Welcome friends. I know many indie authors but there is only one who loves her stories so much that a new editions for her books are an integral part of her writing process: I am talking about none other than Erynn Lehtonen. You have met her many time son the blog, in conversation with me for multiple reasons. I did a cover reveal for another edition of her book a year or so back and now the third edition is out! This newly updated 3rd edition of Spirit of the Dragon is twice as long as its predecessor and engages more deeply with the mythology of the world and the overarching themes of the series. It will be free on all stores from Nov 12th (today!) to 19th to celebrate! Read on for the synopsis, excerpt and buy link.
There is a price attached to every dream…
After twins Genshu Masanori and Genshu Hidekazu witness a kidnapping at the annual Midsummer Festival, they discover the woman taken wasn’t this sorcerer’s first victim, nor will she be the last.
They will break clan laws against warfare if that’s what it takes to bring the missing women home safe.
They will sign their lives away to the prestigious Tsukiko Academy, regardless of the rumours about the Headmaster and the dark secrets harboured within the school grounds.
They will give up the lives they know for a chance to uncover the real reason their family gave up their legacy as wyvern-slayers and swore a vow of peace.
A pact with a mysterious dragon spirit, embracing their future as warriors, and servitude to the Tsukiko Academy is only the beginning.
The twins have one chance to unravel the sorcerer’s sinister plan. If they can’t find him in time, the game he whispers about might be the last anyone ever plays.
Jump into the world of Yumihari, a land filled with spirits, dragons, monsters, and stunning characters wielding elemental magic to save their homeland. If you love epic fight scenes, mystery and political intrigue, mythology, monsters, mayhem, and progression fantasy, you will love Spirit of the Dragon and the Yokai Calling series.
Pick up your copy of the book and experience the first part of the adventure today!
Excerpt: Spirit of Dragon, Third Edition
Chapter 1
He was stuck. Great.
People pressed at Genshu Masanori from all sides, packed like canes of bamboo to make way for the procession of dancers. Lithe bodies leapt around sapphire paper dragons. Glimmering coils spiralled to the rhythm of festival drums. Pops of smoke and light fanned out to reveal the illusory shapes of hulking demons, which the performers slew with precise cuts of their katana to cheers of the crowd.
Masanori craned his neck, trying to look over the parade and to the other side of the dancers. The Dragon Goddess Fountain sprayed a prism of indigo water into the pool below, and several figures sat on the edge, but he couldn’t see their faces. Aihi told him to meet her in the square, but that had been before the schedule for the Midsummer Festival changed and they rerouted a whole parade because some kids thought it would be funny to vandalize the streets that morning with a fake O-Kuruma summoning ritual.
Okay, no, those mock spells were hilarious. When he was younger, Masanori tried conjuring demons—and failed—too. His stunts came much to the dismay of his ‘proper’ parents who wanted nothing more than for him to sit still in a laboratory instead of fantasizing about slaying monsters. Unfortunately, this trickery interfered with the first time Masanori was going to see Aihi for more than a passing smile in the palace hallways in over a month.
He wriggled closer to the side of the procession. Was that her on the edge of the fountain? Glossy black hair, fine blue haori overcoat, looking away from the parade instead of at it? Ugh, who else would come all this way not to spare a single glance at the magnificent dancers?
Now he had to find a way across, and waiting out the show would take far too long. Aihi would give up and leave. Then he could kiss any chance of training with a sword outside the watchful eyes of his clan goodbye.
A woman elbowed Masanori in the ribs, pushing him into another man. Who then shoved Masanori back. Before he got a word in, the crowd fed him to the wolves and threw him right into the dancers.
A katana arced from a performer and toward Masanori’s exposed collar. He leaned out of the way and then ducked a second strike meant for the mirages rising from the smoke. Masanori grinned, and instead of backing off, assimilated into the cadence of the dance.
Now he’d found his way across.
In another lifetime, he could have been a true martial artist, a warrior, dancing on a battlefield and striking down wyverns and any beasts unfortunate enough to cross his path. A swipe and a stab, and the acrobats reduced the illusions to ash.
Masanori swirled under and around swords with each turn. He maintained the dancers’ flow, manipulating forbidden battle stances to inch toward the other side of the road. The katana at his waist was his mother’s, and drawing the blade would have made him a warrior-dancer, too, if for a few minutes. But he was too inexperienced with swords, and he wasn’t foolish enough to risk lopping off someone’s head for a thrill.
The rhythm of the dance shifted, and Masanori twisted in the opposite direction of the acrobats. A katana soared through the smoke—straight for his solar plexus. To avoid the strike, he careened backward and right into another dancer. They stumbled, two more performers toppling onto the market’s cobbled ground.
“Watch it, kid!”
A series of curses, and then a blade flew in Masanori’s direction. Gasps echoed from the crowd as the catastrophe erupted, him right in the middle.
