Check out PLMII’s full review below @ bookspotcentral.com

PLMII’s Inside Indie Press “Night of Wolves”

Phillip will be in attendance Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. He will be located at Table #7-123.

Here is the most updated list of the FSC Writer’s Track – 2013 panels that he will be in attendance at. Writer’s who have previously attended PLMII’s panels have moved on to great success within their own writing. An attendee from his panels at FSC 2012, is now published and sitting with him on panels this year.  PLMII prides himself on guiding new writers down the right path and helping new authors avoid the pitfalls of publishing and writing.

Space will be limited and quickly does fill up. PLMII’s last writing panel @ Megacon 2012 had over “250”writing enthusiasts in attendance. The author was completely sold out of “Signed” books onsite soon after his panel. If you are looking to get a book signed by the author please do so right after any of his panels.    

Friday July 5th @ 11:30 AM – MACC 104

Writers: From Idea to Distribution

Join Terry Cronin (author and independent comic book publisher), Aya Knight (author) and Phil McCall II (author) for a talk about the process of writing a novel, getting it published and distribution via bookstores and online booksellers

Friday July 5^th @ 2:15 PM – MACC 102

Writers: Creating Memorable Characters

Join authors Philip McCall II, J.D. Netto and Laura Diaz  for a talk about creating and believable and memorable characters for your writing.

Saturday July 6th @ 1:00 PM - MACC 112 

Writers: World Building for Your Novel

Join authors Philip McCall II, J.D. Netto and Laura Diaz for a talk about creating and building your fictional world for your writing.

Sunday July 7th @ 3:30 PM – MACC102

Writers: Genre Fiction Writing

Join authors Philip McCall II, J.D. Netto and Laura Diaz for a talk about writing fiction in various Genres (Fantasy, Detective, SteamPunk, Sci-Fi and Paranormal).

PLMII will be a guest @ FSC 2013 – http://www.floridasupercon.com/

They have a great guest list this year and PLMII will be hosting several Writing Panels as well.

See you there!

The story opens in London during the height of Jack the Ripper’s rampage in Whitechapel. To stop the killings, which involve her family, The Queen of England summoned a trusted friend known for dealing with such incursions, Dr. Daedalus.  As one assigned the task of maintaining order and balance between our world and that of the supernatural, or Veiled, Dr. Daedalus begins his search for the creature responsible for the killings. Upon finding him, he learns of a greater evil long thought dead that threatens both England and France. To hunt down the new monster , he must first enlist the help of a woman facing death for a list of crimes so long and heinous she’s been condemned to die by two governments.

One of the things that stuck out to me was the liberal use of various characters from history and mythology. Characters and people like Varney the Vampire and Nicolas Flemal and his Philosopher’s Stone gave the story a comfortability for me and helped to pull me in. Even the main character, Dr. Daedalus, should be familiar to history/mythology fans.

My only issue is I would’ve liked to see the story become deeper. While a quick read, I wouldn’t mind it being a four hundred page novel, but that’s my own feeling. All in all, I really enjoyed it and recommend it for any fantasy fan looking for a new take on the genre.

Original post located below:

http://cpbialois.wordpress.com/2013/04/26/in-the-books-featuring-dr-daedalus-the-devils-army-by-philip-mccall-ii/

In this episode we find out the fate of Jaime who lost his hand at the end of last episode. Meanwhile, in King’s Landing, King Joffrey, I believe is finally sowing the seeds of his own destruction. Lord Varys finally shows some muscle and the extent of his power and that he is far more dangerous than many know. Yet the whole episode is rocked when Daenerys claims her army and slays those who sought to take her for a fool. The last part of this episode was just earthshaking and right on point with the character of Daenarys. I will take this victory for her with a sigh of relief but know that somehow she will pay for this day as all do in the GoT universe.

Author’s Note: I wanted to write a story with no dialogue and pay homage to Peter Beagle, author of ”The last Unicorn”. I had the privilege to meet Mr. Beagle many years later and  I shared with him my writings, including this story. He loved this particular piece of all my writings. Mr. Beagle, told me that I had created my own memorable tale of a Unicorn, one he had enjoyed very much.   

