Welcome, friend! Today I bring you a collaborative post with Christopher C. Hall, author of Earthking, first book of the Earthking Chronicles. Let’s welcome him and read an excerpt from the book.

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Get to know the author: Christopher C. Hall

Welcome Chris! Tell me and my readers a bit about yourself!

I live in Lancaster, PA with my wife, Sara, and our two kids Peter (3) and Charlotte (1). I’m closing in on 40 this September, but am oddly excited for a new decade. I love to travel but haven’t gotten out much the last few years. London is my favorite city. I’ve been there twice and would visit England every year if I could!  

I listen to a lot of audiobooks and shuffle between thriller/suspense novels and fantasy. Both genres seem to feed something deep down. I’d love to write a thriller someday and even have some outlines done along with a few chapters but my fantasy series gets the bulk of my attention these days.  

What inspired you to write this book?

Way back in the early aughts I was living a dozen hours from my home and my family, including my two younger brothers. I wanted a way to impart some brotherly advice to them since I couldn’t be there in person. Earthking began to take shape as I considered the kind of story I wanted to tell them. I thought of the books I liked to read when I was a kid and tried to give my brothers that kind of adventure. 

How long did it take you to write this book, from the first idea to the last edit?

Ten years. By the time it was finished my brothers were already grown and I’d moved back home years earlier. In ‘09 I had a finished draft and went to a writer’s conference where I was given some solid advice but wasn’t at a point where I was ready to receive any kind of constructive criticism. The MS sat for a couple of years before I picked it up again. I loved the story, the characters, and the world I’d poured so much time into. I knew that if I was ever going to do anything more with it I would need to a) try again (and again and again) and b) work on developing a thicker skin. Rejection and criticism are just part of the deal. I spent a full year rewriting the entire book from top to bottom, using my original MS as a guide. After several more edits and lots of feedback I found a great editor and an amazing cover artist and published Earthking in 2015.

What makes your story unique?

The stakes are high for Col, my MC, but there is still a sense of whimsy in his adventure, and an innocence that I fought to preserve despite his world crashing down around him. There are short stories weaved throughout the book that act as fairy tales nudging Col in the right direction.

Who would enjoy reading your book? 

Earthking was originally written for children but I’ve found that it really is for anyone who enjoys a good adventure with a little humor along the way. 

What’s something you hope readers would take away from it?

My aim with this book was always to impart a sense of safety in an ever-changing, and often chaotic, world. Reading should be an escape and I wanted to provide that in whatever way I could.

Do you have a favourite quote or scene in the book that you find yourself going back to?

There’s a scene where Col and his traveling companion are taken in by an old woman. She feeds them, gives them her bed, and tells them a story about a blind painter. It’s at a point where fear has consumed Col and he’s finally given a bit of respite from the relentless tide of tragedy. I think it was one of those scenes I wrote as much for me as for the character.

What is something you have learned on your author journey so far?

You just have to keep going. No matter how long it is taking, if you believe in what you’re doing, keep going.

Earthking is the first book of The Earthking Chronicles. Can you share more about the series and how many books you may have planned? 

There are four books planned for the series. The second book, The Greenkind War, is done and will be released sometime in 2023. I’m doing a sort of social media relaunch for the first book in preparation for Book 2’s release. 

What’s the best piece of advice you have received related to writing?

Write what excites you. If it bores you, it will bore your reader. If it lights a fire in you, your reader will feel that warmth.

If you could give a shout out to someone(s) who has helped in your writer journey, please feel free to mention them below!

My wife, Sara. I could not have done this without her encouragement. She never let quitting be an option and I will forever be grateful for that. 

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Book Excerpt from
Earthking

Col twisted a loose root from the ground. He clutched it, ready to spring from his shelter. He listened for a sound, any sound, out of the ordinary. His breath hung like a ghost in the air. 

The creak and croak of an oncoming wagon chased the ghost away. His concern vanished with it. Two voices grew louder as the wagon neared. 

