Genesis - Book One of the Kingdom Come Series (Wade Garret) in One Thousand Words

Genesis (Book One of the Kingdom Come Series) by Wade Garret is the latest book to feature on One Thousand Worlds. Please take a look at the first one thousand words and see what you think!


Genesis - Book One of the Kingdom Come Series-

Jak Hartlen, 19, the son of William and Mary, will face many thresholds of flesh and mind on his road to reaping the Whirl Wind; seeds of grief and guilt only now coming to fruition. If only they’d know what they were doing...
The Gan and their Areht who shape the world behind the scenes will hate him, because he's a threat they're not sure can be chained.
The Pillars and their Faithful who spread the world's leading religion will fear him, because his existence, once known, will challenge Ages of dogma and accepted history.
The Crimson King and its Servants who seek to return to power, destroying all that remains of The White, will hunt him, because even in death, they're not sure he'll ever bow to the Dark.
—They All Should. For as One of Five with the power to shake the world, they will hollow his heart and mind through countless sacrifice and vengeful selfishness.

About this author-

At 32, Wade Garret is the youngest of three children (the only boy) born in NY, but raised in the southern United States. He’s married to a wonderful woman and has a convict for a dog. When not reading, writing or occasionally drinking at the pub, he can be found researching the latest comics or in the chair of his favorite tattoo shop. Genesis is only the beginning for Mr. Garret’s epic Kingdom Come series.

~Faces in Shadow and Shadows with Faces~

Part I

Mr. Black and his travel-beaten horse cleared the bluff’s wood line.

Coven Hall’s near ruin. The decrepit castle teetering in the wind once held thousands for banquet. Black wondered what condition Wodan’s Altar was in.

The wind returned. The collar of his winter duster and matching dust black tricorn shielded him, but not from images of swords and grunting shouts from shadowy cover that swirled through his mind, into his flesh.

Mr. Black never let the past go. It’s how he survived to live other lives without the need for sword or justice. Weathered and tired, he barked a cough from his lungs. Something occurred to him then as the muddy road vanished beyond faint lanterns and lonely torches to deeper wooded mist:

It’s going to the same end…Light forsaken middle of this wretched land. It won’t end until every piece of rock and stone is torn down. Their greed will be their undoing.

Black slowed his horse as the subtle whistling between the natural rock formations ceased. It was like the forest had called back a dying breath. Wrapped in darkness, he wondered if they could’ve gained on him so quickly...

Only the dead lay behind, the path transformed into massacre, wandering down from the northern Gothann Mountains. Still, the place drove his jumping thoughts. The image of their limbs left to freeze in bloody stumps. The snow near the stream gagged with the violent mess of his enemies.

Black felt sorry, for it was only by chance he came across the shire. His mission had been something else entirely. Honestly, if not for the crimes he saw, evils known only to a few, his assassin’s path wouldn’t have changed. So when finally he fell upon them, vengeance was swift, the price exact for the atrocities done. It was only after cleaning his hands of the justice wrought he found enemies unperceived lying in wait.

Mr. Black knew then what he should’ve guessed all a long. It was his fault.

She knows! He’d been so close. She knows! He had to adapt. Information was now the mission’s lifeblood, if he was to get another chance.

Wet wind and the ill night sky eased him as he continued through the discarded history hidden by weakness and ancient politics. My, how far we’ve fallen. Iron Front of the great Gol Army…what would their fathers say? How could he judge the Scattered Lands though? He, too, knew the taste of glory and honor crippled by fear, greed and anger. He’d never admit it, but the abandoned capital mirrored him in the most intimate ways.

Black stiffened. The feeling of being watched dispersed as he crossed Ellizium’s forgotten boarder. He eyed every roof and wall position before catching the irregular shape in the wet grass at the base of the post just before the gate. Once they’re in, they’re in to stay. He secretly checked the disguised bandage on the horse’s flank. The bite-wound was deep, not healing. The medicine was failing. It would spread. Lucky for him his wounds weren’t so severe.

Beside the gate left ajar, opposite the infested door where guards often harassed locals, lived the town’s first line of defense. The watchman was fast asleep, spear cuddled in his arms. The rusted-out thermal condenser on the table wouldn’t last the winter, the old bolter at his feet equally condemned. His tattered cloak and hand-me-down shield spoke all-to-well to Black that this was the best Pehats Berg had to offer. Pity.

Coughing again, he turned seeing the sinister Hangman’s Noose. The blood-stained cordage was nailed to the heavy limb of a Snickering Ash, just inside the fence-line. Faith was all but gone in the Scarred Lands, especially Pehats Berg. The many nooses once knotted over this very ground by Light Bringer hands declared why.

I need a drink. The Two Sisters wasn’t far. The popular inn was in the center of the Berg, about a stone’s throw from Goran’s stables. The inn’s original logo, unlike the burnt-out or broken neon travesties once glorified by locals, could be seen swaying above the first floor. The white letters on the black board were peeling.

At three stories, twenty-one rooms, several with balconies, every other room on the ground furnished with a fireplace connected to the one above it, the Two Sisters was the largest lodging in town. Wide bricks and heavy Scatterwood gave it a fat, heavy base. Beard Moss and Spiraling Root ran up its backside like most other buildings. Elsewhere, the clinging vegetation often supplemented grass and animal feed; hard to be rid of and growing at such a rate, it was more a crop than a weed or strangling wall-crawler.

When Mr. Black entered, the door didn’t give, didn’t say hello, as it did everyone else; rather, it seemed included in his stealthy guise. He was all but midnight in the doorway, eyes barely noticeable under his tricorn. Men passed him, women in arm and ale in hand. Unflinching smoke slithered overhead. Despite the smell, the aroma of roasted meat and dirty vegetables somehow endured. If only a little.

Moving through the bar, Black removed his fingerless gloves, slipping a tarnished silver band from his left hand to his pocket. His draw-fingers were sore. His black, winter duster hinted he was from deeper, colder country and yet such little truth was empty compared to the unspoken trespasses surrounding him.

Mr. Black stopped as a pair of warm lips gently brushed his ear.

“Arium.”

Hearing the name closest to his heart, Mr. Black grinned.

Again the luscious voice tickled his ear: “Arium Black.”

Black replied to the host, “Good to see you too, Daphnia. Give Jezzy a kiss for me, won’t you.” It really was too bad. If the tall redhead with legs to kill for were there, he’d have rather done the kissing himself. Odds were though, she was somewhere below, grease on her chin, tinkering with devices few but her sister would ever see.

Daphnia took Black’s hand. “We must speak.”

“Later.”

“I’m afraid, old friend,” Daphnia spotted a Sleeve Stinger, “you do not have much time.”

Time? If he could’ve, he’d have severed himself from it long ago.

Where you can buy Genesis - Book One of the Kingdom Come Series:

Amazon

You can connect with Wade Garret here:

Black Bed Sheet Books

Goodreads

Blog