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The Shadow City
Hunters of Infinity #2
by Ryan Wieser
Genre: Sci-Fi/Space Opera
Pub Date: 10/16/18
The Hunters of Infinity have guarded the Daharian galaxy for ages, but
when betrayed, they can become a vicious enemy . . .
Jessop, the first woman to join the Hunters, has finally
been reunited with
those who mean the most to her. In her quest for vengeance, she has
left many embittered and betrayed, chief among them Kohl O’Hanlon,
the Hunter who once loved her.
Now, as the feared
Falco Bane leads his forces into the Hunters’
territory, Kohl attempts to retaliate, flooding their infamous Shadow
City with his own followers. Jessop must fight a war on two fronts,
testing her commitment to the ones she loves and challenging her
abilities as the most elite warrior among the Hunters. With the
future of Daharia’s leadership at stake, Jessop is determined to
protect those closest to her at all costs . But when allies turn into
adversaries, the real threat comes from a place least expected . . .
Falco Bane leads his forces into the Hunters’
territory, Kohl attempts to retaliate, flooding their infamous Shadow
City with his own followers. Jessop must fight a war on two fronts,
testing her commitment to the ones she loves and challenging her
abilities as the most elite warrior among the Hunters. With the
future of Daharia’s leadership at stake, Jessop is determined to
protect those closest to her at all costs . But when allies turn into
adversaries, the real threat comes from a place least expected . . .
Goodreads
The Glass Blade
Hunters of Infinity
#1
#1
The Hunters of Infinity have been protecting the Daharian
galaxy for
years, but there has never been a female Hunter—until now.
In a seedy bar in the shadowy corners of Daharia, Jessop comes to
the
rescue of young Hunter Kohl O’Hanlon. Impressed by her remarkable
sword-wielding skills, the Hunters invite her to their training
facility, the Glass Blade, though not all are pleased with the
intrusion. But they soon discover that Jessop learned to fight from
the rogue leader of the Shadow City of Aranthol—and
escaped.
Now they want to use her intimate knowledge of their enemy to destroy
him.
As Jessop grows closer to this elite brotherhood, their leader
succumbs
to a mysterious ailment, and Kohl learns that Jessop is hiding dark
secrets, raising suspicions about the enigmatic woman who saved his
life. Has the Hunters’ security been breached—or do they have a
traitor in their ranks?
Allegiances will be questioned.
Loyalties will be betrayed.
Vengeance will be brutal.
galaxy for
years, but there has never been a female Hunter—until now.
In a seedy bar in the shadowy corners of Daharia, Jessop comes to
the
rescue of young Hunter Kohl O’Hanlon. Impressed by her remarkable
sword-wielding skills, the Hunters invite her to their training
facility, the Glass Blade, though not all are pleased with the
intrusion. But they soon discover that Jessop learned to fight from
the rogue leader of the Shadow City of Aranthol—and
escaped.
Now they want to use her intimate knowledge of their enemy to destroy
him.
As Jessop grows closer to this elite brotherhood, their leader
succumbs
to a mysterious ailment, and Kohl learns that Jessop is hiding dark
secrets, raising suspicions about the enigmatic woman who saved his
life. Has the Hunters’ security been breached—or do they have a
traitor in their ranks?
Allegiances will be questioned.
Loyalties will be betrayed.
Vengeance will be brutal.
“This thrilling, action-packed debut ties together a strong characters
with
a building story line that will have readers clamoring for the next
volume in this new series.”
—
Library Journal, STARRED REVIEW, on The Glass Blade
Library Journal, STARRED REVIEW, on The Glass Blade
Ryan Wieser completed her B.A. in Sociology and Socio-Legal
Studies before going on to complete her MSc. in Experimental
Psychology. Having been raised in Africa and educated across multiple
countries, Ryan has a passion for travel and an interest in diverse
cultures. She currently resides in Wyoming with her husband, where
she is writing her next book.
The tavern was dark and quiet, barring the muted voices that filled the corners with whispers of
quiet corruption and deceit. Hushed sounds traveled on thick smoke to the ceiling and her eyes trailed
over the dimly lit corners and over the musty cloaked patrons. Dirty exchanges took place everywhere,
too-young girls being offered coins and despair by corrupt travelers, whose lies traveled like fire across
the alcohol on their lips. This wasn’t a typical bar, this dark, underground dwelling in the heart of Azgul
where there were more shadows than light, more smoke than air. It was a seedy, unsafe locale where
illegal exchanges could occur. A place favored by those in the city’s most important positions, for in this
underground dwelling they could act as they truly wished.
