The Seidr Cycle Book Tour & Giveaway

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Dolor and Shadow

The Seidr Cycle Book 1

by Angela B. Chrysler

Genre: High Epic Fantasy

A great power has awakened within Princess Kallan.

To keep the princess hidden, she is taken to Alfheim; her abilities suppressed and her memory erased.

Years later, Kallan inherits her father’s war, and vows revenge on the one man she believes is responsible: Rune, King of Gunir. But soon, a twist of fate puts Kallan in protection of the man she has sworn to kill, and Rune in possession of powers he does not understand.

Lost in the world of Men, the two must form an unlikely alliance to make their way home and solve the mystery of their past – and of the Shadow that hunts them both.

Praise for Dolor and Shadow:

“…a sweeping, epic novel… highly recommend it to all fantasy lovers.” – Erin S. Riley, author of Odin’s Shadow

“Angela B. Chrysler has brought world building to breathtaking heights with ‘Dolor and Shadow’” – Jay Norry, Amazon Review

“This is book one in a set that has the potential to become timeless” – Timothy Bateson, Amazon Review

Goodreads * Amazon

Fire and Lies

The Seidr Cycle Book 2

War rips across the land of Alfheim.

As the Fae gods draw near, Queen Kallan’s strength is tested.

She follows King Rune, but the Shadow Beast caged within Rune’s body is writhing in hunger. Kallan’s newest companion, Bergen – the legendary Berserk – is determined to end the conflict in her life.

As the three come together, the truth buried in the past resurfaces. Now, Kallan must master a dormant power… or watch her kingdom fall to the Fae, who will stop at nothing to keep their lies.

Goodreads * Amazon

Angela B. Chrysler is a writer, logician, philosopher, and die-hard nerd who studies theology, historical linguistics, music composition, and medieval European history in New York with a dry sense of humor and an unusual sense of sarcasm. She lives in a garden with her family and cats.

In 2014, Ms. Chrysler founded Brain to Books and the virtual trade show, Brain to Books Cyber Convention. A passionate gardener and incurable cat lover, Ms. Chrysler spends her days drinking coffee and writing beside a volume of Edgar Allan Poe who strongly influences her style to this day. When Ms. Chrysler is not writing, she enables her addictions to all things nerdy, and reads everything she can get her hands on no matter the genre. Occasionally, she finds time to mother her three children and debate with her life-long friend who she eventually married. Her writing is often compared to Tad Williams. Her influences are Edgar Allan Poe, The Phantom of the Opera, and Frankenstein.

Angela also loves writing, cats, reading, knitting, gardening, Tai Chi, Yoga, meditation, coffee, BBC, baking, cooking, dancing, singing, anime, and smiling.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Google+ * Amazon * Goodreads

At the farthest ends of Midgard, where Alfheim begins, the Fae goddess Fand gazed upon
Kallan’s fair city. Lorlenalin. The White Opal. The Dokkalfar citadel. Humming a ditty, she
collected her skirts and idly glided through the wood surrounding the city.
Like threads of gold, Seidr flowed from the tips of Fand’s fingers. It flowed down her
gown and branched across the first autumn frost glistening in the moonlight as if the Fae gods
themselves had emerged from Under Earth and touched down on the lands of Midgard. Like
veins, the Seidr webbed a path to the city. The life she found there was strong, but hollow with
grief for their missing queen. Fand called the Seidr back, and she smiled. Memories of the dead
never survive the ages. It was only a matter of time before the Dokkalfar forgot their precious
queen.
“This won’t be too hard.”
Fand took a step and strips of leather wove themselves around her bare foot. By the time
she took a second step, she wore a pair of fine leather boots. Her gowns of Under Earth
reknitted
themselves into something simpler, but just as suggestive. Just as inviting. The gems she
wore to ordain her bodice became grains of golden sand that vanished with the wind. Her
cheekbones rounded out. Her pearlescent skin darkened to look more like a daughter of Alfheim
than the pale, jeweled complexion of a Fae goddess of Eire’s Land.
Fand pushed a hand through her raven black hair, sending strands of Seidr streaking the
black and changing it to a pale blond by the time her fingers reached the tips.
By the time Fand stepped into a beam of moonlight where the Dokkalfar guards could see
her, all that remained of her original appearance was the stunning rings of gold Seidr that
encircled her pupils and the mesmermizing smile that arched her red lips.
By dawn, only two would remember the name of Kallan, Daughter of Eyolf, Queen and
Lady of Lorlenalin.