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The First Chronicle of Zayashariya: Out of Night
Violette L. Reid

Xpress Yourself Publishing, March 4, 2008
ISBN-10:
0-9799757-6-X
ISBN-13: 978-0-9799757-6-9

6 x 9 inches

Trade Paperback
$16.95

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Violette L. Reid

 

 

S

ayashariya abandons her birthright and escapes the planet Night on a spaceship destined for freedom. Once she flees, she unexpectedly arrives in the town of Wilzasp where she is blamed for the sudden rising death rate.  The panic-stricken people seek to destroy her and she finds herself betwixt blood craving natives and demons chasing her through the realms. 

Violette L. Reid is a happily married mother, writer, painter, poet, and native of Atlanta, Georgia, earned her B.A. in English at Clark Atlanta University.  Writing since her preteen years, she has written over 1,200 poems (a few have been published on numerous poetry sites and in poetry anthologies), and 25 short stories.  Her first published book called Violette Ardor: A Volume of Poetry has received rave reviews.   Violette is currently working on the sequel to her fantasy novel, a supernatural novel, a life drama novel, and a screenplay.  She also publishes a monthly internet entertainment newsletter called Peach Publishing on her website that features art, literature, and miscellaneous features from various artists and writers from around the globe.  The First Chronicle of Zayashariya: Out of Night is her first novel released by XYP!
 
You can read more about Violette L. Reid at: www.VioletteReid.com
PRAISE

"Mysterious, sensual, and thrilling... this book will overwhelm your senses. A superbly written blend of fantasy and spirituality; Out of Night was completely mesmerizing."

- Regina Yvette Hall, Poetress, Arlington TX
 

"I had the distinct pleasure of seeing this manuscript before it went to the publisher and what a read it turned out to be! Violette Reid's, The First Chronicle of Zayashariya is without a doubt one of the most original novels I have read in the last seven years...The plot is very intriguing and the author's description of certain places or beings is excellent ... Reid's novel is very interesting and beautifully narrated...a great book and Violette Reid is definitely an author to look out for. Bring on the second chronicle."

Rating: 4/5
The Lucid Review

www.thelucidreview.com


"Reid's groundbreaking The First Chronicle of Zayashariya: Out of Night will be the criterion of the future;by which all cutting-edge literature is measured. Excellent! Science fiction smoothed out on the spiritual tip with a dramatic feel to it. Reid's superior orchestration of multi-genre writing in Out of Night is simply impeccable. A true hypnotic, literary elixir that cannot be consumed...because it consumes YOU! Reid's revolutionary writing style will be a benchmark for years to come."

- Marc Lacy, The Looking Heart and Rock & Fire, http://www.marclacy.com

 


 

 

 

 

1

Night, a sweltering planet void of natural light, where solitary darkness reigned as queen and melancholy whimpering was etched into the very atmosphere.  Gray skies masked the planet beneath a drab, misty blanket.  Jagged buildings littered the dry and rocky surface, protruding from the ground like encrusted spines.  Misshapen and haggard, they reached toward the foggy heavens in heaps of twisted architecture.  Between the buildings, in mammoth menacing billows, foul vapors floated up into the hot air from singed bodies as they passed through the fires of Molech.  Cackling laughs flowed from the mouths of demons as they tortured souls, bound in white-hot chains, hanging from sporadic edifices.

 “It is your turn,” a porcine face demon grunted as she grabbed the arm of a trembling young male.  The puny boy dropped to the ground, the thin cloth covering his body fell off, exposing him completely.  He plopped down hard, hoping that the demon would be thrown off by his weight but the she-demon’s muscled pimply arm did not flinch. 

“Get up!” the demon squealed as she effortlessly yanked the boy up, slamming him into the lapping tongues of the sacrificial fire.    

Appalling displays of human and animal sacrifices littered the surface of the planet like a colony of frenzied ants feasting on miscellaneous insect flesh.

The pied muddy brown, slate blue, and charcoal gray surface of the planet was divided by toothed structures, murky waters, and harsh mountains which cut the planet into two halves. 

