Sequel to END OF DAYS_FREE!

http://www.amazon.com/THREE-SPIRIT-KNIGHT-Roland-Yeomans-ebook/dp/B00AD94EQE/

FREE!

For a LIMITED TIME!

 {Starting Midnight Pacific Time}

The End of Days has swept away the valiant heroes in the Katrina devastated French Quarter. 

Only one survivor: Alice Wentworth, the Victorian ghoul. 

 Victor Standish, son of the Angel of Death, returns to find only his great love, Alice, still alive. 

The others he loved are gone. When they needed him, he was not there. 

"They have gone where it is impossible to bring them back," Alice sobs.

Victor shakes his head.  "Impossible just gives birth to legends."

And though it endangers all Reality, getting his loved ones back is what Victor plans on doing!

 REVIEWS:
 

5 Stars -- RICH STORYTELLING:

"Roland Yeomans is an incredible storyteller. The Three Spirit Knight is rich story filled with exciting and interesting characters like Alice and Victor. Reading this story was a rewarding experience." 

- RACHELLE WORKMAN

5 Stars --  UNIQUE

"I loved this book. It was definitely unique. A little sci-fi-time travel- mixed with ghouls, demons, vampires, Gods and Godesses.

And I loved the main character, Victor Standish, a gypsy, and the son to the Mother of Death.

I know this is going to sound rather quirky, but this book had a lot of heartfelt wisdom and universal truths that left me in deep thought--

sometimes hysterically laughing."
 

I'm looking forward to reading more of his books."

- SHELLY ARKON

5 Stars -- COME ON, TAKE THE JOURNEY

"Three Spirit Knight includes a history lesson, a delving into the underworld, a love story, and a hop scotch through time. 

Victor Standish, son of The Angel of Death, battles past presidents, ghosts and goblins, while managing to keep his sense of humor intact, in his latest adventure with Alice.

Roland Yeomans's work is an experience well worth one's time. Come on, take the journey. You won't be disappointed."

- ELLIOT GRACE, author of SOUTH OF CHARM

4 Stars -- A TRIP INTO DANTE'S HELLS

 "Like descending into Dante's Hells, Victor Standish goes deeper and deeper into situations he's not meant to survive. 

Everyone wants a bit of him. In the beginning of this story, Victor is on his way to a duel with Andrew Jackson, in 1834. 

Later he is sent into the realm of Faerie. In each time episode, the entourage who support him grows, as does the danger lurking in the shadows.

 Sam McCord, Alice, Coyote, and others are there to lend a trick or two when needed. With a mother called the Angel of Death, Victor has to be quick on his feet.

 He never knows when she'll show at precisely the right moment to throw him into another time era. 

He knows he'll land on his feet, most of the time.

The world inside Meilori's is a world that gives no return guarantees. 

Victor's a hero, but he's not in shining armor. Make that street casual."

- D.G. Hudson

5 Stars -- LEAPS OF FAITH

" I am no stranger to the works of Mr. Yeomans. 

Each one of his books holds a treasured lesson amongst the descriptive prose and action-packed scenes. 

Once again Victor and Alice are on the move.

 Each leap of faith changes the destiny of all mankind. 

Victor's forever wit and street-wise manners manages to keep himself alive, but for how long?

 Each chapter engages the reader with an intriguing quote. 

This, along with Yeoman's incredible historical knowledge and unlimited imagination, 

 fuels our own and takes us on a whirlwind of a journey."

- Michael Di Gesu

THREE SPIRIT NIGHT WITH ELLIOT GRACE AT MEILORI'S

SOUTH OF CHARM ...

West of the voodoo moon

and beyond the help of civilization ...

That is Meilori's at THREE SPIRIT NIGHT.

Elliot kept shaking his head as his eyes darted from one part of Meilori's to another.

"Roland, this place keeps changing ... and getting bigger ... and weirder.

He was glancing at Norah and Grace Jones singing, "Strange, I've Seen Your Face Before" to the tune of LIBERTANGO.