From where she sat, with her cloak draped low over her face, she could easily make out the
group of Aren. They were more discreet than she had anticipated, but few could go unseen to her well-
trained eyes. They were scattered about the bar, donning the civilian attire of common Azgul nomad
passer-by. The Aren weren’t common travelers though; they were fatalistic believers who waited
anxiously for a supposed impending end. A doom and darkness that would swallow the entire Daharian
galaxy whole—their belief in some unimagined state of horror for the universe made her certain that
not a man amongst them had ever laid eyes on Aranthol.
She scanned the room, counting twelve of the zealots. Without their robes they appeared as
normal men, barring their brand, which could be seen on the base of several of their necks. The tender
nape of the neck was where all in Azgul had their brands. She knew that their mark was not well-known
though, not as well-known as they would have liked it to be. Thinking of the brandings nearly had Jessop
reaching for her own neck, certain she could almost feel the hot iron against her still. The smell of
burning, blistering flesh unnaturally recoiling from heated metal filled her nostrils. She shivered at the
putrid memory and forced it back to the depths of her mind, where she kept all her locked-away
thoughts and all her darkness.
Suddenly, the oddest sensation roused her, overcoming her senses. She could feel silk running
across her skin, dragging her fine hairs on end, exciting her cells. The energy of the room had completely
changed, thickening the air more than any smoke or liquor could do. She had only ever been around one
other of her kind, and to feel the changing electromagnetic charge in the room without him present was
as compelling to her as it was terrifying. The draw was a beast’s cry calling her in, feeding her need to
find the one like her. It was a pull strong enough to grip her, strong enough to shoot adrenaline through
her, to dilate her pupils and ready her muscles and tell her, without question, that Hunters were near.
She closed her eyes and narrowed in on their presence. She could smell the faintest scent of
grease on one of them; it had an acidic air to it—like the oil slick found in the Western corner of the city.
She could hear his voice though he did not speak. She could see the diminutive smudge of black slick
over his boot though she did not open her eyes. Her senses—so refined—ensured she could see most of
him without ever glancing his way.
And then she laid eyes on him.
quiet corruption and deceit. Hushed sounds traveled on thick smoke to the ceiling and her eyes trailed
over the dimly lit corners and over the musty cloaked patrons. Dirty exchanges took place everywhere,
too-young girls being offered coins and despair by corrupt travelers, whose lies traveled like fire across
the alcohol on their lips. This wasn’t a typical bar, this dark, underground dwelling in the heart of Azgul
where there were more shadows than light, more smoke than air. It was a seedy, unsafe locale where
illegal exchanges could occur. A place favored by those in the city’s most important positions, for in this
underground dwelling they could act as they truly wished.
From where she sat, with her cloak draped low over her face, she could easily make out the
group of Aren. They were more discreet than she had anticipated, but few could go unseen to her well-
trained eyes. They were scattered about the bar, donning the civilian attire of common Azgul nomad
passer-by. The Aren weren’t common travelers though; they were fatalistic believers who waited
anxiously for a supposed impending end. A doom and darkness that would swallow the entire Daharian
galaxy whole—their belief in some unimagined state of horror for the universe made her certain that
not a man amongst them had ever laid eyes on Aranthol.
She scanned the room, counting twelve of the zealots. Without their robes they appeared as
normal men, barring their brand, which could be seen on the base of several of their necks. The tender
nape of the neck was where all in Azgul had their brands. She knew that their mark was not well-known
though, not as well-known as they would have liked it to be. Thinking of the brandings nearly had Jessop
reaching for her own neck, certain she could almost feel the hot iron against her still. The smell of
burning, blistering flesh unnaturally recoiling from heated metal filled her nostrils. She shivered at the
putrid memory and forced it back to the depths of her mind, where she kept all her locked-away
thoughts and all her darkness.
Suddenly, the oddest sensation roused her, overcoming her senses. She could feel silk running
across her skin, dragging her fine hairs on end, exciting her cells. The energy of the room had completely
changed, thickening the air more than any smoke or liquor could do. She had only ever been around one
other of her kind, and to feel the changing electromagnetic charge in the room without him present was
as compelling to her as it was terrifying. The draw was a beast’s cry calling her in, feeding her need to
find the one like her. It was a pull strong enough to grip her, strong enough to shoot adrenaline through
her, to dilate her pupils and ready her muscles and tell her, without question, that Hunters were near.
She closed her eyes and narrowed in on their presence. She could smell the faintest scent of
grease on one of them; it had an acidic air to it—like the oil slick found in the Western corner of the city.
She could hear his voice though he did not speak. She could see the diminutive smudge of black slick
over his boot though she did not open her eyes. Her senses—so refined—ensured she could see most of
him without ever glancing his way.
And then she laid eyes on him.
Great cover – I’m really loving the art!