The Peradon Fantasy Series
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Publisher: Buchelli Books
Date of Publication: 30th April 2017
ISBN: 9780995768307 print
ISBN: 9780995768314 eBook
Number of pages: 396
Word Count: 100,980
Cover Artist: T.L. Mason
Tagline: 'You're only a prisoner if you believe you are.'
'You're only a prisoner if you believe you are.'
No power is greater than the one youâre willing to sacrifice. Princess Violetta Flame lives her life according to rule, but those rules require her to pay a heavy price. Haunted by a devastating loss, she longs for freedom. When a handsome ruler takes a special interest in her, she senses greater things lie ahead, but behind the handsome faÃ§ade lies a dark secret â one that can usurp her efforts and cast her back into the life she detested. The throne was never promised to Emperor Ryore Frost, but now that he has ultimate power, his world is filled with possibilities. Citizens bow at his feet, but their fleeting adoration is no match for his obsession with the young Flame Princess. As his feelings for the staunchly independent princess grow, a new threat emerges, bent on undermining his efforts and betraying his sensibilities. When past tragedies, malevolent behaviour, and strong wills collide, which will reign supreme?
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/Gh3dyddZCDw
'Darius, can you feel that?'
A tingling sensation seeped into her bones. It pulsed through her, prickling the hairs on the back of her neck.
'Darius, something feels wrong.'
Violetta turned and was surprised to find Darius facing away. His tall frame appeared to have frozen beside her much loved tree, his face turned up toward the sky.
'Brother? What's wrong? Tell me.'
Violetta followed her brother's gaze.
Darkness stole over her. Violetta could see the storm a mile off and it showed no signs of letting up. She flinched as she felt something hit her face. Water? Darius began to stir, but Violetta's eyes remained fixed on the sky. She had heard of rain. It was said that the Air Realm was frequently visited by such cool showers, but never had she heard of a storm in the Flame Realm. At least, not since the Almighty Storm of the Ancients.
Violetta felt her courage flee her. She let out a high-pitched squeal; a reaction to the hands that had forced themselves around her arms.
'Shh, it's just me.' Darius stroked the golden waves of her hair. 'We must get inside. Understand?'
Violetta gazed into her brother's dark eyes. She nodded.
'Good, we haven't got long before the storm hits.'
Violetta dove toward Jork's ball. She trapped it between her wrinkled skirts, gathering it up in her slender arms. The rain gathered speed.
'Darius, I've got it!' she squealed. Silence greeted her. 'Darius? Where are you?'
Violetta could hear raised voices in the distance. They were muffled, likely from inside the secret passage they had used to get down here.
'Darius?' She spotted a limp shape stretched across the lap of her tree. 'DARIUS!'
Something struck Violetta hard in the shoulder, lifting her clean off the ground. Her mouth formed a silent scream as she flew through the air, clinging tight to Jork's ball. To Violetta's surprise, she landed on her feet.
Violetta's vision swam, her shoulder screaming in agony at a chunk of ice that had pierced the flesh. She glanced about, searching for Darius when something else zipped past her ear. Violetta tried to put thoughts of the pain aside. She gazed above her, where the sky had become a blinding white.
Violetta's fingernails dug into her ball and the agony she felt appeared to diminish. Her eyes snapped down to her shoulder, which only moments ago had been spiking with pain.
'That's not possible,' she gasped.
Violetta's skin was pale and smooth, not a cut or scratch anywhere in sight. Her eyes wandered down to Jork's ball, before flocking back to the pale skies above. This had to be a dream. The sky here wasn't white. It was a bright and beauteous blue, always.
Remembering how Darius had been struck, Violetta returned her gaze to her tree.
Her legs carried her over to him, aching with the sudden chill. Violetta was unsure of what she was going to find. She drew close and saw the tree's tangled roots embracing Darius. His mop of dark hair was slick with the rain, his eyes only just glazing over.
Violetta knelt down and gasped at the sight of her brother's chest. A large needle of ice had speared his flesh, spilling ruby liquid around its edges. A banshee's wail exploded from her.
All sound escaped Violetta's world. The edges of her vision darkened, leaving her only with eyes for her brother.
'Good Lord, Prince Darius!'
Clarisse's harsh voice cut through the silence. The elderly nursemaid sprinted past, her cold stare fixed on the limp form of their Realm's heir. She bent down to examine the prince's wounds, shooting an angry scowl Violetta's way.
'Just what did you think you were doing?' she snarled.
The veins in her forehead began to rise, as though attempting to escape from their fleshy prison.
Violetta's face was devoid of emotion. She could do little more than stare when a startled scream sounded nearby.
'Mother?' Violetta got back to her feet. 'Mother, ice is coming down from the sky. We must go. Darius said-'
Violetta locked eyes with her parent. Tears ran afresh down Queen Isobel's face as she raced through the rain to reach her child. Her golden curls, which were usually pinned atop her head, now hung loose and trailed limply down her back.
No-one noticed the shards of ice soaring past. Violetta wanted to run. She wanted to warn her mother before it was too late, but her body felt like it had frozen in place. She strained against her fear with all her might.
'Mother, we must go! Now!'
The queen darted across to the great oak tree. She scooped up the body of her only son, wailing against his dark mop of hair.
The despair in her voice matched the feelings that stirred within Violetta.
Queen Isobel refused to part from her son. He lay there, still as stone, his flesh growing colder by the moment. Violetta would remember this day for the rest of her life. She clung tight to Jork's gift and prepared to race, to grasp hold of her mother, when another shard shot out of the darkness. A struggling scream filled the air. It was a scream that would haunt her forever.
About the Author:
Born in 1993, British writer Daccari Buchelli spends his time focusing on his favourite genre, Fantasy. Having developed an early love of literature, he became determined to create his own magical wonderlands for fellow readers to explore. He spent his teenage years working on several Fantasy novellas, which he has yet to release to the general public.
He has since released the first book in a new Fantasy series, which revolves around young royals and the elemental magic that they possess.
As an active member of the LGBT+ community, Mr Buchelli hopes to help reduce intolerance and bullying by promoting acceptance and understanding of those different to ourselves.
Leave a Reply.