Arks of Octava
The Scribbler Guardian
by bestselling author
Fantasy Romance Series, The Trilogy BeginsJeramiah Poe isn’t just any character in the Realm of Fiction; he is Muse Master—Destiny Diviner—Mysterious Miskriat. Being of neither the Traditional Genre Provinces nor Independent, Poe enjoys an eternal lease on life, so long as his Scribbler keeps him out of publication. Poe meets Kane, a seven-year-old boy from the Independent Horror Province, where he learns ancient codes are being broken and the horror that should be an act, is real. But the evil clutching Octava is not new and Seven Arks have been sent to Earth to stop it. Only something has gone wrong and Poe is commissioned as the 8th Ark of Octava to discover what has become of the Seven. But his passage to Earth comes with revelations he's not prepared for. Not only does his Scribbler not know of his existence, he's a she that his human form seems allergic to. Poe soon realizes that with each Ark he locates, his powers grow along with his feelings for the Scribbler. And the enemy will try and use both to gain control of the two realms.
“Mr. Poe?” Poe turned abruptly at the worried sound of Kane’s voice, and panicked at seeing his body had gone translucent. “I have to go now, Mr. Poe.”“What’s wrong?” Poe reached for him and his hands passed through the boy. “Kane! Are you dying in your story?” “I have to get back Mr. Poe. They’re coming now.” “Why are you crying? You’ll come back first chance. I’ll be here. Do you know the name of your story, Kane?” “I’m scared, Mr. Poe.” The real fear in the boy’s voice alarmed him and before he could ask anything else, he was gone. A flash of panic sent Poe shooting into the air and out of the bog, aiming for Octava’s Athenaeum. He landed too quickly and went sprawling for several feet before bounding up and running up the hundred flight stairs of the realm’s library. Poe flashed his credentials as he walked in and the head Athenaeum Officer nodded. He didn’t have time to fiddle with the intricate Library’s search program and found instead the Librarian. “I need help locating a story, it’s direly important.” The woman turned ever so slowly, her curt expression matching her pristine white dress-suit—the Athenaeum’s dress code. “Genre?” “Horror,” he shot out. She raised a brow for more information and Poe shook his head. “I don’t know, search them all.” Her painful pace indicated the necessity of speed one never needed in Octava. “Do you happen to have a title?” “No.” She shook her head with raised brows at the screen. “There are thousands here. We could be here all day and evening.” But her tone indicated that was quite fine, she had nothing better to do. “Kane!” Poe forgot he could search by name in the cast. “There’s a character named Kane in it.” “Last name?” “Not sure, I don’t think so, I think it’s his first.” “I mean do you have a last name.” “No, I don’t.” Poe wanted to strangle himself for not getting something so simple all this time. “Traditional or non?” “I don’t know,” Poe gasped. The woman eyed Poe with confused concern before fluttering her fingers over the glass surface of the screen. “I find four possible matches.” “The boy is seven. Look for a seven-year-old.” “Ah. Sons of Insurrection. Has to be that one. It’s Independent and an SG. Paranormal Horror.” “Coordinates,” Poe begged, trying not to yell. He ran out the second she gave the information and took to the air upon exiting the building, barely missing several security officials in winged flight. Within five minutes, he landed at the story set. A dingy, rundown hospital with a dilapidation befitting the best of any horror story. The energy in the air sent a sensation through Poe that drew tiny bumps to the surface of his skin and a tingling along his spine. Octava’s laws forbid anybody to barge right into a Story and so Poe had to carefully study the set around him. Spotting a lower window at the very bottom of the building, he hurried to it, remembering Kane’s comment about his playhouse under the stairs. Lowering to the ground he peered through the darkness. Nothing. Poe listened, closing his eyes, fighting to connect with the energy inside the insidious place.
Lucian's BioWelcome to my world My name is Lucian Bane and I’ve heard from many that I’m the odd one out. But really, I’m just a Husband, an Author, and a Christian Dom. Ah, maybe that’s the one that makes everybody pause. Oxymoron? Not at all. As an author, I like to write stories—paranormal erotica—contemporary erotica and fantasy romance about men who honor, cherish, and protect the women they love. But more importantly, I also attempt to make these stories a reality for couples everywhere by teaching them in the form of fiction how to add heat and passion to marriages and relationships that might not have it. Teach them how to build life-long commitments that form strong families, like I have with my own beautiful wife. I think there are many men like myself, and I hope my writing will be a map for them. A map for women as well, to teach them how to bring out the Dom that exists within the men they call boyfriend or husband. As young men, our inner Doms need a master to train them. I once bowed to my inner Dom's reckless and tireless desires, but when I gave myself to God and conformed my will to His, the transformation made me into what I am today. What many would call an Ineffable Dom. But its equal term in the Vanilla world, in my opinion, is simply a real man.
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