Tuesday, 10 October 2017

Monday, 9 October 2017

Excerpt ~ Of Noble Blood ~ Part 7 The Demon Series

Of Noble Blood
The Demon Series Part 7

“My queen.”
Queen Ta-maal turned, as the seer approached. “Lewaer? What have you to tell me?”
“The council has convened.”
Ta-maal’s brow furrowed. “Why was I not informed?”
Lewaer came close. “The timeline, Your Majesty, it has been altered.”
For a moment, Ta-maal did not speak. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, my dear Lewaer.”
“It’s the consensus of the council. This timeline has shifted. What you see, should not be.” She wandered to the window. “The land should be fertile. The king…alive.”
Ta-maal pressed a hand to her stomach. “How can this be? The king has been dead for ten years. The land scorched and buildings in ruin, as far back as I can remember.”
“The timeline, in which we are now living, should not exist. There has been a shift which has created a ripple effect, leaving us in this world as we see it now.”
“You say it has been altered from its current course?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. We traced the source to our present. Someone among us must have used the ancient texts, bringing into being what you see before us.”
“One of our own?” Ta-maal straightened. “Who has done such a thing?”
“We have yet to determine the source, or why they have done so.”
“Surely, there are a limited few.”
“Indeed.” Lewaer nodded. “And they’ve used those texts to mask their identity. We cannot hold all with access accountable. These individuals have been chosen carefully, for their unique ability to read and interpret those texts. Yet we cannot allow any one of them to access the texts alone. It has been decided, should the texts need be consulted, all must be present at one time. That way no one can overpower another, to once more misuse the sacred books.”
“A wise approach.” Ta-maal gathered herself. “Please, tell me there is a way to correct it.”
“There is…”
“Why do you hesitate?”
“The timeline can be restored, but you may not approve of the manner in which it must be done.”
“I see.” Ta-maal sat. “Tell me.”
“It must be Princess Amara.”
“My daughter?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“But she is all of eighteen.”
Lewaer did not answer.
“And there is no other?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
Ta-maal went to the window. Looking out over the land, she was silent for some time. “Cala? Could you find Princess Amara, and ask her to please come to me? There is something I must discuss with her.”

* * *

Amara drew her fingertips over the smooth, cold surface of the gold plaque. “For my beloved Jesse.” The holder possessed a fresh rose. “Aegan?”
“Yes, Princess.”
Amara sighed. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“Sorry, Prin—”
Amara faced her, and they both laughed. “You’re doing that on purpose. You know how much I dislike it.”
Aegan grinned. “You wanted to know about the plaque?”
“Yes. You know of it?”
“It’s a mystery. Has been for centuries. All anyone knows is it appeared one day. No one knows who put it there, or how they got it in.”
“But how is that possible? And why haven’t they simply removed it?”
“They tried. But the next day it is always back, as if newly placed. And always a fresh flower. After many tries to remove it, they simply stopped. It’s always immaculately kept, as the day it was found. Yet no one here tends it.”
Amara frowned. “Who puts the flower in the holder?”
“No one knows, but every day there is always a fresh flower. No one is seen. No one is heard. But every day a fresh flower appears.”
Amara took the flower from its holder and inhaled its delicate scent. “Whoever she is, she must love him very much.”
Aegan came close. “I would agree. Very much.”
No sooner than Amara slipped the flower into its holder, it vanished. She straightened, the holder and plaque disappearing from the wall. The room darkened and she turned. It was empty. “Aegan?” She reached out, her arm covered in a torn and dirty sleeve. “What…?” Lowering her head, she gasped. Her dress was soiled, its fabric worn and frayed. “How can this be?”
“How can what be?”
Amara started. “Aegan? Where did you go?”
Aegan blinked. “Princess?”
Her dress was once more as it had been, the room bright. “You were gone. And my dress…the plaque…” She lifted her gaze to the wall. There was no plaque. No holder. No flower.
Amara spun on Aegan. “The plaque. The one with the flower. It was right here.”
“I know of no plaque.”
It was Amara’s turn to blink. “But…you just spoke of it.”
Aegan’s brow knitted. “I…”
Amara pressed her hand upon the wall, where the plaque had been. “But I saw it. I held the rose.”

