Morgorth is known as the Dark Mage of the North. But now all he feels is light and love as he pursues a budding relationship with Aishe, a dialen of the Ravena tribe. Morgorth hardly believes his good fortune. He has allowed Aishe into his home, into his bed, into his heart. He laughs more, smiles more, and feels happier than he ever has before.
He should have known such bliss never lasts.
The Council of Mages, the ruling body over all mages on Karshian, knows he has Rambujek, a major stone of power — a stone won from a sorcerer. They also know his destiny — to become the Destroyer. Fearful, they send two emissaries to take the stone from Morgorth, using whatever means necessary. This includes tricks, threats to those under his protection, and the threat of war. A war Morgorth knows he would never survive.
Conflict soon arises between him and Aishe. Their tenuous relationship is put into jeopardy, their very beliefs about themselves and their love is put into question. Morgorth doubts if he should keep Aishe in his life. Can he protect Aishe from the monster he might become as well as his enemies?
Targeted Age Group:: 18+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I wanted to try my hand at an anti-hero. I’m not sure if I quite succeeded, but that doesn’t matter as much anymore. I love the story, the characters, and what the series has grown into. The characters keep surprising me, and I love the fantasy realm they inhabit. By the second book, the series itself took on another facet, which is the push-and-pull relationship between choices and destiny/fate. Along with that is the question of nature vs. nurture. I bring these sorts of philosophies/questions to the forefront since the main character of Morgorth, deals with them daily. Aishe (pronounced “ash”) deals with these dilemmas in his own way as well, but his role, while vitally important, is less complex than Morgorth’s.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I have a soft spot for “damaged” characters. I enjoy their journey and struggle to overcome their past, from either what was done to them, or what they did to others, and to find some purpose in their lives. That’s where I was coming from with Morgorth. He is a truly damaged character who has tried many ways to find a reason or a purpose for his life. Aishe isn’t damaged in the same way, but he has had things done to him, and yet has striven through the challenges, becoming a very strong character because of that.
For these two characters, I wanted them to be opposites in almost every way: in appearance, temperament, and personality. But I didn’t want them to be the combatant opposites. Despite their differences, they are truly meant for each other. They need each other and I don’t shy away from the appearance of dependency in their relationship, since I see dependency in most relationships. It’s not an inherently bad thing. Are Morgorth and Aishe two sides of the same whole? No. Are they whole people who need each other to be happy? Yes. They’re complete people but they form a strong and unwavering bond. One’s strength is the other’s weakness and visa-versa. This series might be fantasy, but the core of the stories is the romance between Morgorth and Aishe
The necromant let out a cry that threatened to shatter my eardrums. It echoed through the distance, bouncing off mountain and tree alike. The army of necromants screamed in answer, then surged toward me like a festering swarm, a red-eyed horde of carnage and death.
I took a deep breath, and fire burst from my hands. It was white with ferocious heat, and it clung to the dead bodies like they were dried wood. But the necromants kept coming. I flung pure force at those closest to me. Jaws snapping and hands grabbing, they jumped on me. I screamed when one bit into my shoulder and another latched its jaw around my leg. Their bites burned and tore; the pain added fuel to my magick.
Their stench attacked my nose, and I coughed with abhorrence. It wasn’t just the smell of death and decay from the bodies. It was the scent of the spirits. They smelled like sulfur and toxic waste, which coated the underworld. I could feel their stench begin to cling to me like sticky sap.
Desire for annihilation rose up, and I clung to it. I allowed my anger — my wrath against Nanna, Dyrc, the fucking Council — to fuel my power. Magick only works if you have the desire to see the outcome of using it. There can be no hesitation, no doubt when using magick. Your will has to be like stone. There had always been a dark part of me that I tried to push down, that I tried to ignore. I had desire to destroy, to annihilate. There was a wrath I carried inside me, born and bred from childhood, a wrath that wanted vengeance on the entire world. A wrath that tempted me to take the stones, to use them. A vengeance against ever being born. Just like Kierthak.
