The Greener Forest by Vonnie Winslow Crist

My friends over at Cold Moon Press are getting ready to release their next book, The Greener Forest by Vonnie Winslow Crist. It is a collection of short stories, and Vonnie also did all the illustrations. You’re going to love it!  Here is a bit about it:

In The Greener Forest anything is possible. Silver maples sing in angel-song. Spriggans skulk about cypress knees and wreak havoc at an amusement park. The Applehead Lady’s true identity is revealed by moonlight filtering through the branches of an ancient tree. A scarecrow finds true love in an ash grove. And a wayward beech tree root sends a woman into the arms of a kindhearted giant.

These stories and more lead the reader into the depths of The Greener Forest, where Faerie and the everyday world collide. There is dark and light, evil and good, and uncertain dusky gray lurking between the pages of this book. Discover that all is not what it seems at first glance and wondrous things still happen in The Greener Forest.

They have a special pre-order offer. If you purchase it at the discounted price of $14.99 plus $3.50 shipping before March 5, 2011, you get an autographed copy of the book before it is available in the store! As a special gift for pre-ordering, you will also receive another of the author’s books, Essential Fables. Books will be shipped by March 15, 2011.

Here is a snipet from one of the stories, “Blood of the Swan”:

His grumbling stomach refocused his thoughts on the swan. It had been flying between the tree branches, sailing low, preparing to land when Jorund loosed his arrow. The cry the creature had made when wounded had been like nothing he’d heard before. It had sounded almost like a frightened child. He shivered. Jorund rarely pitied his prey, but the swan’s cry had chilled the marrow of his bones.

He stopped walking. Though the falling snow muffled noise, he thought he heard someone calling. He veered from the path and pushed his way through a thicket of brambles. The voice grew louder as he neared a rocky outcrop. The swan would have to wait. Anyone lost in such weather would freeze to death. And freezing wasn’t a pleasant way to die.

Jorund could clearly hear a voice now. It sounded like a woman or maybe a child. At the base of a large boulder about fifteen strides in front of him, someone dressed in a blood-stained white cloak laid sprawled in the snow.

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