Northern Night had a baneful atmosphere, while southern Night’s atmosphere was breathable but its land dwellers were tortured in the fierce heat of the callous sun.  

On the northernmost point of the planet, under the surface, the city of Gehenna thrived.  It was a town of caves.  The air was too poisonous to breathe above ground.  

Deep within the center of the city, a mammoth castle sat surrounded by row upon row of round cacti and aloe growing on rocks.  The castle was nothing more than a ten-story tall rectangle, ten times as long as it was wide.  Its pale walls stained with eons of splattered blood.  Two wooden cathedral doors, almost as high as the front façade of the building, broke the monotony of the featureless castle.  Five broken granite steps led to the door.  The muffled sound of weeping slipped through the cracks and penetrated the ears of Kalpvaleim.  The half man, half beast took a deep breath, attempting to relieve himself of unwanted tension, and tapped on the door three times.  A strange energy flowed from the door into his hand, implanting fear in his mind.  Peeling paint fell to the ground in dark flakes.  Kalpvaleim brushed off the door’s dandruff that clung to his knuckles and waited.  A sour frown bent his lips as his breath floated from his partially opened mouth in uneasy puffs.  Moments later, the massive doors silently swung open.  A gust of damp wind brushed his face, blowing his pink locks backward.  Uneasiness flooded him as the primordial smell of Queen Lilith’s castle pervaded his nose.

“Are you Kalpvaleim, the daemon, son of Ashtoreth?” a small voice whispered.  Kalpvaleim did not see anyone.  “Are you Kalpvaleim?” the voice asked again.  Kalpvaleim looked down.  Standing a little more than knee high to him was a small impish creature.

“It is I,” Kalpvaleim responded.

“Welcome,” the creature said, stepping to the side and bowing.  “Please come in quietly.  The princess is expecting you; however, the master of this castle does not know of your presence.  If the queen finds you here, there will be grave consequences.” 

“I understand,” said Kalpvaleim, stepping into the atrium of the castle, his navy blue skin blending into the darkness appearing to dissolve into nothingness.  Muffled screams floated through the air, so faint that the average ear could not detect them, but Kalpvaleim felt their vibration.  A chill snaked through his bones.

“Need a light, Sir?” the small, impish creature asked.  It stood about three feet tall, covered in smooth, gray scales.  Its face was snakelike in appearance with slit eyes and two nicks in the flesh of its face for a nose.  It wore a thin, silk-like loincloth and a gold ring on its right thumb, nothing more.

“Yes, I would like that,” Kalpvaleim said. 

Being inside Queen Lilith’s castle drove Kalpvaleim near insanity, but he refused to reveal to the imp how petrified he was.  Against his will, Kalpvaleim perspired feverishly and wiped his forehead with his sweaty palms.  He was always nervous when he set foot in the castle.  Nervous was an understatement.  The feeling that flowed through him was near panic.  But he refused to show any fear.  His pride did not approve of fear; therefore, he placed mind over matter and buried his paranoia deep within himself like a dirty secret kept for eternity.  Kalpvaleim’s will was phenomenal his demeanor changing almost immediately.

The imp vanished faster than a newborn flame on a stricken match.  It reappeared within seconds holding a torch.  It was as if it dematerialized and materialized right before Kalpvaleim’s eyes. 

“Would you like to hold it, Sir?” the imp asked with a childlike voice, small and squeaky.

“Thank you,” said Kalpvaleim, taking the torch from the imp.  “I will go no further into the castle.  I am uneasy in this place.  This is base ground I stand on.”  Cool breezes that materialized out of nothingness whisked past him.  His eyes darted to and fro.  It seemed as if spirits stirred within the room.  “Bring Zayashariya out to me.”

“Yes, Sir,” said the imp, disappearing again. 

 “Please hurry,” Kalpvaleim whispered into the emptiness.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.  He walked over to the nearest wall and leaned against it, placing one hoof on the wall and standing on the other.  Scratching his head, he let out an edgy sigh and waited.  Why am I here?  Moments later, he heard footsteps and hesitantly stood up straight, looking towards the inner door.

 

 

   

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