I discovered this blog (and subscribed to it) following a tweet by Victoria Strauss. Some of the names were familiar enough to make me wonder how widespread scams and general misbehavior is on the part of small press publishers. Phoenix Fire is charging their authors to publish their works in a back end vanity manner.
Money should flow to the writer, not from them. It's an old industry proverb.
The authors could self-publish for far less than they are being charged here. If you do an ebook, it is very easy to master the forms in which you upload them to the distributor. The Smashwords format works fine for kindle also. Making it double easy to just do a single format and publish to both. The only change you need to make between them is that Smashwords wants the copyright page to feature the words "Smashwords Edition" so you just take it out of the version you send to kindle.
Publishers gamble on their authors earning back the costs of cover and editing. They do not make the authors pay for them. And they should never promise more than they can afford to give their authors (blog tours, promotional objects, etc.) or can reasonably handle.
Another aspect of this that is mentioned in the Suess's blog post is that the "blog tours" turned out to be just three blogs operated by the same individual under different names. I had a personal experience of this several years ago. I hired a publicist for my company, Daverana Enterprises, and discovered that this was the only thing she did. I was appalled at the subterfuge and felt that it was both dishonest and cheating. Since then, I have witnessed a fair number of "PR" firms holding to this practice.
Back when I was doing PR in the bad old days before the internet, I bought a $500 book each year that had the contact information for every newspaper, local TV and radio across the country, as well as the MAJOR places and shows, including Oprah and Regis Philbin. You sent out press releases and made phone calls. When you landed an interview for your clients, it was real and not fake.
The internet has allowed for a huge percentage of fakery and all of us should take offers and brags with a grain of salt. Always google a company or individual before trusting them. And while you are at it, confirm that any testimonials are real. It has become a commonplace for some places to use alts to promote themselves. Others like the Albee Agency are attributing testimonials to real people who have no idea they even exist.
The sound of the hammer as it struck the steel blade on the anvil woke Tagalong Tirconnel from a deep slumber. Work had already started in her husband's forge. She had overslept again. It seemed like she was tired all the time.
She blinked bleary-eyed at the sunlight pouring through the window and slapped it. The child growing in her belly took that moment to start kicking. She clutched her belly and glowered. "Yeah, yeah, you want out about as fast as I want you out."
The dwarf slid her feet over the side of the low bed and tilted herself forward cautiously. Children were one of the greatest perils of marriage. Tagalong had known that she would find herself in this condition eventually when she married her childhood sweetheart Hannigan O'Flanagan Tirconnel three years ago. Grumbling under her breath, Tagalong grabbed a broom and headed into the front room of her home.
Stepping into the house after hours of supervising his apprentices, Hanni ducked as the broom came swinging at his head. "Hey, pay attention. I dinna do it on me own."
Tagalong Tirconnel rolled another step closer to her husband and swung again. Four years ago it would have been a mace or an axe in her hands. "You stuck it in. You just had to keep sticking it in."
"It ain't me fault the eelskins broke. Just bad timing, Tag."
"Bad timing, my ass. You did it on purpose. It didn't break. You put a hole in it."
Hanni licked his lips. "Darlin' Tag, Taun is coming by this morning for your regular check. Don't ya want to get–?"
Tag swung the broom and Hanni fled through the door. They had been going through this as a morning ritual ever since the healer Taun informed Tag that she was pregnant. She got up in the mornings sickish and irritable. Hanni spent many hours just dodging missiles until she began to feel a bit better up in the day and mellowed for a time. Tagalong was nearly as round as she was tall. She crossed her arms, resting them atop her hugely swollen belly, and glowered at the doorway.
Hanni peeked around the door at her. "Nothing says you're loved like a big belly, Tag."
"Cockwhore!"
"Only with you." Hanni headed for the smithy where Tag rarely went since she had begun to get noticeably swollen.
As a stonemage, Hanni's weapon-smithing provided a substantial income from myn who wanted, and could pay the heavy prices for, charmed weapons. While he was no Eldarion Havenrain, Hanni did good, practical work. As a result of that, Tagalong could afford to put her riches from the hoard of the arkenwyrm into other things, such as being the largest patron to the Azure Circle Mage School.