“Why do you always bring that up?” the first said.

“Because every time I invite you, you never come,” the second replied.

“My cousin’s wedding was that week. Was I supposed to miss that?”

Col stuck his head between bowing branches. He watched the wagon through the needles. It was drawn by two dusty mules while two equally dusty men sat side by side on the bench.

“You still could have come, Uzir. You know my little girl loves to see you. Though, I don’t know why. I see you every day and I can barely stand you.”

Col pushed the branches aside and stepped onto the road. The root was still in his hand. 

The driver tugged on the reins and the wagon stopped suddenly. “We’ve got nothing of value here, young man. You may as well let us pass.”

Caménor rushed out behind Col and tore the root from his hand. The men’s faces were washed in fear as much as dirt.

“Peace, my friends. We’re not here to cause trouble,” Caménor said. He tossed the root into the river. 

“You could’ve fooled us. Jumping out of the shadows like that! You and I seem to hold different meanings of the word ‘peace’.”

“My apologies. I’m Cameron. This is my son, Colby. He was told to hide until I knew it was safe.” He cast an accusing eye at Col.

“He doesn’t look like one for orders.”

“He’s not,” Caménor said.

“I heard them talking,” Col said. “If they’re dangerous then so are the mice that scamper between the trees or the snow that falls from the sky.”

“Did he just insult us?” said one of the men.

“I’m not sure. He might’ve meant we’re as cute as mice and as lovely as snow,” said the other.

“That’s not what I meant,” Col said.

“It’s too late. That’s how I take it to mean so that’s what it is. Thank you very much.”

“Where are you gentlemen headed?” Caménor asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern,” the first said.

“For all we know you and the funny boy are only making nice so you can rob us of our immense fortune,” the second continued.

“You said you had nothing of value!” Col said.

“Friends, I assure you we’re not here to harm you,” Caménor said.

“So we’re friends all of a sudden? And here I thought you were just two strangers leaping from the trees to frighten us,” the first said. 

“You don’t even know our names,” continued the second. “It seems to me that if we were such good friends you would know our names as well as our destination.”

“Even friends of a lifetime have to learn such things at some point,” Caménor said.

The two travelers looked at each other in silent conversation before giving their reply. “Well said! I don’t think you are the brigand we feared so let us begin such a friendship. I am Uliz and this is my business partner, Uzir. This road takes us, and all who travel it, to the modest streets of Mondiso.”

“Mondiso?” Caménor said.

“Mondiso.”

“That is fantastic news!”

“Why is that?” Uzir asked.

“Because, Uzir, it is a wonderful thing to be lost only to find that you’re on the right path after all. Our destination lies just beyond Mondiso.”

  Col was tired of standing in the cold. Someone needed to hurry this along. “How about a ride for your new friends?”

“I don’t see why not,” Uliz said. “What do you think, Uzir?”

“I guess we could accommodate them. Heaven knows I’ve already heard everything you have to say. A couple of fresh faces would be welcome.”

Col and Caménor climbed into the back of the wagon. It was filled with soot caked brooms and tools that looked like porcupines on sticks. Col cleared a corner for himself and sat down. 

“It’s a harsh life, traveling through the winter,” Uliz commented. “Take your ease now. There’s plenty of work to be done tomorrow, my friends.”

“Tomorrow?” Col asked.

“Well, not tomorrow tomorrow. I mean tomorrow in the proverbial sense. The future.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, Colby. We’ve got a few days before we reach Mondiso. Until then, remember peace.”

“What makes you think we’ve forgotten it?” Caménor asked.

“We all forget it somewhere along the way,” Uzir said

Col leaned against the wagon’s rail. The tension in his bones eased. There were no orders being barked at him or waves threatening to topple him. Neither was there any immediate cause for frantic fleeing. There was only the gentle creak of wheels turning slowly beneath them and the jovial bickering of his new companions. 