The moon’s light poured gently through the forest canopy, as the animals of the forest crept about. The predators of the forest listened to the wind for the slightest movement, while the prey held its breath avoiding detection. A game of silence and death played its continuous cycle amongst the ancient oaks. Suddenly without warning, the winds foretold of danger, the forest now no longer safe, sanctuary sullied. The hunt of the unicorn had begun.

The queen of the forest smelled them on the wind, heard their voices echoing in the cold night air. The invisible hands of fear touched her spine sending chills throughout her body, her muscles tensed instinctively and her nostrils snorted in the fine mist. The unicorn’s eyes searched the trees for the intruders; she must know what shape death might chose to hunt her this night. The animals of the forest scurried, darting for cover, while the unicorn galloped off to a nearby hill to see her enemy.

Four humanoid shapes crept through the trees. They carried no torches but she could see their red eyes glowing in the darkness. She recognized the goblins by their scent as they entered the forest. Their dark intentions hung about their heads like ill-fitting, rotting skins. They wished to kill her and take her horn.

They would have to catch her first. She reared up, bayed, and called them to the chase.

The vile creatures grunted and ran in pursuit of the fleeing unicorn. Arrows rained within the canopy of shadowed green; swiftly the prey avoided their deadly touch. She could feel the wind dance rhythmically through her silken mane. Hooves clicked sharply in the shadows as she quickly darted across a small forest path. The screams of the goblins sang of frustration and the willingness to continue the chase.

The ancient oaks watched in horror as the goblins pursued the unicorn with a thirst for blood unmatched by any forest predator. Death laughed on the wind, as it blew through the trees. The unicorn shot through the forest on fiery hooves, like a comet. The hunters continued their grueling pace, firing arrows at the magical beast, taunting each other as they missed. None of the shards of death seemed to find their mark, but the hunt continued. She felt the burning in her lungs and the chill of cold sweat line her body. Halting to gain her bearings, she noticed the goblins had come over a nearby hill. They grunted and motioned to her, thinking they had cornered their quarry. They wore their false pride like bright tin armor. Once more, the unicorn reared defiant and proud. The sound of fired bows rang out, but the arrows struck only the ground where the magical beast had last stood.

Storm clouds gathered, dousing the moon’s light and rumbled like war drums in the sky. Lightning struck a worn dead tree, bursting it into flames. The air grew hot and moist, announced the rain would soon come. Still the unicorn ran on the thrill of the pursuit coursed like raw fire through her veins. The hunters pace had slowed as they gasped for air and rubbed sore muscles. In anger, they looked about for their prey. The goblins examined the dark forest surroundings.

A primordial dance had begun, as the treetops swayed in unison under the weight of the growing winds. Some of the goblins announced their desire to end the futile hunt, while the majority silenced their cries and moved on.

The unicorn watched their movements from a small ledge, covered in wild grass and flowers. They had almost given up, but their evil goal had goaded them to continue. The goblins followed her tracks hoping to catch a glimpse of her. She was tired and knew if the goblins continued the hunt, sunlight would never frolic in her mane again. The unicorn felt old and a bit worn, but she would not let death take her so easily. She reared up, mocked her hunters and death, as the arrows tore through the turbulent wind. One of the arrows almost found its deadly mark. The unicorn snorted in disbelief and sprinted off. The goblins screamed as they chased her.

Fear crept like an unwelcome guest into her heart. She felt the cold touch of death reach for her once more. She galloped faster through the lush forest, and outrun fear to leave it behind in the dark. In the sky, dark clouds churned and rumbled like a witch’s brew. Soon the spell of rain would be completed and fall upon the earth. The goblins continued their chase, sensing the unicorn’s fear. This could mean only one thing she was beginning to tire. They would have their prize soon if they did not give up. One of the vile creatures blew a horn to raise the moral of his fellow hunters. The goblin bows sang again, the shafts took flight still unable to deliver death to their prey.

The moon fought in vain to pierce the dark clouds, under the violent ebony sky blanket. The hunt continued, prey running with death just upon its heels. The forest animals could not help but watch the mad race go on. They felt pain for the unicorn, which had protected them so long. Tonight they lay hidden unmarked by death, only the queen of the forest was and in a way, they were thankful. Somewhere in their minds they knew, her sacrifice would save so much more.

