
Escape Into a World Like No Other
Illustrated Fantasy Novels By Kindrie Grove

Book Three


A Light in the Dark
“A spell!” panted Dalemar. “A spell has been activated. Everyone take cover!”
Torrin opened his eyes and stared with horror as Rowan stood frozen, a sphere beginning to form around her, glowing a lurid orange.

Book Description
Torn away from Torrin and her companions, Rowan must make her way through a strange and hostile land with unlikely allies.
As the dark intentions of The Brotherhood and the power-hungry Emperor Rothius grow, Torrin and Lanfear must choose between their search for Rowan and standing against the growing threat to Tabor and Pellar.
Swept into the etherial In Between, Rowan and Torrin, with the help of their companions, must learn to control their emerging Stone Guardian abilities, while evading the mortal enemies hunting them.
Amidst deadly treachery and the pull of fateful, ancient memory, can they find their way back to each other?
A Light in the Dark is the third installment in The Stone Guardians Series, filled with suspense and adventure, magic and romance set against sweeping landscapes that will satisfy fans of epic high fantasy.
A reading event you will cherish.
With 30 plus beautiful illustrations, reading this book is an event you will cherish.

Writing Sample for Book Three
Oblivion
The flash left Rowan standing dazed. Then a skin-crawling sensation began to spread through her chest and she felt something coiling around her torso. Her eyes widened and she gasped in a horrified breath as it began to burn and pulse sickeningly.
“Torrin!” Rowan cried out in panic.
She was being pulled inside out. The room dimmed.
As if from a great distance she watched Torrin lunge toward her, dimly felt him grasp her arm, struggling to pull her free. But she couldn’t move.
Searing pain lanced through her, ripping a scream from her throat. The vault shimmered, then everything was gone.
She couldn’t speak, there was no sense of up or down. The echo of the scream she heard was her own, but she had no mouth, no voice to make it.
Chanting became audible, growing in volume. Even without physical sensation, Rowan recoiled in revulsion as she realized whose voice it was. Feeling returned to her body – a pulsing, pulling that tugged at her. It intensified and a room began to take shape.
It was not the Brotherhood’s vault in Tyrn.
Bookcases and tables resolved around her, filled with leatherbound tomes and scrolls. Strange contraptions and instruments covered the tables and desks. The air she pulled into her lungs was warm and dry, laden heavily with incense.
A short figure stood before her, his arms raised, round face glazed with sweat and his eyes feverish. The Magus’s voice rose in pitch as unintelligible words tumbled from his mouth along with his spittle.
Ilyason.
The disembodiment subsided and she could feel her limbs once more. She registered the weight of her sword, still clenched in her hand, and it gave her feeble hope.
It was enough. It had to be.
Amid her disorientation, Rowan gripped the hilt, clenching her teeth and striving to gather all her strength to attack.
But then everything shifted, she was shoved sideways and her head spun, although it did not seem as though she had moved at all. White light flashed around her and Rowan was pulled again. She gasped as the horrific sensation of being folded inside out rolled through her once more.
She was torn away from the room, away from Ilyason and his chanting.
The last thing she heard was the Magus’s frustrated screech.
Then oblivion took her.

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