AUDIOBOOK NOW AVAILABLE
The wonderfully talented David Lane Pusey brings destiny's boot to life with his nuanced and characterful narration.
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Art by Nataly Zhuk
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DESTINY'S BOOT
When Live, laugh, larceny becomes Death, doom, destiny.
Embarking on a salvage mission into the heart of the most treacherous mountain range in the Barsian Empire, the pirates aboard the sky ship Warrior know things are going to get wild.
However, no-one suspects this contract is anything other than lucrative.
But, with a perfectly placed punt, Destiny’s Boot launches the Warrior like a particularly oblivious seagull into the path of a whirling propeller.
A cascade of horror awaits them. Undead wyverns, fanatical mages, and an ancient entity so powerful it has been locked away for centuries.
In order to survive, the Warrior’s crew will have to multitask.
Can they lick Risk in the eyeball while stealing Danger’s wristwatch and treating Chaos to a makeover?
BIO
FJ began her life in Hampshire but has lived on a farm with her family in the wild west of Wales for over twenty years.
Having merrily wasted her history degree from the moment she received it, FJ decided to keep on doing so by writing about magical flying ships, sharks with jet packs, weaponised gazpacho, and swashbuckling sky pirates with incredibly good hair.
She blames her time raising animals and children for combining what was an already lively sense of the ridiculous with the desire to live in a fantasy world; and the result is The Barsian Job, a six-book series for anyone who ever wanted to break the fourth wall and demand to speak to the manager.
FJ guarantees that her books are more exciting than chasing sheep around a field, funnier than watching a beloved child faceplant in the mud and warmer than losing your welly in the muck heap. Trust her, she’s an expert.
COMING SOON - MEMORY'S CLAWS
"We serve the Autarch.”
Dust carpeted the Faithful as thickly as the Faithful carpeted the floor at the end of the cavernous chamber. Their woven words of worship were the only sounds that broke the endless years of silence. They were dead, yet death could not claim them while He commanded their obeisance. Their leathered tongues rasped the ceaseless chant while their withered eyes stared unblinking towards His infinite magnificence.
“We serve the Autarch.”
His bright darkness burned far above the Faithful as He watched and waited. He who was suspended in the hollow between always and never, the haze between reality and possibility, caged in the absence of the end.
He would be free. His will would be done.
