By Dawn Napier
Darkish Ranger is the 1st e-book within the Many Kingdoms trilogy, a well-known fairytale global of monsters and wizards, evil and magic. Garrett is a Ranger of the sunshine, a sworn dad or mum of the wildlife and its population. His accountability is to root out evil and ruin it prior to it might probably damage the land he cherishes, yet he unearths it tough to spot that evil in himself. His center is damaged via the brutal homicide of his loved, and his thirst for revenge leaves him at risk of the manipulation of the blood-wizard, Scythe. Fellow rangers Wren and Nolan are made up our minds to reclaim their friend's soul and convey him again to the sunshine. they're aided by means of a wandering dwarf and a wild fairy who longs for humanity. yet because the partners realize, even magic can't keep an individual who doesn't are looking to be stored.
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Extra resources for Dark Ranger (The Many Kingdoms, Book 1)
The male body was of little aesthetic interest to him, and the female was so mutable, so much a function of its own motion, or that of light across it, that all static representation seemed to him doomed from the outset. But he wanted to represent a protean form now, however impossible; wanted to find a way to fix what he’d seen at the door of his hotel room, when Pie’oh’pah’s many faces had been shuffled in front of him like cards in an illusionist’s deck. If he could fix that sight, or even begin to do so, he might yet find a way of controlling the thing that had come to haunt him.
Martin-in-the-Fields, he found himself offering up a little prayer, its sentiments not so very different from those of the carols this congregation would presently be singing. He prayed that hope was somewhere out there in the city tonight, and that it might come into his heart and scour him of his doubts and confusions, a light that would not only burn in him but would spread throughout the Dominions and illuminate the Imajica from one end to the other. But if such a divinity was near, he prayed that the songs had it wrong, because sweet as tales of Nativity were, time was short, and if hope was only a babe tonight then by the time it had reached redeeming age the worlds it had come to save would be dead.
That hallucinatory chaos had been distressing, but the solid thing it had concealed appalled him more. Whatever sexual imaginings he’d shaped in the darkness-Judith’s face, Judith’s breasts, belly, sex-all of them had been an illusion. The creature he’d coupled with, almost shot his load into, didn’t even share her sex. He was neither a hypocrite nor a puritan. He loved sex too much to condemn any expression of lust, and though he’d discouraged the homosexual courtships he’d attracted, it was out of indifference, not revulsion.