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Announcement: Lord of Ravens, by Amelia Faulkner

Lord of RavensQSFer Amelia Faulkner has a new MM urban fantasy book out:

Lover. Predator. Killer.

Laurence Riley’s inheritance comes with a price – one he’s not at all sure he can pay. When his urge to hunt grows out of control, he sends a desperate prayer to his ancestor for guidance. But he never expected that Herne the Hunter would answer.

Scion. Target. Victim.

There are horrors lurking in Quentin d’Arcy’s past, but they won’t hide there forever. Something ancient is coming to take him home: a creature of nightmare who feasts on the flesh of children. When the choice is between his own life and the lives of innocents, there is no choice at all.

Honesty is the worst policy.

A legendary horror comes to San Diego, but it’s merely an emissary. Laurence has seen the real monster, and it’s a darkness which will destroy everything he loves – especially if Quentin ever finds out what it did to him as a child.

It’s down to Laurence to prepare for war against a force which far outmatches him. The enemy has the most powerful weapon of all at his disposal, and if they’re to stand a chance, Laurence must master the same power.

He must learn magic.

Inheritance Book Three



He tore through scrub and shrub alike. Those who would not bend of their own will bent to his instead. The scent trail of his prey was bright and fresh and the plant life it thought would provide cover would instead offer only betrayal.

Leaves rustled as trees reshaped themselves for the hunter. He was one with them, for they knew that nutrients left from his kill would sink through dry earth and nourish their roots. The cycle would remain unbroken.

Laurence stilled. The scent was strongest here. His prey had left spoor up and around the trunk of a tree, but that was a mistake which was to cost the beast its life.

This was the wrong night to trust a tree.

Laurence raised his head and commanded the tree to release its fugitive, and it did so without hesitation. Boughs shook. Red leaves fell like blood-touched snow.

The squirrel clutched at thin air as the tree rejected it.

It was too soon to allow himself to feel triumphant. His prey was worthy, and the hunt was not yet over, so Laurence sprang, his hands forward to snatch the creature from the air while it was still vulnerable.

It gave a high-pitched squeak, but Laurence wasted no time. His hands turned like he was opening a jar.

The squirrel’s neck snapped.

Now he could let the triumph take hold.

Laurence hunkered down with his back to the tree and used the shrubs for cover as he tore into the meat with his teeth.


Laurence jerked awake with a muffled yell.

Goddess, it was cold. Maybe he’d kicked the sheets off.

Where was Quentin?

His thoughts were a mess. The dream was so real he swore he could taste blood.


There was something in his mouth. It felt like dog fur. Damn stuff got everywhere. He spat it out and wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, but that only got another strand of fluff right up against one eyeball, where it scratched and irritated and made his eye water.

Laurence growled and tried to swing his legs out of bed.

Dry leaves crinkled beneath his naked legs.

Startled by the unexpected, he lost his balance and fell against the parched earth. Faint moonlight filtered through the almost bare branches overhead and slowly the world came into focus.

His fingers were spattered with darkness.

The grisly remains of a squirrel lay discarded by his side.

It took a second for his gut to react to the news, but when it did, Laurence crawled onto all fours and started to heave.

Author Bio

Amelia Faulkner was born in Thame, Oxfordshire, and sprouted upward in short order. The ground around Thame is reasonably mucky, especially in the winter, and she can’t be blamed for wanting to get away from it.

Raised on a steady diet of Star Trek and Doctor Who, Amelia stood no chance in not becoming a grade-A geek. She has sat on the board of the British Fantasy Society, contributed fiction and fluff to various published roleplaying games, and written non-fiction for SciFiNow and SFX Magazines. For every positive there is an equal and opposite negative, and Amelia is forced to admit that she loves Wild Wild West.

In her spare time she enjoys travel, photography, walking her Corgi, and trying to convince her friends to replay the Pathfinder Adventure Card Game with all the Goblins decks.

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