How free she felt as the midnight air, raced upon her body as she ran. The energy of youth was returning to her old body, she knew this might be the last hunt. The unicorn snorted the thought away; the goblins would have to kill her first. She slowed to a trot and looked back down the hill; the goblins struggled to keep up. Their screams came between their gasps for air, and the futile attempts to fire arrows upon her. The unicorn knew just over the hill lay her salvation. Many moons ago an old tree had fallen across a gorge, creating a natural bridge. She planned to cross the log. Then kick the old fallen tree into the deep ravine below. The goblins would have no way across. They would have to head back to find a way across, by then she would be far from their clutches. The rain began to fall in waves from the sky, the unicorn bolted up the hill.

The goblins clamored upon the hill. They spotted the unicorn as she headed for the gorge. They could see a tree stretched across it, and one of them screamed to fire their bows. Arrows took flight but the unicorn was too fast. The old tree lay just ahead and the unicorn summoned all her strength to dash across. The sky above shook in anger and a bolt of lightning shot out of the heavens. The fallen tree could not handle the lightning strike; it began to snap in half. The unicorn reared up and bayed in fright, regained her wits, leaped back to the hill and the waiting goblins. There was no way out now, the bloodthirsty goblins stood bows notched. The unicorn reared in defiance, and in the sky, lightning flashed lighting the forest for all to see death standing upon the hill. Arrows zipped through the rain as the unicorn charged the goblins.

Death embraced the queen of the forest, as her body fell to the ground. The unicorn could hear the goblins scream for joy, as death’s cold grasp pulled her slowly away. She would run now with the herd across the sky. Like all of her kind she knew, one day she would not get away. The goblins could have her horn; her passing has saved so much more.

The morning sun chased the storm clouds away, shining upon the animals of the forest gathered around their fallen queen. Predator and prey sat together mourning the passage of their monarch.

Suddenly a white form burst from nearby brush, sending the animals scattering. A young unicorn trotted up to the fallen queen, her mother. She touched her small horn, to the stump where her mother’s used to be. The animals sounded off, as the new queen raised her small head. There would be no tears for the young monarch. She knew one day hunters would seek her, but they would have catch her first. The young queen reared in defiance ran off into the ancient green forest.