"Odin's Beard!," bellowed Beowulf from a corner table as the golden skinned giant once again beat him at arm wrestling.

I laughed, "Beowulf thinks one day he will actually beat Doc Savage."

Elliot whispered, "THE Doc Savage?"

Mesmer, the only cat who owns a restaurant in the French Quarter, lithely leapt up on the empty chair next to me and yowled oddly.

I smiled, "Mesmer wants you to call him THE Doc Savage to his face."

Elliot laughed drily, "No, I think I'll pass."

Mesmer yowled again, and I translated once more, "She says The McCord has been delayed. And she wants to ask you a question about SOUTH OF CHARM."

Elliot, showing more adaptiveness than most, shook his head, swallowed, and turned to Mesmer. "Ask away."

Mesmer yowled a bit longer than usual, translating to : "Humans do not interest me, but I am intrigued by the cat in SOUTH OF CHARM. What does he represent? Who or what inspired you to be wise enough to include a feline?"

Elliot rubbed his chin reflectively.

"Considering the mystery behind the ageless tabby in my story, I've been asked through emails, and once or twice at a local signing, if his presence was indeed a symbolic metaphor.

A cat representing Danny's guardian angel or something of that nature. My answer remains the same...

the cat from "South of Charm" is content being whatever, or whomever you've decided upon for him. And if any of us should happen to cross his path, we should be so lucky."

Mesmer nodded sagely, then glared at the couple approaching our table and muttered. Seeing as how there is a mixed audience, I will defer translating.

I looked up and smiled. The ghosts of Samuel Clemens and Edna St. Vincent Millay. Sammy, whom the world remembers as Mark Twain, glared at Mesmer.

"You danged polecat. You told them about Captain Sam didn't you?"

Mesmer chuckled evilly. Edna patted Sammy's arm. "Was not this outing to raise my spirits, pun intended?"

"Sorry, my dear. That vixen just lives to rile me!"

Showing all the tact of a stick in the eye, he turned to her. "Yes, Edna. I should live by the wisdom of your poem found by your dead body at the foot of the stairs. What did it say?

I will control myself, or go inside.
I will not flaw perfection with my grief.
Handsome, this day: no matter who has died."

Edna flinched as if pinched, but Elliot seeing it, rose and took her hand gently. "Your biographers do not do your beauty justice by half."

She patted his face, sitting down close to him, flicking eyes to Sammy. "As eloquent with words outside your novel as well as within. I have a question."

"Y-You read my book?"

She smiled like the Sphinx. "How else could I have a question, you handsome young man?"

As Sammy jealously settled himself equally as close to Edna, she asked, "During the age of Katniss Everdeen and Laura Croft, female heroines standing atop the entertainment world, why take a chance on a ten year old boy?"

Elliot did a valiant attempt at ignoring Samuel Clemens' jealous glare. "The answer can be found in the question...at some point, Suzanne Collins gambled on a young lady from the woods named Katniss. A girl with a bow and the heart of a lion.

And the world took notice. Danny Kaufman is my gamble. A likable kid from the countryside with a story to tell. Hoping to be heard."

Sammy grumbled, "I never heard of this Kaufman kid. Who is he?"

Elliot smiled, "Danny's a ten year old boy of average build. Unlike those super heroes from Marvel Comics, he's unable to turn invisible. He can't fly or divert a bullet's mid-air trajectory.

He'd find it nearly impossible to launch frozen pellets from his fingertips without an ice tray placed conveniently nearby. And if asked to run a mile in under a minute, he'd perhaps give it a go, but with the odds of success not in his favor.

Danny Kaufman is that boy you've no doubt passed on a street corner without offering more than a glance in his direction. He was likely concentrating on the cracked pavement under his sneakers.

Perhaps massaging his pitcher's elbow. Thinking of some way to repair a family in shambles, without any special powers other than a fastball deemed impossible to hit by his peers, and the courage of a child."

Samuel Clemens looked at Elliot with a re-appraising look. "Sounds like he could be friends with my Huck Finn."