Tagalong settled on the sofa and a servant pushed a footstool under her feet. She had hired some of the older children from the Dynannan Temple Orphanage to work for her. The girl placed a small table at Tag's elbow, and another one set out tea and cookies.
A soft knock at the door preceded Taun entering the house. He carried his satchels with the straps crisscrossing his chest. "How are you feeling today, Tag?"
He set out his equipment on the low table to the left side of her.
"How the hell you do you think I'm feeling?" Tagalong grumped with her arms folded. "Like a damned beached whale, that's what I'm feeling like."
A tiny smile flitted across Taun's features. "Eelskins are the most popular form of birth control, but they aren't the most effective."
"You talked to Hanni."
The umber rose deepened in Taun's face. "Yes. But he's right, Tag."
Tagalong gave him a petulant look. "If you say so."
Taun sat next to her, grasped her wrist, and closed his eyes to Read her. "You are close enough that I could induce labor, if you wish. I know you want it over with."
"I'd like that." Tagalong's eyes gleamed at the thought.
"Then you have two choices, I can stay here until you deliver. Or you can come and stay at my home for the delivery."
"What about the boys?"
"I'll have Florry watch them if you would rather we did it here."
"Do that. Hanni's going to hear every bit of what I go through." Tagalong rubbed her hands together gleefully. "Every bit of it."
"Then we'll do it tomorrow. I always like to give Florry a day's warning."
A toddler darted past Amberlyn with a lurching unsteady gait, paused to recover his balance and then ran again. She spun about to grab him before he could get into anything. "Josaerin!"
The bell hanging from the doorknob rang as a customer entered.
Josaerin made a beeline for the door before it could close.
"Don't let him get out!" Amberlyn shouted at the customer and lunged after her son.
The customer swept Josaerin into his arms and the toddler giggled as the mon poked the tip of his nose playfully with the end of his pipe stem.
Amberlyn took him from the mon's arms. "You're new, aren't you?"
"Ieuan Cardew." He extended his hand to her in greeting. "Got in a few weeks ago, but my employer has kept me too busy to explore until today." Ieuan waved a slender finger at Josaerin's nose, making baby noises at him for a moment, before noting the difference between the child's fair skin and brownish blond hair, and that of his dark, coppery-skinned, black-haired mother. "He's yours?"
"Yes." Amberlyn turned a skeptical eye on Ieuan.
"Must look like his daddy then. Mind if I have a talk with the mister? My employer has a long list of things we need."
"My husband is away."
"Well when he comes back then?" Ieuan chuckled when Josaerin grabbed his waving finger and stuck it in his mouth.
"Nasty! Josaerin, that's nasty." Amberlyn snatched the Ieuan's finger from her son's mouth.
"Your husband will be back when? I really wish to speak with him."
"He's in Red Wolf. There's a war up there." Amberlyn shifted the toddler on her hip.
Lildh, Amberlyn's senior assistant, stepped through the door of the hallway leading to the back rooms and brushed a strand of nutmeg hair back. "Oh, there he is!"
"Just put him in the playpen, Lily."
Amberlyn's assistant lifted the boy from her, carried Josaerin behind the counter and plunked him into a playpen that had a cloth lid over the top with braids of spellcord across it.
"Cute little tyke." Ieuan waved at Josaerin and the toddler waved back giggling. "Now, what was I saying when I was so pleasantly distracted? Oh, yes. Bulk buys that I wanted to discuss with your husband."
"Your employer will have to do business with me, if he's looking for bulk purchases. I assume you're talking dark arcanes? I'm the only one who sells them."
"Then we're dealing with you." Ieuan gave her his most charming smile and watched her thaw toward him.
"You're a mage?"
"Dabbler. Bio-alchemist by trade."
"Gormandi?"
"Spot on."
"There are a lot of Gormondi here these days."
Ieuan tucked his pipe in the pocket. "That's to be expected. What with the arrival of Prince Richard Gryphonheart imminent."
"True." Amberlyn doubted that she would ever be comfortable with the custom of child betrothals and the youthful consummation between them, which the nobility demanded at the onset of puberty. That situation seemed to be worsening since the destruction of the Hilloran League two years ago. The Minnorian Empress had extinguished several royal families when she conquered that region.