END

 Copyright 2013 – PLMII

Forever he goes to the river

To lay his tears to rest

Beside the running blue water

Lay the prices of a broken trust

It was so many years ago

And only the wind truly knows

The forgotten tale of two lovers

Who proclaimed their love by the river

Once beneath the moon and stars

Love left its terrible and unforgotten scar

Upon two young loving hearts

Whose once sweet world has fallen apart

So night after night he comes to cry

Talk to memories and ask why

That a love said to last forever

Became a sacrifice upon an unseen altar

Beneath the stars

Beside the river

Underneath the moon

She was young

Full of life

An ever so fair

She dreamed

She loved

She dance upon air

She the beauty fair

Belongs in his longing arms

Not in an unknown writer’s song

Fate can be so cruel

As it plays by self made rules

It came like a thief in the night

Among the shadows far from sight

With tainted dagger it slew true love

Like a pure white sacrificial dove

She was alone under obsidian sky

As death the collector came

Forever she closed her eyes

Beneath the stars

Beside The River

Underneath the moon

How quickly death slipped away

After her soul was set free

Before the sun claimed a new day

It was then her lover

Came upon her skin so cold and pale

He knew he would never know the tale

So he gave her to the churning river

Upon a handmade raft full of flowers

Mother Nature took away the empty shell

Far away a soul stood judgment in hell

A thousand years have come and gone

Yet his soul’s lamentation is far from done

He sits alone endlessly in ghostly tears

Lost everything he considered so dear

And you the reader must wonder why

Why his soul returns endlessly to cry

Nightly beside the lonely river

His lover’s reflection haunts the water

So together he and she

Must live out endless misery

The see each other so much

Yet alas they never touch

For if he reaches to touch her face

The sweet longing reflection separates

She leaves with a trace

An the night how it grows ever late

Two worn spirits fill with endless hate

As the murder remains ever free

Their eyes to never see

Beneath the stars

Beside the river

Underneath the moon

So I lay down my pen

And remember the murder again

I saw the terror in her eyes

As I heard her futile cries

My dagger slide in

I committed my sin

Beneath the stars

Beside the river

Underneath the moon

You say I am a murderer

My words untrue

She was alive till you read

You are the true murderer

No one killed her but you

Beneath the stars

Beside the river

Underneath the moon

I wrote these words you’ve read

Now too my words done

I am dead

END

Copyright 2013 – PLMII

In the land of dreams, monsters stomp and creatures creep,

As they wait for young children to fall asleep.

When the sun is set and the moon has risen,

Monsters escape from the Sandman’s prison.

Through a cracked closet door or from under the bed,

They come with claws and sharp teeth,

Bringing dread to children’s heads.

Every night they escaped to have wicked fun,

All that is except for just one.

They call him Moroi the littlest nightmare,

It was his job to just sweep,

Never to stomp or to creep.

He longed to scare just one, Girl or a boy,

This was the wish of little Moroi.

As all the other monsters prepared for an evening of doom,

Moroi stood there holding his broom.

Heebie-Jeebies, the creepiest monster of all,

Gazed down at Moroi and made him feel very small.

“Why are you standing there?” Growled Heebie–Geebie with a menacing glare.

“Tonight, I wish to join the scare,” squeaked the littlest nightmare.

All the monsters began to laugh and squeal.

Could this little fellow’s request be real?

“What do you think my fellow fiends, can this twerp ruin dreams?” asked Heebie-Jeebies.

“Him, make a child scream?” laughed Jeepers

“Or ruin a dream,” howled Creepers.

“I say let him try a scare, if he is up to the dare.” Willies said with a smirk.

Heebie-Jeebies scowled at Moroi his eyes glowing bright red. “Well, you heard what they said.”

Moonlight then filled the room,

And the monsters left through a portal to deliver vast doom.

Moments later into a room they all did creep,

To find a lone child fast asleep.

“Let’s see what you got?” said Willies as he crawled from under the bed.

“Okay, stand back” Moroi chirped, and prepared to deliver dread.

He growled…He stomped…He screamed.

Yet the little boy just smiled in his sleep and quietly dreamed.

It was as if he was not even there,

The child slept undisturbed by the littlest nightmare.

The other nightmares laughed and rolled about the floor,

They could hardly take anymore.

“Let me show you how it is done!” Growled Heebie-Jeebies who longed for nightmarish fun.

Suddenly the boy began to twist and turn,

While his brow did suddenly burn.

The boy cried out in distress,

As Heebie Geebie made his dreams a mess.

Moroi could not bear to see,

The child in such misery.

Then with all his might Moroi, closed his eyes and shouted, “This is not right!”

A sudden flash then erupted,

Away went the dream that Heebie-Jeebies corrupted.

When Moroi opened up his eyes,

He was now alone to his own surprise.

“Who’s there?” said a small voice.

Moroi froze.

Should he answer, did he have a choice?

Then a silvery dust filled the air,

And the boy fell back to sleep without a care.

“I saw what you did, “said the Sandman with surprise.

Moroi felt suddenly ashamed, as tears welled in his eyes.

Then he saw a smile spread on the Sandman’s face.

“Don’t think that you are too small, or of no good use.  Did you not stop Heebee-Jeebees’ abuse? “

“Yes, but where have all the other nightmares gone?” asked Moroi.

The sandman said while rubbing his chin, “They have been sent back to prison.”

Moroi thought how angry the others would be,

Because of him they were no longer free.

“As to their fate you should not care, you are more than just a simple nightmare.”

The Sandman then said with delight, “You are a pint-sized slayer of fright.”

Moroi beamed with monstrous joy,

He had indeed helped this little boy.

He realized that in this world he now had a place,

As a fanged smile crept to his face.

So when you turn out the lights,

And monsters creep with thoughts of fright.

Never fear of the terror they shall employ,

You are under the watch of little Moroi.

END

Copyright 2013 – PLMII