He closed his eyes and tried to remember peace and the spirit of the life he’d once known. His mind hung in the gray between asleep and awake where visions spring from dreams and dreams heighten reality. When he woke his dreams vanished but a sense of them remained, like an unseen fly whose buzz is still heard. 

The voices around him that had been so distant while he slept were now beside him. He opened his eyes to find the sun blooming gold in a clear sky.

“What is our friends’ destination, then?” Uzir said.

“Home,” Caménor said.

“Wonderful! How long has it been since you were home?”

“So long I can hardly remember what it looks like.”

“That’s a feeling we know very well. Life on the road can be hard but adventure is a call worth heeding. Still, home should never be forgotten,” Uliz said.

“What adventure calls you to the road?” Caménor asked.

“We are skilled sweeps. The best you’ll ever find,” Uliz said.

“What’s a sweep?” Col asked.

“A chimney sweep, lad. We clean the soot from your chimneys keeping them from catching fire and in turn saving the lives of men, women and children all across the kingdom. We are the unsung heroes of the Arnoc.”

“And he’ll never let you forget it!” Uzir said. 

Col had never known such easy going men. It seemed their cares were tossed in a sack and thrown into the back of the wagon along with their tools, left there until they were needed. 

Col listened as Uliz and Uzir shared stories of their journeys.

“People have a strange habit of hiding things in their chimney only to forget about them. Then they have the poor sense of saying we’re trying to steal them,” Uliz said.

“What sort of things have you found?” Col asked.

“All kinds. Family valuables, old clothing, money, letters, paintings. Uzir once found a man’s hand.”

“The woman said it was her husband’s,” Uzir said. “She’d put it there as a warning to any spirits that would try to harm her or hers. It was a big hand.”

“How long had her husband been dead?” Caménor asked.

“That’s just it. He was standing right there, paying us for our service!” 

Col laughed so hard he nearly rolled off the wagon. He was drunk with mirth and his new friends joined in his revelry. It was a refreshing day. He was filled and spent at once and though he’d done no work he was exhausted all the same. They set up camp along the side of the road. Uliz and Uzir spread a low canopy over the back of the wagon to sleep among their tools. Col and Caménor laid their beds in a small cove beneath boulder and branch. They lit the fire early and shared it until their companions retired to the wagon. Col slipped easily to sleep. Peace covered him like a fresh blanket.

The days that followed held more of the same and so much more. Col shared meals and cheer with his newfound friends. 

Friends. It was the first time Col had ever called anyone by that name. He’d always had his brothers and a cavalcade of servants but that wasn’t the same. The sweeps treated Col as a peer and Col treated them the same. When the mules reached the streets of Mondiso Col felt a pang of sadness tighten his chest. 

“Do we have time for a last meal?” Caménor said.

“I think between friends there can never be a last meal,” Uliz said.

“What do you say, Col? Do you think you can stand us for another evening?” Uzir said.

“It’s been rough but I guess I could survive one more meal,” Col said with a wink.

“Then it’s settled,” Uliz said. “I know just the place.” The icy streets gleamed beneath lights from the windows of butchers, bakers and blacksmiths. The wagon turned down a narrow alley where the eaves of the buildings on either side nearly touched above them. Uliz gave a tug on the reins and they stopped in front of a plain wooden door. A pole over the door reached across the alley but no sign hung from it.

“You three go in. I’ll take care of the mules,” Uliz said.

“Are you sure anyone’s here? It looks deserted.” Caménor said.

“It always looks this way. The Sometimes Inn is known to those who need to know it,” Uzir said. “Come on.”

“Why is it called the Sometimes Inn?” Col asked.

“Because sometimes the food is good and the beds are clean and sometimes they’re not,” Uzir said. He opened the door and they stepped inside.

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Interested?

Find Earthking on Goodreads, StoryGraph, IndieStoryGeek and Amazon.

Thank you for hanging out with us today. Connect with Chris on his website, Instagram, and Facebook.

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If you are an indie author and would like to do a book excerpt, check out my work with me page for details. Check out other book excerpts here.

Cover image: Photo on Unsplash