Guest Post: ‘Ghost of the Asylum’ author Ty Johnston

Fantasy author Ty Johnston’s blog tour 2011 is running from November 1 through November 30. His novels include City of Rogues, Bayne’s Climb and More than Kin, all of which are available for the Kindle (http://www.amazon.com/Ty-Johnston/e/B002MCBQRU/ ), the Nook (http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/ty-johnston ) and online at Smashwords (http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/darkbow ). His latest novel, Ghosts of the Asylum (http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00629GGVK ), is now available for in all major e-book formats. To find out more, follow him at his blog tyjohnston.blogspot.com.

Hello there. I have obviously had little time for blogging, but I make time for pleasure reading. My sanity requires it. The book I am reading now is gritty fantasy novel set in a city of intrigue and machinations. One man, skilled and dangerous, fights and deduces his way through maze of plotsand relationships. The man is Kron Darkbow, and the city is Bond.

It is exactly the kind of read I need when I have things to wrestle on my own. I can slink through the alleys with Kron, or navigate the rooftops with him and wonder who he should trust — if anyone. Trust is a rare commodity in Bond.

Ty has blessed this blog with an excerpt from his latest Kron Darkbow novel, “Ghosts of the Asylum.” Here it is:

The hammer struck again. Splinters of wood rained upon the air as the door slammed open and Mama Kaf filled the doorway.

She took one look across the entrance room to where Eel stood, the lad’s knees quivering, and tromped in his direction.

The others filed into the room behind her, pausing to take in their surroundings before moving forward.

Kerjim caught a glimpse of his nephew around the big woman’s side. He smiled. “Oh, this is a pleasant surprise.”

Mama Kaf slung her weapon up on a beefy shoulder, steadying it for a strike.

Fear plain on his face, Eel stood his ground, his curved knife held in front and his short sword out to one side.

The woman roared, shaking the ground. The hammer swung down from on high as if an angry god were unleashing fury. There was a swishing whistle through the air as Eel darted back, then the cracking of the steel mallet upon marble. The hammer’s ringing jarred the nerves, sending shivers along the spines of all present with the exception of Mama Kaf herself, who tugged back on her weapon and brought it up to her shoulder once more.

Eel’s feet remained planted, but his shoulders shifted from side to side, readying him for a lunge one way or the other. It was obvious to everyone all he could do was try to avoid the mad brute, for there seemed no way his little blades could put a stop to his attacker.

Kerjim sighed and stepped forward. “Hold!”

Mama Kaf stood motionless, her hammer gripped in both hands in front of her heaving chest. Her massive head twisted slightly to one side, a squinting eye staring at the Pursian.

“We are here for Darkbow,” Kerjim said. “If my former nephew will inform us as to the man’s location, we might allow him to live.”

Mama Kaf’s head rolled around to stare at the young man before her.

Eel glanced around the big woman’s shoulders to his uncle. “Go to hell.”

The hammer came up.