Edna patted Elliots hand. "Do not mind Clemens. He got his education in the wilds of Missouri, his business methods in Siberia, his behaviour in vaudeville, and his brains in a raffle."

Elliot shook his head, laughing, "You wouldn't tease him so if you weren't fond of him."

As Sammy brightened up, Edna fought a smile, losing, "Pairing with him would be a mistake. But I am glad that I paid so little attention to good advice.

Had I abided by it, I might have been saved from some of my most valuable mistakes.”

Mesmer suddenly hissed, bucked her back, then leapt to the table in front of Elliot as a voice like the tolling of ghost bells in Hell mocked,

"Mesmer, you possess too little real power to stop me."

A tall man in gray Armani, with living shadows making love to his frame, stood facing us. DayStar. He believed himself Lucifer ...

and had the sheer power to convince many of his delusion. If delusion it was.

Words like Texas thunder rumbled behind Elliot. "Your party favors slowed me down, DayStar. They didn't stop me."

McCord's Stetson was gone. His black clothing torn, even his gloves. But he merely smiled like the last wolf he was. "Don't bother punishing them. They're past feeling it."

DayStar shrugged. "I had hoped they would slow you longer. But no matter. I have a grievance with Grace here."

Elliot, pale but still sitting tall, frowned, "What have I done to you?"

DayStar's smile flashed like a knife from the shadows. "Your foster children. I almost had them."

Groans of tortured pain came soft and deadly from the mists behind him. "I will yet."

Behind Elliot's eyes, smoky danger like the burnished steel of a saber flashed, "Never!"

DayStar laughed like the breaking of brittle bones. "And just how will you stop me, homo sapien?"

Elliot stood from his chair. "My wife and I will wrap such strong arms of love around our children that you will never pry them from that love into your kingdom. Never!"

DayStar looked for a long moment into Elliot's defiant eyes, then murmured. "Another time."

And like a card, his body folded, spindled, then turned sideways, disappearing completely.

McCord squeezed Elliot's shoulder. "Should have known Roland would pick a man with grit for a friend."

Mesmer yowled, then thumped off the table, rushing off into the darkness.

Sammy snickered, "She said she had to go to the Little Kitty's Room."

***

HIBBS : MISS OLIVIA, I'LL BE THERE, BUT FIRST I HAVE TO SEE HARRY POTTER

Hibbs, the cub with no clue -- and no breath, here!

Huff. Pant. Gasp. All this running is wearing me out!

Miss Olivia, I'll be there. Don't you worry! http://thatrebelwithablog.blogspot.com/

But first, I want to read Mr. Roland's entry into Mr. Michael's HARRY POTTER BEST MATE blogfest : http://writing-art-and-design.blogspot.com/2011/03/harry-potter-blogfest-who-would-be-your.html

{From the journal of Captain Samuel McCord} :

I walked through the mirror into Dumbledore's office. The scent to the air was of cherry blossoms. I smiled bitterly. It was the perfume of my wife, Meilori. He was trying to make me feel welcome and only managing to make me feel more alone.

Poor Albus. He was so wise in so many things ...

just not in matters of the heart.

Which explained his being fooled by Gellert Grindelwald.

I made my way through the maze of spindly tables upon which sat delicate looking silver instruments that whirred and emitted small puffs of smoke, as well as an incredible collection of books, which made up Dumbledore's private library, and his ill-advised Pensieve.

Fawkes the phoenix chirped my way. I winked back. The Sorting Hat chuckled. I grinned back.

Albus smiled as if it hurt him. "Come sit down, Samuel."

He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, and a purple cloak.

His nose was very long and crooked. Being broken will do that to a nose. The first break came from Gellert's fist. The second came from mine in the fight that broke out when I told him the truth about Gellert.

He forgave me. Friends do that. Even to friends who speak painful truths.

As I sat down at his round desk, I pointed to his withered right hand. "Voldemort?"

He shook his head. "I myself have opened the door to the next great adventure I'm afraid."

