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New Release: The Quest for Cowmelot – Blake R. Wolfe

The Quest for Cowmelot - Blake R. Wolfe

QSFer Blake R. Wolfe has a new queer comedic fantasy featuring a bisexual cow: The Quest for Cowmelot.

I was just a normal cow until a fae curse changed the course of my life…

After incurring the wrath of the fairy HOA, my life was changed forever. On my first outing to a nearby town with my owner, I found myself tied up to a strange metal stick. Without a thought, I wrapped my big ole cow tongue around it and tried to get myself loose. Instead of finding freedom, I ended up pulling a legendary sword from a stone. The moment it touched my cow lips, I could speak and think like a hooman.

Now everyone has abandoned me, telling me I’ve been infected by something called ‘Destiny’. Not only that, the evil owner of Hamazon, Geoff Geezos, is hot on my tail, trying to get me to join his board of directors. But the moment I tell him no he swears and oath to take me down. With the help of my friends (a non-magic wizard, a not-a-centaur, and a barbarian bunny girl) I have to trek across the world in search of Cowmelot to take my place as the one and true king before evil can take my place.

I hate all of this.

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I am a happy cow.

Or at least I was until I became a king.

Let me explain.

Once upon a time, as these stories go, there was a young farm boy. That farm boy, being prone to whimsy and wonder, spent many of his days dreaming about daring sword fights, magic spells, and fire breathing dragons. He knew he was a chosen one, just like all the other farm boys in the village, and one day Destiny would call for him to complete his noble and heroic quest.

But that day never came. At least not until he was much older.

A rumor skittered into the small village mill one day, brought by a traveling merchant from the south. It was strange and inconceivable to most, but held great intrigue. It seemed a magical sword had been discovered in the middle of a town far, far away. Immediately, a grand ancient wizard in a large hat was summoned and with his breadth of arcane knowledge he identified it as the supremely hard-to-find mystical sword of kings! He told all that would listen that whoever should pull the blade from the stone would be the one and true king of all the world. He and he alone would lead them into everlasting peace and prosperity. And of course, everyone believed him because who would doubt a man wearing such an elegantly shaped hat?

Naturally word spread quickly and hordes of men flocked to the site from all over the world to try to pull the sword from the stone. At first only the great kings were allowed to try to pull the blade. Having already obtained kinghood, they assumed they deserved it for all their hard work and bootstrap pulling to obtain their royal position. When they failed the knights came in, thinking their brave deeds and gallant slaying of beasts would win them favor, but it was not so. At last the nobles took their shot, each knowing that above all the others, they deserved the sword more because it was their right to bear arms and nobody would tell them otherwise. None were successful and the great wizard reminded them again and again, that only he of purest heart and unwavering honor could remove it. Eventually all the gentry gave up on the sword, calling it fake and rigged, just like the most recent election. Many began to spread rumors that they had actually pulled the sword from the stone, but the neighboring country of Jhina had covered up his huge and undeniable success.

The farm boy, now a young man, quite naturally knew it was his Destiny to draw the sword to become the one and true king. After an entire lifetime of daydreaming and preparing, he made the brave decision to leave his life behind and go after it. At first he thought to wait a while to see if his parents would be killed by some evil sorcerer, but since none obliged, he figured he would have to leave anyhow. Gathering his things and bidding his parents farewell forever, he set off on the long journey across the wilder parts of the world. He knew the sword lay far to the southeast in the small town of Piami, just north of the neverending swamps. Confident Destiny would lead his way, he tossed the map his mother had given him in the closest river he could find and followed his heart.

Traveling for what seemed like forever, the young man made his way across the world, which was in fact a rather smallish island no bigger than the mythical land of beavers known as Oregon. That however, didn’t stop the boy. Day and night he trudged through fae infested forest buffets, nude nymph soaked rivers, and passed by lakes full of dead women handing out free swords. They claimed the sword was obligation free, but it came with a pamphlet about their totally-not-a-pyramid-scheme food container business called Dupperware. One such watery tart claimed that it could make you many gold coins in your first year with little or no effort on your part. But the farm boy resisted all their temptations with pride and continued on, mind bent on his Destiny that would finally make him the hero he’d always dreamed of being.

When he finally arrived in the small village of Piami, he was exhausted, bruised, and nearly starved to death. It was a dark and stormy day, the rain pouring down on the nearby roofs. To his surprise, he received many odd stares from the locals. Little did he know that he’d been wandering for more than three years and at the nearest puddle of water was shocked to see how haggard and skeletal he looked. But again, with little regard for anything else, Destiny drove him forward. Before he had a chance to bathe or eat, he strode through the rainy village, looking for the sword buried in rock and his honor alongside it.

Coming around the corner of a small building he saw it at last. The clouds parted and a beam of sunlight shone down from the heavens, illuminating the sword, the ruby hilt shining brilliantly. A joyous singing filled the air as he stepped forward, not noticing the cart full of musically-inclined monks driving by, practicing for their concert with the pope. He felt his posture straighten, the muscles in his body flooding back to life after months of too little to eat. All at once he was the young farm boy again, staring at his grand Destiny that only lay a few feet in front of him.

He approached the massive black stone. It was broken at the edges and glimmered in the rain like glass, sunlight filling its dark interior. Reaching down he touched it with his bare hand and winced as pain shot through his palm. Pulling it back he saw the shallow cut and realized the stone was made almost entirely of obsidian, its edges jagged and razor sharp. Ignoring the pain he lifted his gaze to the sword. The hilt was a shining and ornately carved silver. On the pommel was a large ruby set into the metal, worth more money than his family’s entire farm and beyond. He glanced around, looking for the ancient and renowned wizard, but saw no one. In fact, nobody was paying him any mind as he climbed up and approached the sword.

Wiping the blood away on his dirt-caked clothing, he reached down and wrapped his hands around the hilt of the sword, feeling the cold metal beneath them. The thick shaft felt good and natural in his hand. He glanced around once more, wishing the wizard was nearby so he could at least have a witness, but knew once he jerked the sword fast and hard, the wizard would come for him. Everyone in the world would know his name, the name of their one and true king. He was the chosen one and it was time he took his rightful place. Expecting the sword to come loose freely, he gave it a gentle tug.

But it did not move.

Author Bio

Blake Wolfe has adored werewolves and monsters since he was a child growing up in a small rural town. Now he lives near the shores of Lake Michigan with his two partners and two cats that need to be fed every three seconds. He spends most of his time hiking through the nearby forest, thinking up the next great love story for his readers.

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