as realization dawned. “The god-king.”

The man inclined his head slightly, a sardonic smile playing across is lips.

“It’s a trap,” Alanna said as she descended the steps to stand beside Kael. “There is no Book of the Dead.”

“Of course not. Immortality belongs to the gods, not mere mortals such as yourselves.”

“Then why…?”

“Even gods must feed.”

Kael swore loudly. He charged at the god-king, his wordless roar echoing through the cavernous hall. The man side-stepped him deftly and then effortlessly swatted the huge broadsword from his grip. He pushed Kael over as if he were a small child, then drove his foot into the warrior’s chest. Kael grunted.

Fire shot from Alanna’s hands. It hit the god-king in the back and sent him sprawling, giving Kael the chance to regain his feet. Alanna grabbed him by the hand and pulled him behind her.

“We can’t win this,” she hissed as they ran. “He’s a god.”

“What are we going to do?”

Alanna risked a glance behind her. The god-king was on his feet, smoke smoldering from his golden robe. His face was contorted with rage.

“The only thing we can.” A faint rumbling sounded and the ground shook. Pebbles fell from the ceiling.

“You’re bringing the mountain down again,” Kael said, understanding lighting up his eyes.

They dashed through the hall, heedless of traps, dodging arrows flying past. The entranceway collapsed just as they sprinted through it. A great bellow, louder even than the roar of the mountain, sounded behind them.

“Immortality might be overrated,” Kael quipped as he evaded another trap.

“Hurry!” Alanna urged, pointing at the exit. Rubble had covered almost half of their escape. They scrambled over fallen rocks and tumbled out into the blinding sunlight. They stopped a safe distance from the entrance and turned to watch the mountain envelop the ruins of Bataar-Ilan once more.

“Isles of Amara, Alanna,” Kael said as the riches of the lost city was buried again.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she replied. She grinned impishly at him. “Maybe next time.”