Welcome to my blog

Hello visitors. On my blog I'm talking about my books, but also about what I'm currently working on and, maybe, some other stuff. Browse through my posts and don't forget to check out my older posts in the archives. If you are interested in my books, please, visit my website Fictitious Tales for more information and a few excerpts. You'll find more excerpts in my old website Herbert's World. Also, take a look at my second blog Herbert Grosshans, where I talk about fun-stuff and things that concern me.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

A free story

I've sent in the edited version of Book One of the Stardogs. It should be available from Midnight Showcase possibly in September already. They want to push it to take advantage of the momentum the release of Book Two of 'Seeds of Chaos' has created.
If you are visiting from Beth Wylde you must be interested in Time travel stories. Here is another one: 'Sarah's Gift'. It is another story in my Anthology 'Tapestry of Dreams', coming next year from Midnight Showcase. If you would like to have it, just email me at hegro@shaw.ca and I will send it to you in rtf (rich text format).
My books Seeds of Chaos are currently selling well at Fiction Wise.
Book 2, Hell's Gate is at number 3 position and Book 1, Eden's Gate following close behind at number 5.
This is the link to fictionwise which lists my books available there http://www.fictionwise.com/eBooks/HerbertGrosshanseBooks.htm
or go to check out my Xandra series http://www.midnightshowcase.com/xandra-series.htm or my Seeds of Chaos series Book One http://www.midnightshowcase.com/seedsofchoaseden.htm or Book Two http://www.midnightshowcase.com/chaos2.html

Here is the beginning of 'Sarah's Gift'

Ever since the death of his wife, Thanksgiving had lost its meaning for Jake. What did he have to be thankful for? Now it was just an excuse to take some time off from a stressful job and lose himself in the little bit of wilderness that was still left.
There was talk that the turkey hunt might be suspended for a few years to give the birds a chance to recover. Hunting pressure had become too great in the last ten years.
It wasn’t like it used to be when he went hunting with his dad. He couldn’t remember when they didn’t have a turkey for Thanksgiving, but this year might just be that year.
Then again--what did it really matter if he got one or not? There was no pleasure in eating a turkey by yourself.
It was beginning to get chilly and he shivered inside his camouflage outfit. His fingers, which held his bow, were getting cold and stiff. The temperature must have dropped at least ten degrees within the last hour. He could smell the snow in the crisp air.
Looking into the sky, he saw the clouds moving in fast. Chances of me getting a bird today are getting slim, he thought, animals are smart, they know when a storm is coming and they’ll disappear searching for cover.
His daydreams were interrupted when he heard the soft cluck. Then he saw the big Gobbler strutting into the open.
Jake had done this too many times, and he reacted without thinking. He had been ready for this moment all morning, and when he released the arrow he knew it would not miss the target.
It was almost anti-climactic when he picked up the limp carcass of the big bird. A quick check of its beard and then he stuffed it into his backpack. Again, he looked up at the rolling dark clouds and realized he had to get back to his vehicle as fast as possible. It looked like a snowstorm was going to hit soon. Unusual for this time of year.
Picking up the rest of his gear, he started walking back the trail he had come. It was a good hour’s walk to his truck and another hour’s drive to get to the highway. He wanted to be out of the woods when the storm hit.
The first flakes began to fall after he had walked the trail for less than fifteen minutes. Gently at first, but after another fifteen minutes he could barely see the trail. Just to be sure he was still on the right trail, he checked his compass and put it away, satisfied he was headed in the right direction.
Listening to the howling of the wind above the treetops, he knew this was a bad one.
After walking for over an hour he had the feeling he was going in circles, but the needle of his compass assured him he was still following the right trail. When he couldn’t find his truck after two hours, he realized he was lost.
All his warm clothing was in his truck, and so was his camping gear. He wasn’t dressed for spending a night outside, not in this kind of weather. When he tried his cell-phone he got nothing.
Damn! How could he have been so careless? He didn’t panic. He’d been an outdoorsman far too long and knew that panic was your worst enemy when lost in the woods.
He didn’t remember taking another trail, but he must have, even though according to his compass he had not. There was no sense floundering through the bush, so he kept on walking.
The trail ended suddenly and it almost seemed as if the veil of whiteness was beginning to lift. He thought he saw a light ahead and headed for it. Coming closer, he saw the outlines of a building, a log cabin.
Thank God, he thought, At least I found shelter to wait out the storm.
He pounded against the heavy wooden door. When nothing happened, he pounded again. After a moment the door swung open a crack and he stared into the muzzle of a rifle. Above it the face of woman.

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