Sunday, 8 October 2017

Coming October 10

Coming October 10
A new release by E. H. James

Of Noble Blood
A Paranormal Novelette

Being the queen’s daughter doesn’t exclude you, when the fate of the world is in the balance. And when Princess Amara has the opportunity to help, she readily accepts.

aveler, she journeys back through the centuries to the year 1522. Here she retrieves a baby boy and brings him forward to the year 1995, where he becomes Jesse Miller.

Unaware he is chosen, he comes to realize he alone must save the world. And with the help of Amara, he must travel further yet into the future, to destroy the demon infiltration and repair the damaged timeline.

But the story is far from over, and when he returns to 2233, where he lives with Amara, he discovers there is far more to experience than he can possibly imagine.

Monday, 25 September 2017

Reviews ~ The Orah

The Orah
A time travel short story
by E. H. James

Liz wished she could go back and do it all again.
After all, it was Liz’s fault her mom was dead…or so she believed. Had Liz not delayed her, her mom never would have been killed by that car. And as the twentieth anniversary of her mother’s death came around, Liz could not help but wish it had been her instead. That is, until a gentlemen sits next to her on the park bench. He tells her his story, and she feels strangely compelled to tell him hers, but when he leaves her his pocket watch as a gift, she cannot believe what is happening. Only this isn’t just any watch, as she soon discovers, and she is pulled back in time.
Are events coincidental, even random? Or is there a perfectly timed symmetry yet to be lived? The possessor of the Orah is the only one to know.

5 Stars 
Powerful short story. ~ Danyca Russell

5 Stars
Very Poignant! ~ snscuster

4 Stars 
Beautiful ~ Rachael

5 Stars
I wasn't expecting the ending, and I doubt you will either. ~ Heart of a Philanthropist 

5 Stars
Leaves you wanting more. ~ nickindle

5 Stars
A touching tale. ~ Heather

4 Stars
A great read for those who love time travel or "Twilight Zone" fans. ~ Tia's Kindle Shelf

Sunday, 24 September 2017

5 Stars
The Orah
A time travel short story...

"James', holding a gracefully poised pen, has crafted a gentle story of a paranormal reunion that saved a woman's life."
~ The Literary Apothecary

For the full review go to

Thursday, 31 August 2017

Nicholas ~ Excerpt

Nicholas: Lost Innocence


The boy brushed the dirt from his forehead with the sleeve of his grey tweed coat. He shivered, his knickers barely reaching his knees. Hugging his teddy bear tightly, his chin trembled. A tear rolled down his cheek. “Mommy?”
His fingers throbbed, their tips bloodied, his fingernails broken.
He blinked up into the light of the streetlamp. Walking through the grass, he wove his way through the headstones and into the street.
A gentle breeze swept over his face. It was quiet, but for the leaves rustling overhead.
* * *
Jason Mills grinned and kissed his wife Diane.
She ran a finger down his cheek. Nestling her head on his shoulder, she smiled. Opening her eyes, she then gasped. “Jason!”
Jason directed his eyes to the road. There in its middle was a small boy clutching a teddy bear. He slammed on the brakes. The car stopped mere inches from where he stood.
She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Did we hit him?”
They both scrambled from the car and into the street.
The boy gazed up at them, in the glare of the headlights.
They both stared, and she looked down the road and into the neighboring yards. She kneeled before him and wiped the dirt from his face. “Sweetie? What are you doing out here? Where’s your mommy?”
He bowed his head, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Oh, honey.” She took him in her arms and pulled him close. “It’s okay. We’ll help you find your mommy.” She lifted him into her arms.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re taking him to the police station, that’s what we’re doing. We can’t leave him out here.”
“What about his parents?”
She waved an arm at the empty street. “Do you see anyone?”
She carried him into the car and set him on her lap. He rested his head on her shoulder, and she ran her fingertips over his hair. “My, that’s such a handsome suit. Can you tell me your name?” He didn’t answer, and she lifted the back of his collar.
Jason got back behind the wheel. “Now what are you doing?”
“Parents usually sew their kid’s names into their clothes. You know that.”
The boy closed his eyes and fell to sleep.
“Poor thing. Must be exhausted.” She studied his clothes. “How did he get covered in dirt? And who puts their kid in shorts to dress up?”
Jason closed the door and pulled the car over. “I think they used to call those knickers.”
“Look at him. He looks as though he’s dressed for Sunday service, with his little shirt and tie. And what happened to his fingers? It looks as though he was clawing at something.” She sighed, resting back in her seat. “So how did you come to be out here, in the middle of the night?”
Turning back in the direction he came, Jason drove to the police station.