Ieuan sighed. "That's what has brought us all here. The alliance means trading relations, establishing routes, and other matters."
He unshouldered his satchels. "In addition to buying bulk items that cannot be found in Gormondi, we wish to demonstrate our own wares. Allow me to show you some samples."
If you like what I am writing, please consider buying my other novels to find out about the events that are going on simultaneously with those in this book.
While I did put up a donation button, I would much prefer that you purchased my novels. Serpent's Quest is only a dollar download at Amazon and Smashwords.
Ieuan Cardew arrived at 57 Argent Lane – the address that Wesley had given him in the cloth district – and was pleasantly surprised to find what appeared to be a converted inn attached to a modest warehouse. As fronts went, it was very convincing. It became even more convincing when he went inside and discovered that it was a real business. A clerk at the elegant front desk, rose and extended his hand to Ieuan. "Master Cardew, I assume?"
"The same." Ieuan favored him with a roguish smile and clasped his hand. "Can I assume that my office is ready? And my samples in order?"
"Oh, absolutely, Master Cardew. And Master Douglas will be along as soon as I inform him of your arrival. He's most eager to finally meet you."
"I'm certain he is."
"Come this way and I will show you to your office."
"And your name?"
"Quaymark, sir. Anything you need – anything at all – I will be more than happy to acquire or arrange for you."
The clerk led Ieuan down a long corridor to the far rear of the building. Ieuan grew edgy at seeing they had put him in the office farthest from the rest of their people. It would either reduce his importance in the eyes of his customers or make them suspicious of him. His pride itched. Ieuan's more legitimate family members had frequently treated him as an object of shame, despite everything his father had done to persuade them to accept Ieuan. It only became worse when his half-brother became Lord Cardew on the death of their father.
Ieuan's training could not completely suppress his irritation. "Is there a reason for putting me back here?" Like some unwelcome mongrel…
"Oh, yes, sir." Quaymark nodded, smiling as if he found the idea quite brilliant. "We were told that you would want access to the private stairway and the garden entrance. We don't wish for our competitors to gain access to goods as expensive and rare as what you deal in before you have had ample opportunity to secure our various trading deals."
Ieuan gave him a long, considering glance as they stopped at the last door and Quaymark opened it for him. He stepped inside and a wide grin lit his face. The large office had deep, expensive carpeting in shades of lush green. Chairs and a matched pair of brocade sofas framed a low table. A huge hard rock maple desk dominated the rear with ornate, overstuffed chairs before it. A liquor cabinet and a wine rack took up the corner left of the desk with a private bar in front of it. Shelves lined two walls, filled with various products in green glass jars, bottles, and small piles of burlap bags, all meticulously labeled. In a corner behind the desk waited dozens of crates with Ieuan's name stenciled on them.
He strolled over to the bar and nosed in the cabinet before checking out the bottles. It was all well-stocked with the finest that could be had. Ieuan took a bottle of Faewinian Blue Rose from the wine rack, fished a corkscrew out of the cabinet drawer, and a delicate wine glass from a shelf.
"Make yourself comfortable, Master Cardew, while I fetch Master Douglas."
"I intend to." Ieuan opened the bottle, inhaled the exquisite bouquet and then filled his glass.
As soon as he was alone, Ieuan went to the crates. He took a long swallow of wine, set the glass on his desk, and used his belt knife to pry the lid off a crate. Nestled in cotton were bottles of Fire Blossom Absinthe, a highly addictive liquor from the east coast, hideously expensive to import. There were two kinds in the crate, some with a red label and others with a green one. It was absinthe blended with fermented Pollendine and just enough spices and fruit extracts to flavor it in an interesting fashion. The connoisseurs of the Larquentali City State knew not to drink much of it at a time, and they always sipped it very slowly. They respected its dangers while savoring its taste and effects.
Green Label Fire Blossom was strong stuff, but relatively milquetoast compared to Red Label. He would introduce his targets to the lighter stuff first. Once he was ready to close the deals, he would bring out the Red Label.
"Close the deal. Rolls off the tongue nicely, don't you think, Master Cardew," he said to himself, dragged his finger across his throat and chuckled. "Of course, Lord Cardew will sound even better when opportunity presents."