I started to reach for his gnarled right hand. "Maybe I can ...."

A voice with all the warmth of a slap said to my left, "Do what the world's mightiest wizard could not do? Hardly!"

I turned. Serverus Snape. He gloomed a room just by entering it.

I smiled crooked. "Still wearing the cast-off's from THE ADAMS FAMILY movie I see. Angelica Huston looked better in that dress."

His right eyebrow arched so high that I was surprised it didn't cut his forehead. "How droll. Low humor from a muggle. How unsurprising."

I wagged a gloved forefinger at him. "You know you like me."

Snape looked as if he smelled his own upper lip. "Me? A friend to a muggle?"

Albus' blue eyes twinkled. "You will note that he did not deny it."

He pointed to the empty seat at the other side of the table. "Come, Serverus. Samuel promised to teach us that colorfully named game. Ah, what was it now?"

The blood of the Angel of Death burned cold in my veins as it murmured I would never see either one of them alive again. I managed a smile.

"Texas Hold 'Em."

Snape sniffed the air touched with the kiss of cherry blossoms and looked at me with haunted eyes.

"You still love her though she deserted you? After all this time?"

I nodded, and though we both saw different faces, we both said the same word,

"Always."

Albus' eyes grew wet as he looked at the two of us. "I, as well."

And so three friends drawn together by broken hearts and lost love dealt meaningless cards to one another into the dregs of the hollow night.

***

HIBBS : HOLD ON, MR. ELLIOT! DON'T START WITHOUT ME!

Hibbs, the cub with no clue, here!

Pant. Pant.

Hold on, Mr. Elliot!

I'm coming just as fast as my paws will carry me. Don't start without me!

Where's Little Brother when you need him?

Oh, well, follow me to Mr. Elliot's place. It's gonna be such fun. He's got really great questions. : ***http://elliot-grace.blogspot.com/2011/03/chat-with-hibbs.html
***

THE TURQUOISE WOMAN BEAT ME TO IT

I woke up this morning feeling like I was a horse that had been rode hard and left wet!

The coughing wouldn't let me be, echoes of that pneumonia that had tried to take me way back in that ice-bound Detroit basement apartment.

So I fed Gypsy, my cat, wearing her surgical mask to keep my germs to myself. I sat down at my laptop to see what mischief I could find on the web.

Then, I found Jules had written a lovely post about THE BEAR WITH TWO SHADOWS :
http://fragilemouse.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-got-bear-to-pick-with-you.html#more

Summer Ross was the next one I visited to find this :
http://summersvoice.blogspot.com/

I next checked up on my friend, Olivia Herrell :
http://thatrebelwithablog.blogspot.com/2011/02/bear-with-two-shadows.html

Jessica Bell next made my morning so much brighter despite the coughing :
http://thealliterativeallomorph.blogspot.com/2011/02/there-are-certain-ways-of-marketing.html

Nicole Ducleroir was the next friend who became a crusader for me :
http://nicoleducleroir.blogspot.com/

All this after, Elliot Grace had my back like a Texas Ranger of old with his post :
http://elliot-grace.blogspot.com/2011/02/rolands-two-shadows.html

And after WordsCrafter gave me a shout-out a few days ago :
http://therainydaywanderer.blogspot.com/

For once, I was at a loss for words. Gypsy fell over in a dead faint : me being speechless doesn't happen all that often. LOL.

I, alone, am left of my childhood LEAGUE OF FIVE. No family survives. Those close to me from childhood and loves have all been taken before their time.

Like a lone turret of a sand castle, looking at the ruins of sand left by the sweeping tides, I sometimes feel quite alone.

My friends, Elliot, Jules, Summer, Olivia, Nicole, WordsCrafter, and Michael (who, even now labors to remove the flaws from my book's format and is the genius behind the design of my book) -- you have reminded me that he who has friends is never alone and is far richer than Midas ever thought of being.

Thank you. Estanatlehi blows you a kiss. Hibbs chuffs a smile your way, too.

- a very moved Roland