A hand from outside the pack of dancers grabbed his sleeve and yanked him away from the incoming sword. Masanori toppled, praying to the Dragon Goddess that he wouldn’t land on the sharp end of a misplaced weapon. He fell into the centre of the square, smacking his head against the stone edge of the Goddess fountain.
“Trying to get yourself killed already? We’ve yet been here ten minutes.”
Hidekazu loomed from above. Streams of his ebony hair fell over his shoulders, at least what wasn’t captured in a messy topknot. The familiar blue haori Masanori had spotted from across the road billowed around Hidekazu’s thin arms when he offered a hand.
Masanori scowled instead of accepting. It wasn’t Aihi he spotted on the fountain, but his twin brother, Hidekazu. The only other person who would rather read a book than watch the parade.
“Relax, I had everything under control.” Masanori rubbed the sore spot at the back of his skull. The injury would throb for a few days, but better than another stab wound.
“Consider being nearly eviscerated by a blade not aimed at you a warning not to test the Goddess’ patience.” Laughter erupted from Hidekazu, bemused by his own joke. Though it was a joke, the laughter only stung Masanori more.
“You sound like you’re telling me to give up. Why should I when you’re on the verge of achieving what we’ve both wanted our entire lives?” Masanori glared at his twin’s lanky form. “You’re built like a bamboo pole, not a proper bushi, yet you’ll become one before me.”
Bushi. The word spread across Masanori’s tongue like ash—the flavour of desolated dreams.
He and Hidekazu longed to join the ranks of bushi, the warrior elite who fought to defend Seiryuu, their homeland, from a myriad of threats. Demons, spirits, creatures of the night, and, when necessary, from neighbouring nations who might be foolish enough to challenge Seiryuu.
“If it was up to me, I would let you take my place, Masa.” Hidekazu’s words rang hollow in Masanori’s ears.
“Then why don’t you?”
Around them, the Midsummer Festival carried on, singers and drums filling the evening with music and laughter. Hidekazu wouldn’t meet his eyes. He stared at the statue of the Goddess, Shirashi, where mist spewed from the fanged mouth of her dragon form. “It’s not so simple.”
“Father changed his mind for you just because you have ki and I don’t?” Masanori’s fingers thrummed along the hilt of his mother’s katana, a family heirloom which he’d taken without permission. “He’ll swear up and down that he doesn’t think less of me because I’m not a majyu, but here you are, training to become a bushi, and I’m stuck as a ki-engineer.” He squeezed the sword in an attempt to not let that bother him, too, but it always would: “A ki-engineer with no ki.”
Cursed without the gift of the Goddess—ki, the energy that flowed through every living and non-living object.
Over fifty percent of the Seiryan population could manipulate the natural elements—fire, water, earth, and air—to some degree by using ki. However, many also lived without the Goddess’ grace in their veins and didn’t feel neglected like Masanori did. But he was different. Born to the Genshu clan, one of the most prolific families of majyu—ki wielders—Masanori was supposed to be special like Hidekazu, who could conjure all four elements at will.
Most majyu could use one or two. Masanori had none, not even a spark to fuel his so-called ki-engineering projects.
Until now, at least. He thumbed the leather cord hanging from his collar, weighed down by a pouch tucked beneath his kimono. If Hidekazu refused to talk about his arrangement with Genshu Dano, their father and clan leader, then Masanori wasn’t going to share his latest invention, either.
Hidekazu waggled his hand, still waiting for Masanori to accept. “Come on, the Midsummer Festival is all about embracing the past in a new light.”
“Really? Then why do we always spend the night feasting on sweet pudding and taiyaki?” Masanori could practically taste the flaky, fish-shaped pastries melting in his mouth.
“That, my brother, is my favourite kind of worship.”
With a grin, Masanori conceded and took Hidekazu’s hand. “I thought your favourite was those fake O-Kuruma summoning rituals that Bushi Uriku always tricked the kids into. I wonder if he was the one who got them into trouble this morning.”
“Probably, but we’re not twelve anymore,” Hidekazu said. “I think we’re a little past trying to summon the Demon Lord to fix our problems.”
“Hey, speak for yourself. I wanted to summon him so I could become a bushi. Though, I wonder if the spells failed because we never offered taiyaki.”
“Let’s not try, huh?”
About Erynn Lehtonen
Erynn is amassing an army of fluffy minions to take over the world. Currently at 42 and counting, but her progress stalled because she hasn’t figured out soul transmutation. In the meantime, she entertains a “mild” tea obsession and writes epic fantasy. It’s her goal to introduce readers to the complexities of mental illness through the perspectives of lifelike characters in fantasy worlds.
Connect with Erynn on her website, Twitter and Instagram.
Curious about differences from the last edition? Check out the excerpt for that one here!
Cover Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash
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