Wesley's network could actually move supplies and fill orders from a variety of places. It was the kind of set up that only a vampire could achieve because of their longevity – immortality until someone puts a stake through their hearts or tears their heads off.
He moved to the desk, settled into the well-padded leather chair, and began opening all the drawers to investigate the contents. The largest drawer on the bottom right had four sturdy leather satchels and a matching knapsack in it, all very expensive and well-tooled. He pulled out two of them and tossed them atop the desk. Then Ieuan perused the shelves with his wine in hand, picking out his samples with care and carrying them to the desk, which he soon had filled with what he believed would sell best, including several sampler-sized bottles of Fire Blossom. Then he sat down and packed his satchels.
"This is going to be a very productive day." Ieuan patted the satchels, looped their broad straps over his head and settled them at his sides. He stood, drained the last of his wine and worked the cork back into the bottle.
"Master Cardew?"
Ieuan turned at the new voice and faced a rotund mon of business in a blue linen tunic over trousers, his neck, wrists and fingers awash in expensive jewelry. "Master Douglas! What a delight to meet you at last. My employers in Gormondi have had nothing but praise for your efforts here."
Douglas beamed. "I work hard at it. Very hard. Whatever the company requires. You'll tell them that at the main office, won't you?"
"Of course, I will."
"Let me show you around and introduce you to people. You'll want to know where to go for things. Who to talk to. You've no idea how excited everyone was to hear that you were coming."
"Really?" Ieuan schooled a pleasantness into his voice, forcing a smile to match Douglas' own. A trace of misgiving danced along the edges of Ieuan's mood. If the story had become too complex, it would be very easy for him to slip up somewhere. He intended to ask Wesley for more details.
Douglas bustled down the hallway with Ieuan in tow. "Oh yes, indeed. We're all very excited about the new markets that this venture will open up for us. Since the destruction of Charas three years ago, there has been only two places on the west coast for the mages to gather: Ildyrsetts, which has become far too stodgy for the young folk, and our own Azure Circle Mage School. As a result, we're awash with young mages of every stripe. It's a growing market, ripe for exploitation. It's veritably screaming for goods and services."
"And that's why the main office sent me."
"Precisely."
Although Douglas moved with great alacrity, by the time they reached the end of the hallway, he was breathing hard and his face had gone red.
"You don't look well."
Douglas stopped in his tracks and drew himself as erect as possible, which only made his girth that much more noticeable. "I'm quite healthy, really. It's just that I don't walk much. I spend so much time at my desk…"
"Where you do wonderful work." Ieuan patted his shoulder. "Before we get this tour underway, let me make a suggestion?"
"Oh, but of course. Suggest away, Master Cardew."
"You're much too important for a mere tour. How about I take you and the missus to dinner tomorrow night after I've had time to get settled into my apartment and visit all of my contacts in Rowan City?"
"Oh, but…"
Ieuan wagged a finger at him in gentle approbation. "You've much more important matters to care for than exhausting yourself over a mere tour. One of your aides should be perfectly capable of providing that. No, I think that dinner is in order. Is there a place you fancy?"
"Hinkty Molly's. It has a singer there with a voice from heaven. And the food is without peer. All the youngsters from the school and the faculty go there to dine. Even the king has been seen to sup there."
"That sounds perfect. So are we agreed to dinner at Hinkty Molly's at say, oh, eighteen bells?"
"It will be a pleasure."
"Of course it will." Ieuan administered another friendly pat to Douglas' shoulder. "Now, I mustn't dally. I've people to see and places to visit. Tomorrow night we can discuss the company's new venture to our hearts' content."
Ieuan gave him a nod and strode off through the building. Once outside, he headed for Dock Street. He knew where he was going without having to ask directions. Ieuan had spent hours pouring over maps of Rowan City while waiting for Corradeo and Eginhardt to arrive.
As Ieuan walked, he took in the decorations going up to welcome Prince Richard Gryphonheart. King William Gryphonheart, desperate for an alliance and military aid against the Minnorian Empress, had promised his nine-year-old son to King Aejystrys as husband to her five-year-old daughter, Elynnis. In return, Aejystrys had marshaled her forces – the largest standing army in the region – and marched to his aid. The child was to be handed over upon Aejystrys' arrival in Merkreth's Crossing, and then Jumped to Rowan City by a translocationist mage in the Sacred King's employ.
