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Thunder Rider's Burden

by Christopher Madonia

272 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-0055; ISBN 1-55395-692-3; US$24.00, C$27.27, EUR19.50, £14.00

A people in need of a hero. A man in need of an identity. Culminating in one hell of a ride!

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about the book      about the author      excerpt      catalogue info

About the Book Daviot, a world of magic faces impending destruction by an ancient curse. Magic has proved to be their ultimate undoing. Prophecy states that none of their own, would be able to stop "The Cracking". The hero of prophecy was awaited. A stranger arrives atop an iron horse, from a blinding light. A stranger to all but the woman Liesh. Her dreams have been haunted by this stranger's face for years. He is the man to take up the sacred "Sword of Braelor" and save the Davioti from their shortsightedness. He is The Thunder Rider. His past is fog of disjointed memories and illusive images. The only thing real to him is his love for the woman Liesh, for her, he agrees to take up "Braelor's Sword" and make things right. A magical stone must be found and restored, to stop their impending doom. The "Stone of Intent", instrumental in causing their plight, the stone was long ago broken in two and hidden away. Upon the motorcycle that bears his name, they set out on a quest to retrieve the stone pieces, restore it to its original state and call upon its power in an effort to avert catastrophe. Their road is long and difficult. Evil forces behind the scenes, seek to thwart their efforts, forces mortal and immortal. The would-be-hero is forced to come to terms with his value system and inborn sense of right and wrong as he counters each and every obstacle that they encounter. He must choose between what he has in the here and now or what he left behind. Choices that will ultimately decide the fate of a world. For additional information or to contact the Author click here

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About the Author Growing up reading Tolkien, Brooks and King, Chris Madonia learned the love of story telling. This is his first published work, reflecting his love of heros, motorcycles, magic, and monsters. Chris lives in middle America with his wife Sheila, his children Melanie and Anthony, and granddaughter Makayla. While writing is his passion, he is "paying the bills" by operating a home repair and inspection company.

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Excerpt

Their captors were best described as trolls. You know that old child's story about the one under the bridge? No? Well these two trolls, as we'll refer to them were probably seven-foot tall, covered in coarse hair and wearing nothing but smiles on great toothy faces. A fire was being tended and it appeared that I would be interrupting their lunch plans. I wondered what to do first; how to attack the situation and then the child turned it's head and our eyes met. It was pretty much out of my hands then, as the spirit of Braelor or made itself manifest once again. It was ike looking through the eyes of another. I heard myself let out something of a war cry and began to run headlong into the fray.      The sword aglow and my own fury flowing freely through my veins. The largest of the two trolls raised a huge club and charged to meet me. It's huge arm swung the club straight for my head, I felt the wind of it as it passed. My sword however did not miss. The troll howled in pain as it cradled its own innards close to its now wide-open belly. My second foe made a beeline for the captives, perhaps in an effort to present me with a hostage scenario. I launched myself at the beast hitting it behind the knees and sending the two of us sprawling. Hitting the troll was like hitting a stone wall. The impact drove the wind from my lungs and the sword from my hand. It spun off close to the woman and child. My adversary was less impacted by the fall and commenced to knocking me around with his own club.      His first swing caught me in the midsection and that didn't help me to catch my breath one bit. His second, to my right shoulder, sent me reeling in the direction of the fire. I gathered what senses I could, grabbed a burning branch from the flames and swung in the direction of my attacker.      The flames caught him on his side and he began to scream. His coarse hair ablaze, he beat at the flames in an effort to extinguish himself. I took that opportunity to reclaim my sword and put the beast out of it's misery with a swift, beheading, stroke. The troll continued for several seconds to beat at the flames even as his severed head lay upon the ground. It finally slumped to the ground accepting its fate. I dropped to my knees, Braelor had obviously finished expressing himself through me and I was left to bear the pains of the injuries sustained in the brief, but fierce battle. Coming down from one of these possessions as I call them, is like getting off a roller coaster that scared the crap out of you, but you just have to ride again. It takes a minute to gather yourself, but the memory of the experience makes you crave more.

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Catalogue Information

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