The Menace Returns. Friends Are Threatened. Trust Is Challenged.
A year older and cleverer, Danielle distrusts the growing sense of dread
that haunts her. She knows nothing of what hunts her friends. They know
nothing of her foreboding.
Soon they are all thrust back together in a relentless series of hunting or
being hunted by an unholy foe, a mutant possessing horrifying powers and
schemes. Or is there more than one?
All His Wrath is a fast-paced story layered with complex twists and
revelations. The adventures of Danielle and her friends take them deeper
into the fantastical gargoyle kingdom than they would have ever chosen to
Brandon King is an award-winning author living in SW Idaho, not far from epic rock formations that find their way into his stories. While his stories are straight-up fantasy he, like favorite authors J. R. R. Tolkien and C. S. Lewis, infuses his novels with allegory for perceptive readers.
He intends The Gargoyle Chronicles to be a seven book series. With Books 1 and 2 published, and Books 3-5 nearing completion, his fans have many characters—human and otherwise—to love. Or fear.
Although my fantasy stories are written mostly for teens and pre-teens, I still aim to make them as real and truthful as I would when writing for "adults." In this scene, Paign is utterly distressed and wrought with conflicting waves of emotions. Why? Because being a teen or pre-teen is often the most epic adventure of our lives. The passage of adolescence is both critical and, honestly, very hard. Here we see Paign in the "winter of his soul." Even if they don't act out in the manner that Paign does, kids can identify with this "winter of the soul." And when grown-ups are honest with themselves, so can they. #compassionmatters #kids #adolescence #fantasy #epic #adventure #itgetsbetter #faith #grit #perspectivematters #thistooshallpass #believe
All His Wrath
Arguing with Anders had been a reflex action and surprised Paign. It left him unsettled, confused and very agitated. After his bitter departure from Anders, Paign hiked for many hours, mindless of weather and totally unaware of his location. When he stopped, it was only to seize a fallen branch to shatter across the nearest tree or to hurl a rock at a nearby innocent, unsuspecting—and then very frightened—animal. Haunted, Paign muttered terrible things, hateful and vile things, at his cousin, at his friends, at his mother, even at his dead father. By the time he had utterly vented his rage, Paign’s hands were bruised and bloodied from the bark of a particularly rough, sessile oak branch twisting in his hands as he slammed it into a boulder. Dirt from the hurled rocks had wedged into the wounds caused by the coarse bark. His voice had become raw and hoarse by the time he finally sat on an outcrop not far from the high cave on Ruar’s Ridge that Freida had discovered the year before.