It would be rather amusing if the boy died. It would serve King William right for being such a pain in the ass. William and his inner circle had snubbed Ieuan after his father died. Suddenly bereft of his father's patronage, Ieuan, the bastard son of a Gormondi noble, had found himself unwelcome at court and at home. His legitimate and now ruling half-brother had made it clear that he had no use for him.
Ieuan resisted the impulse to try and worm his way into the palace. Much as he would like to see the little prince dead, the palace was not part of his job: that assignment belonged to Vakadis. The school and the lifemages were Ieuan's targets. Corradeo had a simple strategy: get in and get out and never let the enemy know they had been there. Someone else either did most of the work for them or caught the blame without having done anything at all. The back of his throat itched, alerting Ieuan to the one appetite that he was still getting accustomed to: a craving for fresh blood, preferably straight from pulsing veins.
His initial destination was the Azure Circle Mage School, anticipating that meeting Headmaster Miccan Heyers would require an appointment. The school lay in the northwest, upon a series of terraced shelves carved into initial rises at the foot of the South Talon. Rowan City had plenty of room to grow compared to the crowded cities and towns of Ieuan's homeland. The houses, many of them built of logs, were fine dwellings with expansive yards. The closer that Ieuan came to the school, the more often he saw wide, cobble stone drives and carriage houses to the side of the main houses.
This was not the place to sate his arcane appetites, although the well-dressed females made his throat itch. New to the changes in his body since becoming sa'necari, it seemed that Ieuan was constantly hungry for another taste of blood. Corradeo had assured him that it would ease in time. The arcane components of blood could not be found in simple meat and drink – which Ieuan also consumed – and his cravings frequently drove him to distraction. Wesley had informed him that there were poor districts, inhabited mostly by refugees from the Minnorian War, where he could sate himself. He intended to tour them once he had made his initial contacts.
An ornate wrought iron gate stood open at the entrance to the school and people were flowing through it in large numbers. The air crackled with energy to his necromantic senses. Ieuan could taste anger, outrage, and a heady mix of fear in their auras as they crowded past him.
Fear.
It tickled his senses. He paused to inhale it, savoring the flavors and the way it spread pleasure through him. His loins tightened, his throat itched more intensely, and his fangs were threatening to descend. Ieuan took a pocket flask from his shirt and swigged blood wine from it. The blood eased him and he recovered his self-control. It reminded him that he had not had his fangs in a vein since dawn.
Returned the spelled flask to his pocket, Ieuan noticed the way that the guards at the gates were watching him. He sauntered over.
"Pardon me, I'm Ieuan Cardew. I was told to speak with Elizar Meggs about getting an appointment with Master Miccan Heyers. If you could direct me, I would appreciate it."
They pointed him at the far side of the school commons where a stately stone building dominated the lower terrace. Beyond that Ieuan caught a glimpse of the student dormitories. He had not required the directions he asked for, but was loath to betray the slightest knowledge of the grounds. Again, Wesley's maps and diagrams were firmly at the front of his mind – until he passed the first cluster of trees and emerged into the open grounds. In the very middle of it wood had been piled up for an enormous bonfire. In the center of that stood a gigantic wickerman shaped by craft and magic into the likeness of a mon whom Ieuan recognized from sketches Wesley had provided him with: Headmaster Miccan Heyers. The students were going to burn him in effigy. Myn circled the effigy with their hands linked, and it took only a sweep of his eye to determine they were all women. Male students dotted the grounds in little clusters, watching the women with expressions ranging from nervous to supportive.
A student lit the pyre with a gesture.
Then the chants began. At first, it was just the women, and then some of the male students joined in.
MICCAN IS A DICKSTAIN.
MICCAN OUT!
NO MORE BUGGERING BASTARDS.
MICCAN STINKS.
An incredulous grin quirked the left side of Ieuan's mouth. He shook his head, laughing. Apparently the headmaster had student troubles. Opportunity glimmered before him. He watched a little longer, and then made his way through the clamoring throng.
