Showing results by narrator "Michael Hastings" in All Categories

My name is Logan Greenwood, and I’d rather be anywhere else. When I decided to come home to help my mom out of a rough spot, I had no idea how bad it would be. But when a freak storm kicks up and I literally get sucked into another world, family drama is the least of my worries. I couldn’t get home if I wanted to. And in this world–full of drop-dead gorgeous elves, nymphs, and dryads–the last thing on my mind is going home.

Drakkus, Lord of Chaos, has failed. His minions have fled the Ring Wood with their tails between their legs. Those that still have tails or legs to carry them, anyway. And it's all thanks to me, Logan Greenwood. Oh, pardon me. In this world, they call me 'Loghann Grenwyld' and apparently I'm the only living heir to the Emperor of the Five Realms.

After our bittersweet victory against Drakkus, Lord of Chaos, we wanted nothing but to leave the desert realm and its cursed labyrinth behind us. Stepping through a magic portal into the Lucidian mountain range seemed like the perfect solution. At first, the cool, swirling mountain mists are a welcome change from the relentless heat of the silent sands. Once we make our way to the mountain temple, we will collect the priestesses and their soldiers and make our way to the high plains to stake my claim as Emperor of the Five Realms. We're so close I can taste it.

It's hotter than Hell in the desert of the Silent Sands, and I don't just mean the climate. With djinn, fire demons, and a band of nocturnal assassins on my tail, there's no rest for the weary or the wicked. Legend says there is an artifact of unfathomable power hidden within the labyrinth in the heart of this desert, and I'll stop at nothing to claim it for myself. But I'm not the only one who knows about it. Drakkus, Lord of Chaos, has his eye on the prize, too.

On Midsummer's Eve, Emperor Illdrian, suspected madman and ruler of the Five Realms, will pass the scepter of power to a new heir. It should be me, Loghann Grenwyld, lost prince of the empire. I have fought tooth and nail to arrive in the High Plains before Drakkus, Lord of Chaos, usurps my rightful place as emperor. I have arrived with the magical priestesses of the realms and their armies at my back. If Drakkus thinks I’m giving up my right to the scepter without a fight, he’s got another thing coming.

At age 25, Michael Hastings arrived in Baghdad to cover the war in Iraq for Newsweek. He had at his disposal a little Hemingway romanticism and all the apparatus of a 21st-century reporter: cell phones, high-speed Internet access, digital video cameras, fixers, drivers, guards, and translators.