IN THE HOME OF THE GODS by Peter M. Emmerson

An excerpt from Book 3 of The Tirnano “The Purple Queen”


What’s the celebration for? Lord Bes said it was going to be a right ding dong, piss up.”

The fifteen foot tall giant chuckled, “You have an amusing turn of phrase sweet one,” she purred. Her face turned serious for a moment and she looked down at the pretty Scot, “‘Tis not a appealing tale, are you in no doubt you wish to hear it?”

“Bring it on babe, if it gets too much I can always cry off.”

“So be it Jeanne, before I begin; I ask for your forgiveness.” she sat on a low stool beside the standing human, her eyes level with Jeanne’s, a tear rolled down her muzzle.

“Whatever it is you have to tell me, I’m sure you had good reason at the time.” Jeanne threw her arms about the massive head and kissed the tear away. “I love you Sekhi.”


The lioness began to sing, her voice a rich and beautiful contralto;

“Mine is a heart of carnelian, crimson as murder on a holy day.

Mine is a heart of corneal, the gnarled roots of a dogwood and the bursting of flowers.

I am the broken wax seal on my lover’s letters.

I am the phoenix, the fiery sun, consuming and resuming myself.

I will what I will.

Mine is a heart of carnelian, blood red as the crest of a phoenix.” Continue reading

PWENE THE DWARF By Pete Emmerson

Goblin King Out of Print“He’s a try-er, and a liar,” I whispered in my brother’s ear. Scampering down the steps from beside the throne, I pulled a cartwheel in front of the petitioner. Spinning around and sticking out my long tongue, I wriggled it in the man’s face.
“What proof have you of this indiscretion?” The king asked.
“It was the time of the full moon my liege,” replied the man giving a deep bow, Randolph of the Marshes, then attempted to peer around me. “I was ensuring the safety of my hens, for they were creating a fine cackle. I feared that perhaps a fox were amongst them. But it was not to be, I came across Roger of the Fields there, dressed as a wolf, devouring one after the other of them whole and un-plucked. When I shook my blunderbuss at him, and queried his behaviour, he leapt a high surrounding fence, and ran on four limbs for the safety of the woods.

Continue reading