That wrath, that darkness, broke free as the necromants bit into my flesh, as they tried with overwhelming numbers to kill me. I did not feel despair, which saved me from falling into the Mage’s Wrath. I was only supremely pissed. The darkness wrapped around me like an electric cloud — one I controlled. I felt invincible.
A battle cry ripped from my throat, echoing as the necromants’ had. I surged into the air, using pure force to shove the lingering necromants off me. They circled below me, a swell of death and decay. I used an air tunnel to keep myself out of their reach and flew high in the sky. With part of my magick keeping me aloft, I used another part to form my spell. Multitasking with magick was difficult and dangerous, but my focus was unbreakable. My entire world had shrunk down to exterminating that which should have stayed dead.
The sensation of my own blood running down my skin, the pungent scent, the warm stickiness against my clammy skin, only served to harden my will. With several words spoken, I created a large blade of pure force, glinting in the light of the cold sun.
I spread my hands, the blade attached to them, sharp and unyielding. I swept around the necromants and descended slightly, but still remained above their heads. They jumped up, trying to grab my legs, but the air tunnel kept bouncing them back. They were snapping and drooling like rabid dogs, their filmy eyes bright with hunger. But the skulls were the most frightful — the red lights shining out of those black eye sockets were what nightmares were made of. Their hands strained and clawed, but I was out of their reach.
I raised the blade, smiling slowly. It took a lot of energy to keep the blade intact, since it was made of pure force. But I hardly felt the drain on my magick — all I felt was the exhilaration and anticipation of seeing all those dead heads go flying.
I brought the blade down and swept it over the necromants, using more magick to guide it to its targets. The blade shifted and bent, slicing many of them at the neck. It didn’t matter if they were standing, crouching, or jumping to avoid the blade. The blade bent to slice as many necks as possible. One third of the army was gone, but that only made the other portion stronger. I could see the spirits of violence, which looked to be nothing more than red lights or mist, enter the remaining corpses.
I swept the blade down again, but the necromants were now faster and more cunning. They dodged and rolled, or managed to jump over the blade. I snarled and swung the blade again. I caught some who just weren’t quick enough. But at this rate, I would spend too much time chasing after them. I knew I was already taking too much time. Aishe needed me to the south.
I landed on the ground, and the necromants howled with delight. The blade vanished. I stood before them, daring them.
“Come on then!” I shouted, flames dancing up and down my arms. “What are you waiting for?”
They came like obedient dogs. Their thirst for death was often stronger than their sense of survival. I created small blades of force and shot them at those nearest to me, decapitating them swiftly. The bodies fell, useless and lifeless once more. But the spirits continued to move, making those few left the most terrible.
My hands never stopped moving as blades kept appearing, as they kept slicing. I then began to create blades out of fire, simultaneously decapitating and burning the corpses. But there were too many. They just kept coming.
But I never gave up. It wasn’t an option. Aishe needed me.
About the Author:
M.D. Grimm lives in the wet state of Oregon, and when she’s not reading, writing, or watching movies, she dreams of owning a pet dragon. She’s wanted to become an author since second grade and feels that her dreams are finally coming true. She was fortunate to have supporting parents who never told her to “get her head out of the clouds.” While she doesn’t like to write in only one set genre, she feels romance is at the core of most of her stories. M.D. earned a Bachelor of Arts in English at the University of Oregon and hopes to put that degree to good use in the literature world as well as the “real” world.
Links to Purchase Print Books
Link to Buy Peridot: War and Peace (The Stones of Power #2) Print Edition at Amazon
Link to Buy Peridot: War and Peace (The Stones of Power #2) Print Edition at Barnes and Noble
Links to Purchase eBooks
Link To Buy Peridot: War and Peace (The Stones of Power #2) On Amazon
Link to Peridot: War and Peace (The Stones of Power #2) on Barnes and Noble
Link to Peridot: War and Peace (The Stones of Power #2) for sale on Smashwords
Have you read this book? Tell us what you thought!